#the range of ones too that are content because they moved passed the trauma of the event or glad to have people who dont think of them as a

[captain-nohbo]

I want to shout out the scienst characters that people hc as disabled whether physically or as a form of neurodivergence. especially when it's by disabled people themselves

[fanficfish]

hetalia parenting hcs and theories

i got on a Sweden kick lately, alright-

Austria wasn't *too* great at parenting (*gestures at Italy*) when he was younger, but to be fair: the man obtained a child, was essentially being bossed around by his younger brother, and also the kid was Italy. His punishments were on the nicer end of the spectrum considering the time period, though-as far as we're aware, his punishments were more towards "stop Italy from eating a fifth serving of pasta" then anything physical (wait is that why Italy's so into pasta now, is it trauma? ...let's not unpack that right now-). But if it's related to art- that he can appreciate, that's the main trait that sticks around with Kugelmugel. Austria would totally get mad at his charges/kids for messing up his own art, but he won't actively stop them from expressing themselves, as an artist that would be hypocritical. He'll deny he cares about his wards when asked, though. Hungary thinks it's cute. And yes, he totally gets Italy to come over to hang out with Kugel because "you're artists, right? Go on, I'll be over in the corner playing Mozart."

China - nah he's just a normal Asian parent. Drives everyone up the wall, means well, stuffs everyone full until they're bursting, then beats them over the head with a frying pan until they finish their chores. Love language? Food. So. Much. Food. Even Japan can't always escape the Family Dinner, and to his great dismay China acts like he's going to starve (he's not, he swears-) and.

America is that dad that has free-range kids, because well. America. Also, he has other things besides parenting 50 states and all of his territories and micronations and Native nations, because do you know how many personifications that is? A lot. He's 400, not 1000, between him and Canada they're kinda just accepted they need to delegate a lot and just never plan on a family dinner-that's why America throws a big party on all major holidays and Canada sometimes joins in ("the states and provinces all hang out anyways"). Both America and Canada but mostly America's inboxes are constantly full, and they have one phone for work and the other nation personifications and whatnot and one for "family matters". It's fine, most of them govern themselves anyways- wait, what do you mean Florida is fighting an aligator on the NASA launchpad-?!

Prussia actually didn't do half bad, but Germany was already half-grown, so that helped. He passed the parenting test with flying colors though.

Denmark (and Norway)....Iceland took one look and wisely decided not to move in with them like other nations were doing with their caretakers and stayed on his island. Away. Far away from Vikings and all the ridiculous things going on with wars and what-gives. He, Greenland, the Farce Islands, Aland- they all were quite content to just ignore the chaos their big brothers were stirring up and to be fair, maybe having the immortal 13-year-olds raising 6-year-olds wasn't the best idea.....Denmark did try, though, when he wasn't being beat up by Sweden or fighting the neighbors. Making trips to Iceland (the country) (with Norway in tow, of course) and bringing gifts from the mainland, and such. Iceland in turn visited, but very rarely- he did his best to jsut skip whatever nightmare Denmark cooked up during the Kalmer Union (wise choice all things considered) and visited only when necessary, no wonder Finland and Sweden didn't really meet him until the 1700s and it took to the 1950s before Iceland deemed his brothers were mostly sane again. But all things considered he got a decent end of the straw, and he got his quiet life, though there's a reason Norway mother hens him (bro feels bad he didn't do much with the kid for the first 800 years after the initial "yo you're mine now, oh wait now we're both Denmark's" thing).. Iceland takes it in stride even if he found out he wasw a bit more touch-starved then he realized. The other Nordics definitrely mother hen him now, and Estonia tries to act like it too but really he ends up like that weird slightly-older cousin who keeps turning up for some weird reason. (Y'all, Estonia and Iceland are physically the same age I can't-)

Sweden is the ultimate dad. Welll, the ultimate dad that spoils his kids but still a dad. Actually pays some degree of attention to the kids he ends up with, even if he isn't technically supposed to acknowledge Ladonia as a country but "c'mon, there' sa personification, and also he's MY kid. I made this. Technically. Don't you DARE touch his laptop". Also Sweden definitely is the one fixing the laptop when something goes wrong, He kind of wishes Ladonia and Sealand meeting didn't happen by Sealand getting super bored and making a micronations club but he supposes at least it worked out. Finland pretends he's staying out of it, but he's kind of hyped there are kids and a dog around. Funnily enough, Selanad only found out later that Iceland is his uncle....after trying to declare he was his "sempai". Iceland was not amused, because dammit he's 1000, you little- Sweden, get your children under control!

England and France.....well, at least France tried to keep America from drinking too much beer once but neither did particularly outstanding jobs. But hey, Canada and America are alive and mostly in one piece! So that's a win, right? Right? Australia, New Zealand, back us up here- PUT DOWN THAT KANGAROO, YOUNG MEN- (England also had a bad habit of delegating but that's what happened when your wards span the whole world and you can't really bring them all home because they're territories and colonies. England the personification was secretly glad he didn't' have to deal with whatever personification nightmare was going on in America after a while). (But they do care enough that England wil still offer calming tea after a good soclsing and lug Sealand home after he sneaks into another world meeting because "you aren't going home at this time of night that's rodiculous- what no ofc i don't care but don't hitchhike back home that's dangeorus!" And France will invite his lot pvwe for dinner and throw "extra things i had lyong around" at them during Paris Fashion Week. They care but in a strange, "we're flipping old ans don't always get ir" way.

And Spain just tried his dammed hardest to keep Romano from doing stupid stuff. Not that it worked, of course, but E for Effort!

I can't think of any more right now. I'll add more when i think of it. Obviously out of everyone, Greece and maybe Egypt probably had the best upbringing. With somewhat-normal parental figures that weren't preteens and teens running around trying to figure out how to care for five-year-olds

[animepopheart]

Review: Violet Evergarden the Movie

The old adage is that “people never change,” but that’s hardly true at all, is it? Most people, in fact, are constantly in change as they react to the joys and hurt, the happiness and pain, and the push and pull of life, and evolve as they travel through these experiences. But the ones who resist, who insist on standing still, can only watch as life passes them by.

That theme is ever present in Violet Evergarden, both the anime series and the films (a “side story” movie was previously released), as they trace the development of the titular young woman from a “tool of war” to her post-military life in a steampunk version of a country much like Belgium following a conflict much like WWI, and as she matures and comes to understand the nature of love by working as an auto-memory doll, a postal worker who helps translate customers’ intentions into letters typed with pitch-perfect wording. But while the focus had previously been on Violet’s growth, Violet Evergarden the Movie begins by showing how others around her are now moving forward while she stands still, including—and surprisingly—Dietfried Bougainvillea, the formerly cruel brother of Gilbert, Violet’s former commanding officer whose kindness and love inspired impassioned devotion in her, even after it’s presumed he died a violent death.

Violet, however, holds out hope that Gilbert has somehow survived. Violet Evergarden the Movie is a vast canvas, large enough to explore the final outcome of Violet’s search for Gilbert and showing how she comes to terms with what happened and who she has become. While the film could accurately be called an extended episode, it’s perhaps better described as a conclusion (for almost immediately, the film suggestions that this story will conclude Violet’s tale) where the stakes are higher and the plot structure more complicated. And although the anime has prepared viewers for deeply affecting content, that, too, is all the stronger in this final film: Violet will settle her feelings for the missing and presumed dead Gilbert one way or another, and we feel the heaviness of that almost as much as she does.

But a conclusion won’t come quickly nor easily. The twist and turns of this journey start with the unconventional structure of the film, which begins several generations later, with Violet most likely long dead and gone, as a young woman takes a latter-day interest in auto memory dolls. The action then turns back toward the roughly 1920s setting of Violet Evergarden and the story of a sick boy for whom Violet will ghostwrite as she, and to a lesser extent, Dietfried, deal with their own ghost.

Standing on the precipice of breakthrough for most of the two-hour and twenty minute runtime, and keeping that heightened sense of emotion throughout, the movie is at times exhausting. It is the culmination of a beloved heroine’s journey and a proud display both of how much she’s grown to become a person capable of giving and receiving love, and of the trauma she still carries from the war and particularly the violent loss of Gilbert. Voice actress Yui Ishikawa’s range is on full display as she effortlessly moves from Violet’s normal monotone voice to sobbing and screaming—she’s a treasure, helping to keep the film centered in authenticity when it could become pretentious and, with a screenplay that’s sometimes gorgeously crafted and at other times written without subtlety, unwieldy. But carried by her performance, unexpected character development and reveals, and breathtaking animation, Violet Evergarden the Movie becomes the crown of what was already royalty in anime, a modern classic.

As this story unfolds on the screen, it’s also worth considering the tale of the studio that produced it. Kyoto Animation had to postpone the film’s opening twice, once because of COVID-19, but before that due to tragedy, the arson that led to the deaths of 36 KyoAni employees. As Violet makes her way toward resolution on screen, it feels much like the studio’s journey as well, through violence and trauma into grief and—at least as can be expressed through the completion of this film—resolution. Kyoto Animation’s heroine, like the staff of the studio itself, will stand strong—after all, she and they have already been through hell and back.

Which evokes the question: Can you go through hell and actually make it “back”? Can you see the worst in humanity and still, as Violet efforts to do, learn what “I love you” means? The answer for a series and movie that is ultimately encouraging (though it always pierces your soul first) may be a foregone conclusion, but the answer isn’t any less meaningful—for Violet, for Kyoto Animation, and for us all.

Rating: **** (4/5)

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #14

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

[AO3]

~POV Mori~

I woke up when it was still dark out. Only the faintest light came in my windows.

I hadn't done anything yesterday. Just laid down and rested for the first time in a long time. The doctor's were convinced I needed one more day of rest, but I knew I was already better. When was the last time I had just let my body rest like that when I wasn't sick? I couldn't remember. This peace was nice.

The quiet of sunrise was only broken by the faint sound of bird calls in the distance. I sat up and closed my eyes. I focused everything on my other senses. I couldn't hear the ocean easily from here. I had wanted to use the sounds of the waves to meditate, but I would just have to do without.

It had been a few days since I last checked in with myself and really focused inward. I could still feel them, all of the Black Rukh that had merged with me back in Balbadd. They were much calmer than before. And they felt like a part of me now, like I might be incomplete if they were suddenly gone. I knew each one from the dreams too. Their lives were mine and each also now knew my life as their own.

Going through all of their lives on the ship would have been painful even without being sick. These were angry souls and they did not welcome the inner peace I was offering easily, but a person's Rukh doesn't lie. After reading this world's truth through my memories they all calmed.

All of us lived lives of loss and poverty and trauma. That must have been another part of why we were able to fully merge in such a short time.

As Black Rukh they couldn't return to the Great Flow where the rest of their loved ones were, but they at least had each other within me.

It was a very strange feeling.

And along with their lives and Rukh, their magoi was also now mine. What had felt like a small pool now felt like a large lake. I had a lot more magoi at my disposal now that they were fully integrated with me.

The Great Bell range and I grounded myself in the present.

Only then did it occur to me that I was probably sick, and suffering from the influx of Rukh separately at the same time. It had been both all along. Whatever illness I had was worsened by my situation with the Rukh. I hadn't lost my magoi manipulation during it, but it was probably learning it ahead of time that had saved me. There's no way such a large amount of Rukh entering me wouldn't have made my body unstable.

Would the doctors understand if I explained it to them? I should ask Sinbad before saying something unnecessary.

The dim light from my windows called to me. I got out of my bed, put on my glasses, and sat on the sill of one them at the encouragement of the waves.

Like this, I could look down and see the Palace court yard. On the other side of the court yard were the Silver Scorpio (martial arts training), and Black Libra (libraries & schools) Towers, behind them to the left was the Red Cancer Tower (military) and fully to the left was the Purple Leo Tower where Sinbad lived. Since I was on a high floor I could easily see all of the towers of the Palace from my windows -all except the White Capricorn Tower where Ja'far does most of his work since that building was on the other side of this one.

It was so strange. Looking at all this made it real that I was really here. How many times had I reread or rewatched scenes wondering what it would feel like to be here?

I rested my head on the window frame as I watched the growing light from the sunrise.

The guards changed.

The sun was fully risen. Ja'far would be waking up Sinbad soon if he hadn't already.

Two people walked out of the Purple Leo Tower -a guard and a woman. She wasn't wearing a uniform. In fact she was wearing less than the citizens I saw the other day.

"Oh, right."

Sinbad has a call girl see to him after Ja'far wakes him up.

I had the 3rd fan book for the anime which contains a day-in-the-life for a bunch of the main characters. It was only in Japanese, but I had learned enough (and could look up what I didn't know) to at least read his schedule.

The direct translation was for a "temporary woman" which from what I've found is the Japanese term for a fem sex worker. I've seen some translations for Magi's extra material refer to them as "call girls" so that was the term I chose to use.

The franchise used the word "harem" in a bunch of places, but purposely didn't use it here. That combined with an omake of Sinbad having a nightmare about being married and having a harem made it clear that Sinbad did not have a harem; he had the whole red-light district of his country to choose from.

Hold on... That book wasn't supposed to reach my house until after I had Isekaied so how did I know it's contents? There were barely any scans or photos of pages online-

*Knock knock*

My thoughts

were cut off when breakfast arrived -with more medicine of course.

---

~POV Sinbad~

Nearly a week had passed since King Sinbad had arrived home. There was a lot to catch up on. As much as he wanted to finally relax after everything that happened in Balbadd he didn't really have the time for it. Even after catching up he would still have to prepare for his trip to the Kou Empire. And Ja'far wasn't letting him forget either responsibility.

None of this stopped him from having his slow mornings. He at least gave himself that little slice of heaven.

This was business as usual -at least it was supposed to be- but Sinbad couldn't shake a growing feeling that he couldn't name. It was making him unsettled. The waves didn't give him any answers and drinking hadn't made it go away. It felt similar to missing important.

He wasn't missing any paperwork. There had been an issue with one of their supply ships going missing, and another being delayed, but he had already decided how to proceed. He was definitely interested in the progress the Black Libra Tower was making with testing Mori's theories, but the experiments would take time and they had already scheduled a meeting for an update. The new guests were still settling in. Alibaba was a mess and Aladdin was only marginally better the last time he had visited, but Morgiana was fine and already training with Masrur regularly. According to the doctors reports, Mori would be better in another day or so, and the reports he got from the maids said she was resting every day after giving that partial scroll.

Maybe this was impatience. Aside from his paperwork, everything interesting was either done or waiting for the next step.

Sinbad often walked his country in the evening, but there was no reason he couldn't check on things now. He didn't have time to go for a walk at that moment, but he could spare the magoi needed to use Zepar and fly around the country using the bird he had possessed with the Djinn's power. This wouldn't be the first time he'd done this while working on paperwork.

The bird was sitting on a railing in the city center when Sinbad took over. From this spot he could make some quick rounds in the city and then maybe make a stop in the Black Libra Tower to get a sneak peak at what they had found out so far.

The same old gossip filled most of the streets. Some price complaints, who just had a child, how work was going...

"You're serious? A prophet?”

"My husband saw the scrolls she made from her visions with his own two eyes."

Now that was new gossip.

Sinbad had the bird land near by the two women.

"Oh? What was in them?"

"He said it was like reading secrets of the world."

"Really???"

"Mhmm." She nodded. "Not everyone believes it though so they are all working to test her writing."

"Didn't you just say she was brought in by our King? Do they really think he'd be fooled by some false prophet?"

"I said the same thing! And you know what my husband said? He said that they need to find proof even if they believe the Prophet because otherwise we won't be able to prove it to our allied countries."

"I guess that makes sense..."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh! I think I might know what she looks like!”

"What? How? You only learned about her just now."

"When King Sinbad came home, there was a girl on some magical flying cloth, remember? That has to have been the Prophet!"

"I think you're right!"

To two moved on to some other gossip and King had the bird fly towards the Palace. Listening to talk about his Beautiful Prophet reminded him of his mission to peek at what was happening in the Black Libra Tower. Being able to bypass the stairs and the gates made the journey much faster.

The Sun was already in the western side of the sky. Shadows were cast onto the court yard from the Black Libra Tower. The stone of the Green Sagittarius Tower was nearly blinding white from the direct light. Color flashed in the corner of his eye as the bird flew past the upper levels of the guest tower. Before his thoughts had fully registered the familiar shade of nearly black indigo, Sinbad was guiding the bird to investigate. He landed on the railing of one of the windows and looked at the young woman resting against that same window's frame.

Mori looked just as surprised to see a bird land right in front of her as he was to be there. Sinbad had purposely been avoiding using Zepar to spy on Mori since she somehow knew that he had eavesdropped on her before. It had been days since he last saw her, so when she was suddenly an option-

"Heh hehe"

Mori's chuckle and smile took his full attention. He didn't know what had made her laugh, but he hoped she'd do it again.

"Sir, are you aware you are a bird?” After the words passed her lips she was struck by a giggle fit.

Sinbad had no idea what she was thinking or why she had said that to a bird, but he was hearing her voice for the first time in nearly a week so he'd worry about figuring it out later.

When Mori finished laughing at her own joke she leaned her head to the side and watched him. Her hair shifted and another lock spilled over her shoulder. The sight brought attention to the low neckline of the dress she was wearing. If Sinbad was there in person he would have brushed her hair out of the way just to have an excuse to touch her.

"Did you miss me that much?" Her voice was soft and a bit playful. "You didn't have to use Zepar to visit me."

Mori knew it was him! Sinbad jolted and his head hit the back of his chair in his office. How could she tell? Only magicians could see magoi and Rukh to see the spell active on the bird.

"Sin, is something wrong?-” Ja'far had just entered the room to give his afternoon report.

King Sinbad raised a hand for him to be quiet and tapped Zepar's ring to explain the situation. He didn't want to talk and miss something Mori said or did.

The General's expression turned serious and nodded as he went quiet.

When Mori didn't get a response from the bird she added, "Are you surprised that I knew it was you?" Her smile was warm as the sun. "I have read your Fate many times, so I will always recognize you, my King."

Normally, the idea that someone could see through Zepar's magic would concern him, but this didn't. It strengthened his belief that Fate had guided Mori to him.

And the affectionate way she said "my King" at the end made him smile. The waves had moved like this a few times like the last time he had seen her in person, and when he learned she could also feel the waves. The Great Flow of the Rukh was guiding them to the Fate he could see, the one where she lived the rest of her life by his side.

Ja'far sighed. "Just let me know when I can give you my report."

Mori whipped her head towards the door to her room. "They're here early."

There were the sounds of people walking in the hallway, but no voices to denounce who, or their destination. All the same, Mori got up and walked to the door. She opened it before the doctors had a chance to knock.

"How did you...?" One of the doctors asked.

"I recognized the sound of your footsteps," was her answer.

"I see.... And how are you feeling today?"

Mori walked into her room, and spared a glance at the bird still watching her from the window. "I feel fine. Just like yesterday." She turned back towards the door and sat on the edge of her bed. "So can I finally leave this room?"

The doctors were understanding but they still were going to do a full check up first.

Even without the waves it was obvious that Mori was going to be marked as full health. Sinbad would prefer to go see her immediately and give her a tour of the Palace personally, but he was still a King with responsibilities. "Ja'far, Mori has just been declared healthy. What do you think of everyone having dinner together to get everyone better aquatinted?"

"I didn't hear anything about-” Ja'far started and then cut himself when he realized. "Were you just using Zepar to spy on her??"

"Of course not." Sinbad said with all of the confidence of the King he was. "I flew directly to her and she recognized me instantly. I wasn't spying at all."

"She recognized you??" Of course he'd be shocked.

King Sinbad laughed. "She did. Though she was surprised to see me."

"I bet she was surprised to suddenly see a bird in her room. What made you think to use Zepar instead of visiting her in person? You're already getting regular reports on her condition." Ja'far always acted as a buzz kill.

It didn't stop Sinbad from laughing at the situation before finally asking for that report he postponed earlier -conveniently avoiding answering Ja'far's question.

The magician in Mori's room was talking. "Would you be interested in visiting the Black Libra Tower with us? We can show you how the experiments are going. And if possible, would you be willing to answer some questions?"

That was an understandable request, but it could wear her out.

The Prophet was facing away from the windows so Sinbad couldn't see her expression. "I'd really like that actually." But he could hear the excitement growing in her voice.

"Let me get changed real quick." Mori disappeared behind her folding wall and emerged in the outfit he met her in.

Sinbad did not drop control of the bird, but he also didn't follow Mori out of her room. Instead he waited in the window sill until he saw her enter the courtyard and then had the bird fly to the Black Libra Tower.

---

As soon as he finished whatever last minute things Ja'far was about to add to his pile, Sinbad would go to the Black Libra Tower and surprise his Beautiful Prophet in person.

~POV Mori~

In the manga and in the anime the only areas shown of the Black Libra Tower were Yamuraiha's office/lab and one of the libraries. I was more than curious about the rest of the facilities.

The first room seemed to be a reception area and had a map of the tower. I only got to glance at the separations between the libraries, offices and class rooms before a tall and lanky magician walked up to us.

"Is this her??” Her short ponytail bounced as she looked between me and my guides.

Isa, the magician who had been taking care of me the past few days, introduced me. "This is Lady Mori, the Prophet!” He acted like he was showing off the coolest toy on the playground.

The tall woman got right up in my face. "I knew she had to be the Prophet! The Rukh don't normally move this way around people."

Before I got to respond she started rambling comments and questions that covered everything in maroon and peacock blue getting sponged across a cream canvas. I stepped back and Isa cut her off. "Lady Mori will be answering everyone's questions in time. We were just on our way to see Yamuraiha so I can show her how everything has been coming along. You are welcome to join us."

She definitely joined us. As did many others who spotted us or were called over by others in our procession.

We walked through a few library areas, and up a few flights of stairs. As we passed various rooms and areas I was told what or who would be inside, but I wouldn't remember any of the specifics until I had a chance to use the space and explore on my own. What did stick was that most of the classrooms were next to the libraries and the labs were near the offices.

Yamuraiha must have heard our group from down the hall because her head popped out from one of the rooms ahead of us. "What is going on out here??” Then she made eye contact with me. "It's you!!"

That made me smile. I fought back responding 'it's me!' like I would with my friends. "I'm Mori. I'm glad I'm finally getting the chance to meet you, Yamuraiha!” I stopped walking when I got 3 yards/meters away.

She immediately pulled her staff against her chest with both hands. Her shoulders tensed but she had an enthusiastic smile. "The pleasure is all mine!"

Yamuraiha was amazing, smart, and endearing. I really wanted to be friends with her.

I out stretched my hand to shake hers. "I'm really excited to work with you, and learn more about magic even though I'm not a magician."

"The feeling is mutual!” She took my hand more than matching my excitement. And when she released it said, "Since you're here, would you like to see what we've been working on from the scrolls you gave us?"

"Yes please!”

---

The lab she lead us to was a little down the hall. All of my scrolls were spread out on one table and a bunch of notes and different materials were on an other.

Yamuraiha pulled out parchment that had a complicated magic circle written on it. "We can't do much yet, and it still takes a catalyst and many magicians at once to control the amount of magoi safely but our alchemy magic has made a breakthrough from your writing."

She asked a few of the magicians that came with me to join her. They pointed their staffs and wands at the magic cycle. A large crystal in the room started glowing, and the Rukh lit up the space from within the circle. Specks were pulled out of the pile of ingredients nearby -dirt, scraps paper, a small potted plant- and gathered at the center of the circle. The light got too bright for me to look straight at it and when it faded there was a small dark grey cube in the middle of the circle. It looked like a die with no markings.

Yam explained. "After reading about 'atoms' and 'bonds' in your scrolls it was like finding the missing piece. It will still be a long time before we can perfect the process, and we still can't make anything bigger than this yet, but soon we will be able to make anything we want!"

((In the future I intend to: reference more old memes, describe more of my experience with synesthesia, and explain more basic history and science. SO you all have been warned lol))

I had to respond; I couldn't just continue staring in awe. When I tried to answer I ended up gasping since had forgotten to breathe. I chuckled at my own shock as well as the situation. I looked up at them. "You're all amazing to be able to develop this already from the little I wrote!" I looked back at the stone. "I knew I wrote the keys to Yunan's signature alchemy magic in those scrolls, but to think you've already gotten this far with it -its amazing."

With this -when developed farther- we could make certain materials without having to worry about the pollution, and break things down easily so we won't have to worry about garbage piling up everywhere.

"Did you say Yunan? The Magi, Yunan?" Yamuraiha looked at me with wide eyes.

"Yes." It was my turn to explain. "Yunan is able to use alchemy magic like this on a grand scale. In the Fates I read he will have reason to visit Sindria in about 2 years. He creates a cabin and food in the middle of the Palace court yard so he has somewhere comfortable to stay."

The bird in the window ruffled it's feathers.

"Yunan explains the basic concept of how that magic works when asked, and since I know the science of the physical world I know the details to what he was talking about." My smile widened. "I hope my notes were easy to understand. Please let me know if you have any questions."

[the-silentium]

Folded messages

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Words: 4900 words

Warnings: TUA season 1 and 2 spoilers, swearing.

Requested by: Anon

Hello!! I just recently read you 11 Five fic and I have to say it was incredible. I have no words to describe it, your writing is so good💖💖 with that, I was wondering if you did fics based on songs, if you do, would you mind doing a 5xreader based on “sway with me” by Micheal Buble? Idk what the plot could be, maybe they are in a mission from commission and have to go to a fancy ballroom. Maybe they are enemies. Maybe reader pulls him to dance around S2. The choices are endless, go crazy :”)

A/N: Finally I found time to write! I've had insomnia for too long because I couldn't write! Damn day job! 

On a better note, I really hope you guys like this little piece of fluff 💜 I swear, this started as a small idea and then it just got bigger and bigger. Sorry not sorry!

Was it even possible? The prospect of falling in love for someone of his nature was almost as high as his targets' survival rate. He wasn't an emotional man, his feelings were deeply buried in the depth of his heavily guarded heart, locked away in a three inches thick chest that was itself hidden in an impossible maze where traumas and demons were furiously protecting the paths. 

Add this to the fact that he never saw her, not even once, the only proof of her existence being the small animals made of colorful folded paper that appears in his jacket pockets whenever he crossed her path, the possibilities of developing such feelings were in no way probable. The origami aside, the woman seemingly took pleasure in throwing wrenches into his work. He was asked to assassinate a brilliant inventor who was getting too close to discovering the secrets of time-traveling? It would have been an easy job if it wasn’t that every single bullet he had in his possession suddenly disappeared, forcing him to finish the job with his knife. 

There was another time, he was tasked with the termination of a group of people meeting in the back of a bar, his guns were loaded, his knives were sharpened, he was full of juice, there was no way that this job would take more than one minute and forty-three seconds. He made his way to the door leading to the room hosting his targets when he noticed a small dark purple llama on the door handle. He pocketed the folded piece of paper for later and tried the handle to find out that it wouldn't even turn on itself. The assassin rolled his eyes at the futile attempt to keep him from completing his mission, he closed his hands into fists but his ability decided to fail at this right moment.

The door behind him closed on a loud banging noise, a delicate click following closely behind, indicating that the door was locked from the other side. Five remembers it clear as day, the moment he knew he had found his equal. He heard you giggling lightly on the other side of the door and his heart started speeding up. Not in anger, not in annoyance nor in embarrassment. He couldn't say what it was, but he knew for sure that he wanted more of it. 

It happened four times, you making his job more challenging and him receiving a small gift before Five decided to do some research. In a box carefully concealed under the double bottom of his drawer were stored every paper animal he found during his missions along with books about origami and colors. 

An olive green and lavender cat, a dark blue dragon, an orange fish and a dark purple llama were now aligned on his desk in order of acquisition. The different books were opened on different pages and then Five started his information gathering. He scribbled in his notebook the different significance associated to each color and animal and an hour and a half later, he was contemplating his findings. 

The cat was a symbol of independence and mystery among other things. Its olive-green body with the patches of lavender told him that the first gift was, in fact, a peace offering from a feminine person. Her very own olive branch that he took long enough to decipher. 

Then there was the dragon, symbol of power, wisdom, mastery and success. The dark shade of blue told him that the dragon was full of knowledge, power and seriousness. He frowned, thinking and slightly hoping that maybe this was how she saw him. 

He didn't know what to think of the orange fish. Happiness, freedom and energy. He couldn't relate to this one, having not been free for many years now as stipulated by his contract with the Commission. He was a slave, used for his ability and his will to do everything to survive one more day and save his family from their imminent doom. 

Maybe the fish was a reference to yourself. This was the only explanation he could find. You were a young adult from what he deduced of your giggles and were pretty happy and free if the folded paper was anything to go by. 

The last gift proved that Five's theory stipulating that every origami was a metaphor about yourself and himself was correct. 

A dark purple llama. An animal representing hard work, endurance under difficult situations and responsibility. His heart accelerated at the possibility that you knew that he was trying to buy some time and betray his employer sooner than later. Would you rat him out? He really hoped that the olive cat meant that you were on his side and not against him, he would really hate to put an end to the warm feeling dancing in his chest whenever he realized that you were around and ready to play a trick on him. 

Now if he followed your logic, the next one he will receive will say more about yourself and he couldn't wait to be assigned to another mission so that he had a chance to learn more about you or even possibly see you. You, his little time traveler. Five had thought about this for the longest of time and he came to the conclusion that you were indeed a time traveler. The Commission kept very close control over their briefcase so there was no way that you had one in your possession, he would know, after all, he checked the lost briefcases records and they were all reported destroyed. 

To his dismay, his next mission was uneventful. He got in and got out. No hiccup, no paper animal. Nothing. It went like this for his next six missions and with every passing success, Five found himself getting irritated. Every night he found himself chasing your shadow in his dreams and every time you managed to evade his attempts at catching you. One morning when even his first coffee of the day wasn't enough to ease his frustration, he thought of a plan that would allow him to finally see you. 

To avoid making his kills personal, Five always prioritized a long-range way to kill, meaning with guns. Guns had a way to remove all responsibilities off his shoulder and lighten his soul at the end of the day. He had enough demons consuming more and more of his conscience on a daily basis, he definitely could do without this kind of remorse. Sure, he was the one who pulled the trigger, but ultimately, it was the bullet that killed the target, not his hands. 

But tonight, Five decided that he would complete his mission with the idea that you were around. If you were, then he would finally meet you. If not, he would need something strong to accompany his coffee. Whiskey maybe. 

He abandoned his prized sniper in the deserted building next to the one his target was currently dancing in and made his way to a back door. There he space-jumped inside the building and quickly blended himself with the crowd. He found himself straightening his suit in the case you were around and made his way to the bar. 

A glass of whiskey in hand, Five turned his back to the counter and analyzed the crowd in search of his wealthy bastard who was enjoying his very last evening on this Earth. There he was, dancing around, totally unconcerned of the people around him. 

Unconsciously, Five reached into his pockets where the gifts usually appeared out of thin air, his fingers searching around as they did a hundred times before but ultimately finding nothing. With a frustrated groan, Five grabbed his glass, emptied its content in one gulp, smashed the glass back on the counter and pushed his way to his target. Another night without your little schemes meaning another night chasing your shadow in his sleep. If this was how the night would unfold, then he wanted to finish this quickly. 

Five's hand reached for his target, grabbed a hold of his upper arm and pulled him in a nearby hallway before jumping the both of them in the nearby abandoned building where his weapons were patiently waiting for him. 

Five turned around to face his target, knife in hand and ready to strike when his breath caught in his throat and every muscle in his body contracted, stopping every movement. Where his prey stood mere milliseconds ago was now an elegant woman in a beautiful gown, all smile and giggling at his reaction. He knew it was you the second he heard your giggles, causing his heart to skip a beat and his fingers to let go of the sharp weapon. 

He stopped himself from moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear, instead choosing to release his grip on your arm and take a step away. You were too beautiful, so much more beautiful than what he imagined, with your shining eyes, your soft-looking hair, your perfectly curved body, he tried to burn every detail into his memory. 

"Dance with me?" You asked, closing the distance and reaching for his hand. Your movement got him out of his thoughts and everything came back full force. The mischievous glint into your eyes caused a smirk to form on his lips.

"You just want to keep me from my job." And you were doing a magnificent job at it.

"Is it working?" You batted your eyelashes in an innocent way, making Five roll his eyes before he positioned your hands correctly and pull your body so that you were almost touching each other. 

You smiled in satisfaction, following his steps flawlessly on a tempo only he could hear. The blue-eyed man enjoyed the silent minute, savoring the feeling of your soft skin cradled into his palm and the warmth of your waist radiating through the fabric under his opposite hand. The comfortable silence was soon replaced by a soft song playing in the background, stopping Five in his tracks and almost causing you to fall if it wasn’t for his strong arms keeping you up and close. 

Five eyes finally left your face and widened at the new scenery surrounding him. The once dusty floor was now pristine and exempt of all the trash and needles that were once lingering around, the tagged walls were perfectly painted in a new shade of light grey, giving the room a nice glow under the gleam of the light strings hanging from the ceiling. 

Five didn’t know his mouth had opened in awe before you chuckled and your hand left his shoulder to caress his chin, effectively causing him to close it. 

"I take it that you like it?" Your eyes were shining under the soft lights and the pride he saw in them almost got a smile out of him.

"You made this?" He was still stunned about the complete makeover of the room. Even the lingering moldy smell disappeared, letting a pleasant smell floating around in its place. 

"You’re not the first one the Commission took a liking to, ya know. I’m kinda like an illusionist, but my stuff is the real deal. They saw my potential and offered me a job, which I refused and they’ve been on my tail ever since." You shrugged, replacing your hand at its rightful place on his shoulder. 

Five was truly amazed by the woman standing in front of him. Her ability had so many possibilities and she managed to escape the Commission for seemingly a long time. Add this to the fact that she can time-travel and play tricks on the best assassin this planet has ever seen, Five has never been so interested in someone like that before, not even Dolores who has been his everything for many years. 

"I can see why they were interested in you." He resumed his dancing, this time following the rhythm of the soft music playing around them. "Having two abilities is pretty rare."

You shook your head, before clarifying. "I only have one. I don't know where you get the second one from." You frowned in confusion, which reflected on his own face. 

"But you time-travel." He remembered finding the folded fish in the 1800s, the dragon around the 1950s and today was September 23th, 1987.

"Yeah, the same way as you. With a briefcase." You nodded toward the black briefcase neatly placed near the window. Five only got more and more confused. 

"But they were all dest-" He cut himself at your cheeky grin. "You created your very own. Impressive."

"Thank you." You were beaming at that point and Five felt proud that he was the source of your happiness. 

The slow song ended but neither of you stopped moving your feet in unison. Five was enjoying himself like never before and he wasn't in a hurry to end it. The corner of his lips quirked upward when he realized that you pressed yourself against him when the song ended, your way of saying that you didn't want this to end either. 

You silently danced the second song in its entirety, living every second like everything would disappear at any moment. Five was scared that this was a one night deal and that he would never see you again. Why did you reveal yourself tonight of any other night? 

Before he gathered the courage to ask you, the song reached its end and a completely different kind of music floated in the air. 

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Five pulled away slightly, not much, only to be able to see the sheepish smile on your lips. "I love this song." Was your only answer to his frowned brows. 

Five laughed softly before stepping away and made you spin. He pulled you back to him, your melodious laugh bouncing around him like the greatest melody ever written. 

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

It was clear that neither of you knew how to dance on this song, but you didn't care. You were both moving around freely, Five making you spin from time to time. 

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway I go weak

Five's heart was beating quickly, not because of the physical exercise, he was trained to accomplish way more than dancing without breaking a sweat, but because the sight of your delighted face stroked something deep within himself. A primal need. The need of a life partner. Someone who he could trust blindly and love without holding back. 

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

A too-quick step made you trip on your own feet, in an attempt to keep you on your feet Five reached for your arms but it was already too late. Instead of helping, Five only unbalanced you more leading you to fall to the ground and drag the man with you. Thanks to his sharp reflexes, Five caught himself on his forearms before he crushed your small form under his larger one. 

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

For a moment the assassin's heart stopped in fear. He hasn't felt afraid in years and it definitely wasn't a feeling he had missed. Your laugh flicked a switch in his heart, making it beat again in an erratic rhythm that he was almost embarrassed of. He guessed that if feeling that good meant that sometimes he was going to be afraid, it wasn't a big deal. He could deal with his fears if at the end of the day you were fine and happy in his arms. 

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

"I'm so sorry Five!" You managed to say after catching your breath. Tears rolled from your eyes and into your hair, the reflection of the lights above creating stars in your eyes. 

"It's fine." Was all he could say, for his brain had stopped working when he realized that only a couple of centimeters separated the two of you. His body started heating up to his dismay, Five pushed on his arms and sit on his heels to help you sit up. 

When marimba rhythms start to play

Hold me close, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

"Thanks." You muttered while passing a hand through your messy hair. 

The sound of a metallic object falling on the ground made you jump. Five frowned, confused as to why the Commission would send him another assignment right now and not wait until his return. 

"What was that?" You whispered. 

"My employer." He was beyond annoyed by the interruption. They couldn't have chosen a worse time than tonight. 

Offering you a helping hand, Five got up and helped you when your hand closed on his. He couldn't stop himself, he enlaced his fingers through yours, the tightness of your grip made him chuckle. 

"Don't worry, they are not here." He lightly hit the wall near the window with the underside of his fist, searching for a spot on the wall that wasn't hollow. When he found it, he searched for the dissimulated door and took the canister with his name written on it. 

Releasing your hand, Five opened the canister, took the folded paper and read the words. Terminate Y/N L/N. How was he supposed to terminate someone he didn't even know? This job was so frustrating! He folded back the paper, storing it in his pants pocket. This would have to wait. He turned back to you and the sight bring a genuine smile to his lips. 

You were smiling at something outside the window, the light of the moon joined to the string lights gave you an angelic glow. He would have loved to contemplate you longer, but duty called and he now had two targets instead of one. 

"I have to go." He didn't dare say it too loud, maybe time would stop and let him live this perfect night for all eternity. 

You turned around with a small smile on your lips. He could see that you were disappointed even though you nodded like it was nothing. "Well, tonight couldn't go on forever." You walked up to him, with each one of your steps Five felt himself growing weak in the knees. Oh how he didn't want to go. "It's fine. I'll find you again." At that, you tenderly reached for his cheek while your lips pressed a delicate kiss on the other one, stealing his breath. 

You giggled, surely at the blush covering his cheeks and walked away, the illusion fading along with your steps. Just as you were about to walk down the stairs, Five remembered something. 

"Wait! I didn't get your name!" He quickly space-jumped in front of you to block your path. 

"Y/N L/N." Her smile dropped when a dark expression fell on his face. Even if he tried, he couldn’t have repressed it, the surprise and the anger were too much. 

"You have to leave." He didn’t know how they found her, he always made sure he didn’t have any bug on himself before going on a mission. 

"N-not that I wasn’t doing that anyway, but w-why the long face?" His fingers twitched at the waver in your voice. It wasn’t his intention to scare you, even less to scare you off. 

"The Commission knows you’re here. I don't know how, but they know." Five was starting to get tired of them pretty quickly. Maybe one day he would get out of there with explosions resonating through the hallways. Maybe he could use grenades. Yeah, grenades were good. 

You started to walk down the stairs when you stopped and turned to him, one last time. "Be careful."

Five smirked although your concern was touching. "I should be the one telling you that." 

With one last giggle, you walked out of his sight. Five returned to his very first task of the night, took place at his spot by the window and finished the initial job. 

Back at the Commission that night, Five removed his jacket, eager to go to bed and find himself dancing in your arms again to the sound of soft slow music. A sound caught his attention when he threw his jacket on the back of his chair, the sound of crumbling paper. 

His hands searched his pocket, grabbing the grey fox that somehow found its way into his jacket without him noticing. A smile stretched his lips before he carefully slipped the fox under his pillow and went to bed. 

A whole year passed before the next animal appeared in his pocket. As frustrated as he was of being away from you for a whole year, Five knew why this was necessary. The Commission was close on your tail. Apparently, he wasn't the only agent tasked of your termination and some got lucky enough to find your location but not enough to hurt you. 

The whole year he kept tabs on the Commission's information on you and kept worrying that someday he would find a red stamp crossing out your picture.  As of today, his worst nightmare hasn't yet come true, so he pushed his worry aside and continued his job. 

He assembled his sniper, preparing himself to kill the president of the United States in 1963 when something hit him in the head. It didn't hurt or anything, it was light as a leaf. Frowning, Five pulled away from the scope of his weapon to discover a brown frog made of folded paper lying on the ground next to his feet.

Receiving one of your signature gift after all that time caused his heart to skyrocket in his chest. All those feelings he had repressed, fearing that one day you would be gone for good and that he would definitely be alone in this cruel world, came rushing back at full speed, making him drop his gun and look around for you. 

You weren't far, waving at him with a tired smile on your face, dark shadows marking the underside of your eyes. He didn't take the time to run, simply jumping to you and engulfing your body into his arms.

Many times he thought about how much he had fallen for you after only one dancing night and five tricks followed by origamis. If it were someone else, he would have told them that they were being stupidly influenced by their primal urges that forced them to find a partner and procreate, for this was the circle of life since the dawn of time. In his case, he knew it was much more than that. It was more important to him than a need to procreate. He had found his equal, someone that sparked an insatiable interest in him and showed him that there was way more in this life than what he originally knew. 

Five tensed as soon as he heard the first sobs. Immediately he started to scan your body for wounds or blood, anything to show that you were hurt. However, his analysis was cut short by both your hands cradling his cheeks. 

"I'm fine. I'm just real' tired and I'm so happy to see you." Your arms wrapped around his neck forcing Five to hug your body closer. Not that he minded. 

He whispered words of reassurance into your hair while thinking of what to do next. You couldn't keep fleeing the Commission alone, not in your state. They would catch up to you in no time and he couldn't have that. He couldn't say that he killed you to get them off your back, the higher-ups would request physical proof of your death. It only left him with his last resort. He would have liked to find the good variable, but time was against him so he would have to deal with it. 

"I have a plan, don't worry." He dried her tears with his thumb when she lifted her head to look into his eyes. "I'll get us out of here." 

You managed a smile before chuckling. "I know. Why do you think I gave you a brown frog? A frog to ensure a safe return of your journey and brown for home." 

Five shook his head, once again amazed at how perfectly you could read him despite everyone else describing him as unpredictable. 

He grabbed your hands in his, mentally reciting the equation he passed the last 45 years developing. Before the portal appeared, Five stopped everything in a hurry, scaring the shit out of you. He let go of your hands for two seconds, enough time for him to run back at his sniper, grab the brown frog and run back at you. You rolled your eyes when he secured the frog in his jacket pocket, quickly saying that it has sentimental value, before concentrating on the portal again. 

The blue vortex appeared, its power pushing them away. It took every ounce of strength into Five's body to pull you with him through the portal, your weakened state left you helpless in front of the blue resistance. 

Five did his best to catch you during the fall, your body falling directly on top of his, stealing his breath for a moment. 

You managed to roll off of him, allowing him to take a nice bowl of air to fill his lungs. He made it. You weren't 100% safe, but he could have help now. He cou-

"Five." The worry in your voice along with your hand closing tightly on his forearm pushed him to sit up quickly and find the source of the danger. He understood your reaction when his eyes fell on his siblings who looked like hell. 

"You guys didn't change one bit." He deadpanned. His usual unimpressed face was back in service at the gaping fish-like faces of his siblings. 

"We should be the one telling you that. You haven't aged at all!" Klaus yelled, his outstretched arms moving up and down in his direction. 

Confused, Five glanced at his body and realization hit him like a brick. He knew something wasn't right! 

Your repressed giggles caught his attention, he found your 13 years old body, a hand on your mouth desperately trying to keep a full-on laugh in. He couldn't help but notice how much more tired you looked in your younger self. 

"It's not funny." Was all he said before he spacial-jumped the two of you to his old bedroom. There he guided you to the bed where he helped you get under the covers and watched you get comfortable. 

"It is funny." Five scoffed and went to the door, knowing his siblings were gathered behind it and very probably listening to their conversation. He hit the door with his foot and as expected, Klaus yelled in pain, complaining about his hurting ear. 

"I'll be downstairs to talk in a few minutes so get lost." He told them through the door. He was awarded by some angry muttering and finally, fading footsteps. 

He walked back to your side when he was sure that everyone went on their merry way, sitting on the nearby chair with your hand in his. 

"You need to rest. You'll be safe here." He kissed your hand at your tired smile. "I'll stay until you fall asleep, that okay?" You nodded, already your eyelids seemed pretty heavy. 

"I missed you Five."

You were out in less than two minutes, your breathing became deeper and slower, your facial muscles relaxed and your mouth opened slightly allowing Five to hear your even respiration. 

The boy didn't notice exactly when it happened, but the demons were now silent and the traumas shrank in size, forming a clear path toward the center of the maze that was his heart. There, the three inches thick chest that was protecting his feelings was now wide open, strings were delicately wrapped around them, not too tight as to not suffocate them, but with just enough contact so that he could permanently feel her affection enveloping him.  

"I missed you too."

[A/N] This passed SO close to having an angsty ending! So close! I figured you guys had enough angst with 11 already… and the part 2 that's coming next. 

[ahgaseda]

enough | six

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

It wasn’t until you stepped inside your condo that your heart began to calm. Arguing with Jinyoung still excited you like hell, made something reckless rush through your veins. The two of you were just as hot-headed and stubborn as ever.

Sometimes, you were desperate to get a reaction out of him. No matter how big or small. Especially when he was guarded, which was almost always. It was then you realized that regardless of how many years had passed, you and Jinyoung were still the same two kids wildly and hopelessly in love with each other.

It didn’t matter what was said and done, there would always be the push and pull. You would always find your way back to each other. Your fates were intertwined, destined to tangle despite the distance between you. In a way, you and Jinyoung were doomed to be stuck with each other forever.

With a shake of your head, you chuckled quietly to yourself. Less than an hour had passed and you already missed him. It was pathetic and deeply wounded your pride.

Striding toward the bedroom, you stopped in your tracks when Jackson proceeded to make himself comfortable on the living room sofa.

Brows stitching, you asked confusedly, “Um, what are you doing?”

Jackson glanced at you and flashed that grin of his, replying coolly, “Oh, Jinyoung asked me to spend the night.”

You rolled your eyes and retorted, “Why? To make sure I don’t fuck anyone?”

“Of course not,” Jackson scoffed. “Don’t be a brat.”

You snorted. Under the circumstances, only Jackson could get away with calling you that. Then, a dark thought crossed your mind and you asked, “Am I in some kind of danger?”

“Absolutely not,” Jackson said, like a seasoned politician. It technically wasn’t a lie, he reasoned. You were perfectly safe with him in the next room.

“Okay,” you sighed, knowing neither Jackson or Jinyoung would ever readily admit anything of that nature to you.

In the penthouse, Jinyoung sat pensively by the fireplace, a glass of hard liquor in his hand. He rattled the ice cubes before taking another swig.

Relentless and systematic, he had been undermining Jiwon. Turning his allies against him. Alerting his enemies to his moves. Jinyoung knew how to deal with potential threats, but that did nothing for the fact you were now in the line of fire.

Jiwon’s tactics had reminded Jinyoung why he stayed away for as long as he did, why he made sure to never link the two of you together. Until you forced his hand. It was a dangerous business, his line of work. And there was a reason why men in his position never kept lovers more than one night.

Jinyoung rubbed his forehead where a throb and ache were festering; a side-effect of thinking too damn long and hard.

He couldn’t protect you every minute of every day. You had a life to lead, a dream you had been working toward for as long as he had known and loved you. It wasn’t fair for him to control your every move, to make you live in a constant state of fear that at any moment someone could try to take you away just to punish him.

“I have to get out,” Jinyoung whispered to himself, running a hand down his face. For a long time, Jinyoung had been drunk on the power his status gave him. For once in his life, he had control in the hellfires that surrounded him.

But he wasn’t fireproof.

He could let it all go for you, couldn’t he? He wouldn’t think twice when it came to starting over for your sake. At this point, Jinyoung was ready to give up everything just for the chance to wake up next to you each and every morning.

The wheels were turning in his head. He mapped all the ties in his mind - the ones he would have to sever. Nothing could keep him tethered to this life. He would have to start from nothing.

When the phone rang and jolted him from his reverie, Jinyoung glared at the thing in annoyance, softening only when he saw your name and photo on the screen.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked gruffly.

You frowned and wished you could stare daggers into his face. “Well, hello to you, too,” you smarted back.

Jinyoung felt his lip twitch with amusement at your tone and said, “I can’t talk long.”

You were agitated by his dismissal of you, which could only mean he was in deep thought and not to be disturbed, but you would be damned if you let Park Jinyoung tell you what to do.

Getting comfortable in bed, you pulled the blanket up to your chest and huffed, “Fine. I’ll keep this short. Do you think we will ever be able to move past any of this?”

Jinyoung chortled. “I’m an insufferable grudge holder.”

It went without saying you knew that better than anyone. “And I run from my problems.”

Jinyoung’s wrath flickered and he snapped, “I was a problem?”

You flinched, playful smile vanishing from your face as emotion bubbled in your chest, and quickly stammered, “That’s not what I meant…”

“I know,” he interjected, heaving a sigh. Jinyong realized one of these days he would have to let that go, but for now, it continued to burn a massive, gaping hole inside of him.

You felt small, like a child begging for forgiveness after running away from home with her head hung low. “You weren’t what I was running from,” you countered softly.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” said Jinyoung. But I wish you would.

“Jinyoung, you saw me,” you replied, as if reading his mind. “Everyday I had to look you in the eyes and see how fucking terrified you were when you looked at me.”

Jinyoung remembered that, though he tried desperately not to. There were countless nights he tried to drown the image of you out of his mind, withering away before his very eyes. “We were in it together,” he whispered, hurt.

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. Yes, Jinyoung was always by your side, but he didn’t know the battles raging inside of you. He would never know the agony you felt. “I was the only one in that car,” you spoke firmly.

Jinyoung moved the phone from his mouth, stifling his rage. He would never forget the day he almost lost you forever, but even though you were back safe in his arms, he saw the light had faded from your eyes. The girl he knew and loved had left him.

At his silence, you were finally given the chance to say your peace. “I became defined by my trauma. I was dying inside little by little every day. I was losing who I was. The girl you fell in love with was fading away until I was just this shell of a person I used to be.”

Jinyoung swallowed the lump in his throat. “You had to get out.”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see. “I did.”

“I respect you for saving yourself, but I resented you for not saving me, too,” Jinyoung confessed, his voice nearly breaking.

Tears welled in his eyes. The hurt was festering inside him again. He relived the day you left him over and over until it was branded permanently across his memory. He waited for the pain to dull, to fade, but time never healed that wound.

“I wanted to,” you murmured, a tear escaping down your cheek. “When I came here I had a plan. I would work my ass off by night and go to school by day. I wanted to make a life for us and I wanted to be the girl I always dreamed of being.”

Jinyoung straightened his shoulders and buried his emotions as he always did. He couldn’t dwell on them. The more he did, the more the hole in his chest deepened. It threatened to rip him at the seams. “So, we went different ways toward the same goal.”

Your first instinct was to argue, but you mulled. “I guess we did.”

“You weren’t the only one who changed,” Jinyoung spoke in a low tone, rising from his chair to top off his glass. “If you were defined by your trauma, then I was defined by my anger. I let it put me on paths I would have never gone otherwise.”

You often thought of Jinyoung after you left. Did he tear the house to pieces? Did he scream and cry until his lungs gave out? You imagined he burned every picture that ever existed of you and him together.

“Jinyoung, I wanted to take you with me,” you started, biting your lip.

He swallowed down the liquor, gritting his teeth at the familiar burn down his throat, and continued, “I know, but I joined the gangs. That’s not your fault.”

“You did it because of me,” you insisted. “Because of what happened to me.”

Jinyoung paused. The image of you in the hospital - bloodied and bruised - had broken the last of the goodness in him. Jinyoung had danced with the darkness, flirted with the danger, but you leaving him on that driveway was the breaking point; the moment the dance ended and he let the darkness consume him.

“I had always known I would die for you if I had to,” Jinyoung finally said. “When I realized I was willing to kill for you, it changed me.”

“I regret it,” you whispered, face tensing with more tears. “I regret leaving you.”

“Don’t,” Jinyoung replied levelly, though he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms. “We are who we are because of the choices we made. Like it or not, we are all defined by the bad shit that happened in our lives.”

You sighed loudly, rubbing at your tears with a fist. “You’re right.”

He laughed in surprise and joked, “Someone get that on tape.”

You chuckled, relieved to feel the humor cutting through the tension. After a short pause, you told him, “Goodnight, Jinyoung. I love you.”

“Sleep well, baby,” he said, taking another gulp. “I love you, too.”

You hung up the phone and curled back into bed. The weight of his words kept you awake, haunted by the depths of their meaning and their consequences.

When I realized I was willing to kill for you, it changed me...

You swallowed, imagining Jinyoung’s hands dripping with blood as they came to settle around your throat. But you didn’t cry out in fear, you moaned in pleasure.

Shaking the imagery from your mind, you eventually drifted to restless sleep.

The next morning, you woke to your phone ringing. Heart thudding at the prospect of talking to Jinyoung again, all things considered, you roused yourself and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Excitement quickly dissipated when you saw the caller.

“Hey, Hoseok,” you answered sleepily. “How are you?”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he replied, apologetic. “I was calling to ask you that.”

You rose from the bed, stepping toward the window to see what weather to expect for the day ahead. “I’m okay. What can I do for you?”

Hoseok shuffled on the other line and he couldn’t find his voice for a moment, but finally said, “This is really inappropriate of me, but would you like to meet for lunch?”

“Sure,” you responded, brow furrowing. “Why would that be inappropriate?”

“Since we don’t work together anymore.”

You rolled your eyes at his concern and replied, “I still consider you a friend, Hoseok.”

Hoseok was relieved to hear that, but it only worsened his guilt. “I want to apologize and make things right with you. Is that okay?”

The awkwardness from the night before was still clearly present, but it did nothing to undermine the past four years of having Hoseok as a faithful friend and protector. You tried to put him at ease as best you could. “You don’t need to do either. We’re fine. But I’m not opposed to grabbing a bite to eat with you, for old times’ sake.”

“Alright,” Hoseok said, and you could practically hear his smile. “See you at the usual.”

“See you there.”

You hung up and looked at your phone for a moment. Jinyoung had accused Hoseok of having some kind of feelings toward you. Hoseok didn’t deny it, but he didn’t really say anything either. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Hoseok had done nothing but be good to you since the day you met him.

Stepping out of the bedroom whilst fastening your earring, Jackson glanced up and asked, “Well, where are you going all dolled up?”

The pleated skirt stopped just above your knees and the sheer white blouse was loose-fitting over your black tank top. It was supposed to be a beautiful day and you dressed accordingly.

“I’m going to lunch with Hoseok,” you told him nonchalantly.

Jackson’s countenance changed on a dime. It was the first time he used a heavy tone with you. “Is that wise?”

Preempting an argument, you countered patiently, “Jacks, listen. He was there for me when I had nothing and no one. Besides, he’s a bodyguard. He won’t let anything happen to me.”

Jackson’s gaze was stern, you almost faltered, but with a sigh, he relented, “I will be right outside the entire time. Non-negotiable.”

“Fine,” you said with a short nod, thanking him for his understanding.

Meanwhile, Yugyeom was thrilled to have something to do. He opened the back door to the Range Rover for you, whistling at your dressed up self. You waved him away with a grin and hopped inside.

Given it was still quite early in the day, the small restaurant was almost empty. You stepped inside, spotting Hoseok at one of the tables. He stood and greeted you warmly, waiting for you to sit before he returned to his seat.

“I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble with the boss,” you spoke quietly.

“Not at all,” Hoseok replied, waving away your worry. “Business as usual today. Some of the girls have been asking about you.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. You were grateful for the friends you made at the agency, but by the nature of the business, no one bonded too closely. “I miss them already.”

Hoseok shifted in his seat and began, “I, uh, asked you here for a reason.”

You assumed to clear the air, but something about his visible discomfort put you on edge. “Let’s hear it,” you said as the waiter set a glass of water before you.

Hoseok paused until the server was out of earshot to say, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

His eyes were heavy as they bore into yours and he spoke under his breath, “For what I’m about to do.”

Your brows stitched.

Hoseok withdrew a folder from behind him and placed it on the table before you. “You know nothing about Jinyoung.”

Your heart sank, but a wave of rage surmounted your disappointment. After a pause, you murmured softly, “I’m the only one that knows him.”

“You know the old him,” Hoseok told you with a shake of his head and proceeded to pull a photo from the file.

At the tiniest glimpse of blood, you slammed your hands down over his, eyes fixated to his face. You didn’t know you were capable of the level of anger surging through your body and your voice came out a low growl, “Hoseok, I’m warning you.”

Hoseok hesitated. You were seething before him, gripping his hands and keeping them on the counter, blocking the image from view. Slipping from your grasp and placing a hand over yours tenderly, he warned, “I don’t want you to get into bed with a man like that.”

You bristled and snapped, “Hoseok, I’m not naive. I know everyone likes to think I’m the little girl that’s just a plaything for a powerful man. Every girl in the agency gets into bed with bad men, worse men. The only difference is your feelings for me.”

Hoseok blinked.

Fear crept up your spine. Emotion gripped your throat tight. Lips trembling, you thought, Please don’t show me the monster I created.

Hoseok lowered his head, sighing loudly. Without another word, he pulled the photo from beneath your hands and tucked it back inside the folder.

Seeing him back down, you asked, “You know who told Seokjin about me and Jinyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“An interested party,” came a voice behind you.

As you turned, the man sitting blithely at the table behind yours had moved to your side. He spoke your name in greeting, a sinister smile plastered to his face, and said, “I’m Jiwon, a former employee of Jinyoung’s.”

“Disgruntled, it would seem,” you deadpanned.

“Why don’t you hand me that phone?” he sneered, glancing down at your lap and holding out his hand.

Your phone had been in your right hand, concealed beneath the table, and you were attempting to text without looking, hoping to get a message off to Yugyeom or Jackson or even Jinyoung, for all you cared.

Shifting your gaze to Hoseok, you noticed the shame on his face before he hung his head.

“No, I think I’ll hang onto it,” you replied, hiding your phone behind your back.

Jiwon exhaled loudly for dramatic effect as he sidled into the seat next to you, pulling a switchblade from his pocket. The bite of metal was suddenly cold against your waist, even through the fabric of your shirt.

You looked down at the blade and swallowed the lump in your throat. It all made sense now. Jackson staying over. Being hesitant to let you go to lunch. You were in danger. And now Jackson was right outside, but had no idea you were at a stranger’s mercy.

Bringing your gaze back to his face, you asked, “Are you going to stab me in the middle of a restaurant, Jiwon?”

Jiwon leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Believe me when I say I’ve done much, much worse.”

You believed him. Trapped between him and the wall, there was nowhere for you to run, no way to escape. With a frown, you handed him the phone without further resistance.

“What do you want?”

Jiwon slipped your phone into his back pocket and sang, “I want to open your pretty little eyes. Help you see the light where Jinyoung is concerned.”

You tried to stay calm, appearing unaffected. Instead, you feigned annoyance. “If you have a problem, take it up with him. I’m just his toy.”

“Nah, sweetheart,” he crooned, stroking a finger over your cheek. “You’re his baby.”

Everything about this man repulsed you and you tried to lean away, but the switchblade followed, staying pressed to your side. “Then, you know you should leave me alone,” you warned.

Jiwon took your threat in stride and said, “He started off small after you left him. Guns, drugs, women. Easy to imagine Jinyoung as a pimp, isn’t it?”

Your eyes burned.

“With patience and dedication, he ascended the ranks. Made a name for himself. He’s ruthless and rightly feared in the underground.”

You knew you were on the verge of tears, but above everything else, you couldn’t risk crying in front of this man. “Stop,” you choked out.

“Don’t you wanna know where all the money comes from? How he’s able to spoil his baby girl like he does,” Jiwon taunted, spinning a lock of your hair around his finger as he toyed with you. “Rich and powerful people have problems that can’t be seen or they will lose everything. Jinyoung is the one they call to fix those problems.”

“You’re lying.” You were adamant, but anyone could tell you believed him. You knew he was telling the truth.

“Am I?” Jiwon questioned, motioning to the table. “Look at the file. I got it for you. That’s a government official file. Everything they have on him.”

You looked at the manila folder before you and the next words out of your mouth surprised even you, “I don’t care. Whatever’s he done… I still love him.”

Jiwon cocked a brow. “Anything?”

“I can’t stop loving him,” you muttered in defeat. “I tried.”

Jiwon sighed yet again. “Oh, baby girl. If I can’t turn you against him, then I have no choice but to take you away from him.”

“Jiwon,” Hoseok warned. That clearly wasn’t part of the deal when he gave his cooperation.

“You’re done,” Jiwon shot back with a pointed finger.

Your eyes widened as Jiwon tugged harshly on your arm and you exclaimed, “Hoseok, you would rather I be dead than with Jinyoung?”

Jiwon pressed the blade to your side, glancing around. “Get up and walk. Don’t make a scene.”

A phone rang in the background. The owner of the restaurant answered and not a moment later, he began yelling to close down the shop.

“Shit, he’s on to me,” Jiwon cursed, leaping to his feet and hoisting you up violently. “Let’s go, baby bird.”

You struggled - it was your body’s natural instinct - and yelled, “If you’re just gonna kill me anyway, I won’t make it easier for you.”

Jiwon weighed his options. He needed you; you were the only card left to play, but you had no intention of going quietly. The situation was devolving. The restaurant cleared out. And Hoseok was starting to move toward you.

“Jiwon,” shouted a familiar voice.

You caught a glimpse of Jackson barreling inside before Jiwon released you, turning tail and running as his life depended on it. You staggered with adrenaline into Hoseok’s arms, pushing him away angrily.

“Hoseok, get out of here,” you snapped, trembling with nerves. “For the years you took care of me, I can give you this one chance. I may not be able to save you when he gets here.”

Hoseok gave you a parting glance filled with regret before reaching for the folder on the table.

“No, that’s mine. Remember?” you spoke under your breath.

Hoseok looked between you and the file, then he left without a goodbye or an apology.

Though you expected neither.

You grabbed the folder and hurriedly stuffed it into your purse, plopping down onto your seat and grabbing your untouched glass of water with a shaky hand.

The door opened and by the slow, drawn-out footsteps, you knew exactly who was coming.

Jinyoung slipped into the seat across from you, trying desperately to conceal the turmoil on his face.

“Are you…,” he began unsurely.

“Don’t,” you interrupted, refusing to look at him. Your blood was boiling.

Jinyoung exhaled loudly through his nose and respected your wishes. For a moment or two, you sat there in silence until you finished your glass of water.

“Are you happy?” you finally forced the words out. “Is this what you wanted?”

He frowned.

Gazing down at your trembling hands, you murmured, “You know, that day they kidnapped me, I swore I would never go through that again. If anyone ever tried to take me, I would fight like hell. I would rather die than be taken to whatever horror they had waiting for me.”

“Baby…,” Jinyoung started, wanting to silence you. This was dangerous territory for him. He couldn’t bear to hear anymore.

You set your jaw. “We both know what was gonna happen to me, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t stomach it; he never could. Even at the hospital, he refused to listen when the police tried to tell him about the men who had taken you and what their intentions were. The town had been descending deeper and deeper into depravity.

And even though salvation had come, you still lost a part of yourself. Your peace. Your joy. From that moment on, you stopped seeing people. You only saw danger.

Jackson rounded the corner, approaching swiftly. “Jinyoung, we got him. What do you want to do?”

Jinyoung looked at you for a moment. You still refused to meet his eyes. In fact, your attention remained fixated on your shaking hands. And he was overcome with hatred.

“I’ll be right back.”

You stood sharply in dissension and called after him, “Jinyoung.”

Your lover rounded on you, speaking darkly and slowly, “Sit.”

Everything in you resisted for the sake of your stubbornness and pride, but your body obeyed him without a second thought. The Jinyoung standing before you was an entirely different animal.

Your eyes lingered on his back as he stepped out of your sight.

Jinyoung ambled into the alleyway, devoid of expression as he approached the dead end. Jiwon was there on his knees, Jaebeom standing over him with a fist in his hair.

“Jiwon, I knew you were crazy, but I never thought you to be stupid,” Jinyoung chastised, taking your phone from Jaebeom’s outstretched hand.

Jiwon spat blood from his mouth. Jackson had not hesitated to inflict punishment on him when caught, resulting in the busted lip and broken nose. “I’m flattered,” he grumbled, obstinate.

Jinyoung slipped his hands in his pockets and drifted closer, appearing almost indifferent. The bloodied sight was pleasing to his eyes, fanning the fires of his rage.

“I admit, you had me for a moment, but all you did was wake the bear.”

“I already screwed you, Jinyoung-ie,” Jiwon taunted, flashing a grin of crimson-stained teeth. “I gave them every shred of condemnable shit I have on you.”

Jaebeom clocked a glance at Jinyoung. He knew what that meant. Jackson clenched his jaw, enraged.

Jinyoung didn’t flinch, didn’t bat an eye. “Then, I’m doing you a favor. There is no life on these streets for a snitch.”

Jiwon laughed. “No point in killing me. You’re going to lose her. I won.”

“I win,” Jinyoung replied. “I’m the one keeping my life.”

The blood drained from Jiwon’s face. The rebellion left him and he exclaimed, “Really, Jinyoung? You’re gonna kill me in broad daylight over this shit?"

Jinyoung glared and retorted, “I would gladly kill you in the middle of Time fucking Square.”

Jiwon whimpered. It finally sank in what a mistake he had made.

Jinyoung crouched down, his eyes scalding. He never made decisions out of vengeance, only strategy, only necessity. Which was what Jiwon had been banking on. But there was a first for everything. Staring his enemy in the face, he whispered, “You put your hands on my girl.”

Jiwon swallowed.

Jinyoung lifted back to full height and gave a single nod to Jaebeom. “Do it.”

Jaebeom pulled the gun from his belt and cocked back the chamber.

“Yugyeom, I swear,” you said sharply, yanking your hand from his grasp. Poor Yugyeom had been trying to usher you into the waiting car and failing spectacularly.

Jinyoung emerged from the alleyway and onto the sidewalk. You overlapped your arms, ignoring Yugyeom’s pleas. Jinyoung took one look at you and knew that you had far surpassed furious.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked loudly. “Why haven’t you called the police?”

Jinyoung dragged his feet to you, outstretching his arm with your phone in hand.

You took your phone, staring down at the screen and seeing your own reflection. It hit you. Jiwon was dead. Threatening you had cost him his life.

“Baby…,” Jinyoung began, ready to face your wrath.

You took a step back at his approach and cried, “What did you get me into?”

Jinyoung lowered his head.

You hissed, gritting your teeth, “This is exactly the life I didn’t want for us!”

“I know.”

That infuriated you. He never sounded so indifferent, so unaffected by something that shredded the fabric of who you were, but you knew he was only hiding. Jinyoung devoted all of his energy to appearing strong on the surface.

“I can’t do this,” you whimpered. “I can’t live in that kind of fear every day. You of all people know that.”

“Come here,” Jinyoung crooned, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck and tucking you into his arms, your face buried against his chest where you belonged.

“No,” you snapped, pushing him back and storming away, wiping your tears roughly with the back of your hand. You had no idea where you were going, just that you needed to get away from him.

Jinyoung knew that, too, and he trudged behind you, always a few steps in your wake. “Where are you going?” he asked, annoyed.

You continued down the sidewalk, aimless and in denial, and shouted, “I’m not doing this. I’m not going through this again.”

“Through what?”

You said nothing.

Jinyoung felt his heart sink somewhere into his stomach. He quickened his pace, grabbing your arm and spinning you round to face him. “Stop and talk to me,” he yelled, afraid.

“You’re going to make me do this all over again,” you spat, shoving his hands away.

Jinyoung was at his breaking point and though he never dared raise his voice at you, this time he screamed, “What the hell am I making you do? Spit it out!”

“Leave you!”

Jinyoung paused, stunned into silence.

You staggered, covering your face with both hands as the tears began to flow. “It killed me last time. It really killed me. I won’t survive a second time.”

Jinyoung frowned and his voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “Then, don’t.”

You shrugged, running out of energy. “What choice do I have?”

“You have me,” Jinyoung snapped, clasping your arms like he was about to shake some sense into you. “We have each other. That’s enough!”

You lowered your gaze to the road beneath your shoes. “I’m sorry.”

Jinyoung refused to listen, refused to believe for a second you would do this. “No.”

“Let go of me,” you whimpered, trying to pry yourself from his grasp.

Jinyoung was too strong and he held you with every fiber of his being. “I’m not letting you leave again,” he hissed bitterly. “I was young and stupid last time, but not anymore.”

What a fool you must have looked; standing on the sidewalk yelling at your lover like something out of a second rate drama. “Jinyoung…”

Jinyoung’s voice was filled with conviction, it seeped into the air around you to the point you could feel his fire inside yourself. “You said it killed you before. Well, it killed me, too! When are you going to realize we can’t live without each other?”

It was a poignant question. You knew the answer the moment you left him four years ago. Without Jinyoung, a piece of you was missing.

Jinyoung softened, only a little. His hands slipped from your arms, moving to cradle your face as he stared into your eyes with longing and devotion. “I don’t care if this way of life gets us killed in the end. At least, we will have been together. You would rather be away from me and safe than with me and in danger? That doesn’t make any sense. Your place in this life is with me!”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Then, stop all this bullshit about running away,” he growled. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared shitless, too. But I know what I’m doing now. I take care of you and you take care of me. That’s it. That’s the bottom line. Nothing else matters.”

You had no argument and even if you did, you wouldn’t use it. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. You never wanted to be parted from him again for an instant. He was where you belonged and you finally came to accept it.

But you couldn’t justify his way of life and you snarled under your breath, “You know why I hate the gangs. Why I hate everything about what you do.”

Jinyoung nodded and spoke diplomatically, “I know every reason why. I hate them for all the same reasons. But I learned a long time ago, if you can’t beat them, own them.”

You sighed and peered up at him with bloodshot eyes. The file in your purse felt suddenly heavier. “How many people have you killed?”

Jinyoung blinked, surprised by your question. But he answered without hesitation, “None.”

You tilted your head. “You have other people do it for you, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, and not very well. In fact, Jinyoung didn’t even try to change his tone. He knew you would see right through him this time.

“Don’t lie to me,” you pressed; unsure what answer you wanted out of him and knowing damn well nothing he gave you would suffice.

Jinyoung leaned in, slipping his fingers into your hair, and whispered, “I have never taken someone’s life with my own hands.”

That was enough for now. You just wanted to be in his arms. “Take me back to your place,” you ordered stubbornly. “I’m not sleeping alone tonight.”

Jinyoung studied your face and ultimately nodded. His heart was racing. He recognized your fight or flight response - you were ready to bolt. The memory of him chasing that truck down the drive flooded into his mind. You never looked back as he screamed your name, begging you not to leave him.

The car was eerily quiet as Yugyeom drove. You and Jinyoung sat together in the backseat, but there may as well have been a wall erected between your bodies. Jinyoung turned to you only once, seeing your eyes fixated on the window as buildings blurred by.

Jinyoung knew in that moment he had lost. He would wake in the morning and find you gone.

You felt a storm raging inside you; a constant conflict and collision of emotions. The hardest thing you had ever done in your life was leave Jinyoung and for what? He still became what you feared, if not worse. You looked back in regret, wishing you had stayed with him.

Jinyoung called your name.

You turned reluctantly toward him, but he was looking pensively at his hands.

“It was never your job to save me,” Jinyoung said gently.

“Of course it was,” you replied, a little too sharp.

Jinyoung shook his head. “You made the right choice, baby. Now it’s my turn.”

You rolled your eyes and angled back to the window before tears could stream down your face.

If the car was quiet and tense, the penthouse was much worse. Jinyoung had your study materials brought from your house and then ordered food, not that you had much appetite. Then, he locked himself in his bedroom and didn’t come out again.

You studied as best you could, occasionally stealing glances of his door. Yugyeom did his best to alleviate some of the stress, but his humor could only go so far. You spent the afternoon on the verge of tears as you poured over textbooks. In the evening, you indulged yourself with reruns on the television.

By the time night fell, the bedroom door opened and Jinyoung stepped out, looking quite disheveled. He had clearly slept most of the day away.

“Go home,” he told Yugyeom.

Yugyeom leapt from your side without argument. He had a penchant for rebellion and teasing, but even he knew neither of you were in a lighthearted mood at the moment.

You said your goodbyes and watched Jinyoung for an explanation.

Jinyoung cocked his head toward the bedroom and said, “Let’s go to bed.”

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him. You wanted to be angry, perpetually reminded of the day’s events and the folder in your purse that could very well hold the fate of your relationship inside. Standing up sharply, you stomped into his bedroom and Jinyoung closed the door behind you.

Jinyoung rifled for a white tee while you unbuttoned your blouse. Your eyes were on his back as you tossed the shirt away, tugging your tank over your head and unclasping your bra impatiently. Jinyoung faced you, failing to hide the way his attention fell to your naked breasts.

You pulled your skirt down until it dropped in a pile around your feet and there you stood in only your panties. Jinyoung bit his lip, pupils widening at the sight before him. You grumbled under your breath and held out your hand.

Jinyoung tossed the tee to you, which you pulled on quickly, and watched you clamber into his bed. You settled on the mattress and made yourself comfortable beneath his messy array of blankets. On your side, you closed your eyes and buried your face against the pillow.

It smelled deeply of him.

“Should I crash on the couch?” Jinyoung asked bluntly a moment later. He was trying to gauge just how angry you were at him.

Your fuse was short and you barked, “Get in here, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung didn’t hesitate to crawl into bed behind you, tucking to your back and curling an arm around your waist. It didn’t matter how furious you felt, being in his arms provided a feeling of safety and security you could never find anywhere else. When you were with Jinyoung, you were untouchable, invulnerable.

“I will never love anyone but you,” Jinyoung whispered into your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I need you to know that.”

“I know,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

Jinyoung flexed his grip, holding you tightly. He wanted to lose himself inside you, until only the good parts of him remained. If there were any left. Jinyoung knew he was far beyond redemption.

Not long after midnight, the emptiness of the bed woke you. Adrenaline snapped you to attention, threatening to keep you awake for as long as it took to find Jinyoung and bring him back to bed.

“Jinyoung?” you called out, striding to the bedroom door and expecting to see him sulking on the couch.

But then you heard a noise in the bathroom and stopped, approaching the ensuite and opening the door.

There, you found Jinyoung on the tiled floor, sitting across from the toilet as he proceeded to cry his eyes out. You took one look at him and collapsed, falling to your knees and reaching for him.

“What happened?” you exclaimed, flinching when he batted your hands away.

“Nothing,” Jinyoung snapped, covering his red face as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

He looked on the outside the way you felt on the inside - like a total, hopeless wreck.

“What is it, Jinyoung?” you asked frantically, attempting to take his cheeks between your palms. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jinyoung shouted, his voice reverberating off the tiled walls. “I dreamt the love of my life threatened to leave me again and I had no one to blame but myself!”

You fell back as if you had been slapped across the face. Blinking through your own tears, you studied Jinyoung and how devastated he looked. The facade he paraded himself behind had shattered into pieces and you were determined to sift through the ruins.

“I won’t leave you, Jinyoung,” you whispered tenderly, cradling his face though he looked away. “You were right earlier. We can’t survive without each other. We never could.”

Jinyoung tilted his head back, resting against the wall, and merely shook from side to side as if his entire body was saying no. He blinked slowly, finally meeting your eyes, and hissed, “I don’t believe you.”

Bristling, you snapped, “Well, kiss my ass then.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise before the slightest smile took over his lips.

Rising to your feet, you stepped over him and into the shower, turning on the water before returning to him. “Get up.”

He peered up at you and said nothing.

“I said get up,” you huffed, reaching down and grabbing him by the shirt with both hands.

Jinyoung allowed you to pull him up and drag him into the shower, but he growled your name in surprise when the cold water hit his skin. You held him tightly to you beneath the running water, both of you quickly drenched while clothed, and assumed he would try to escape.

You had no idea what you were doing. Naturally you had assumed the water would be hot, given how damned expensive his penthouse was. Perhaps you just wanted a diversion, something to alleviate the heavy emotions threatening to suffocate you both.

Jinyoung fixed his gaze to your face, looking positively annoyed, and both of you fell into laughter at the same time at how ridiculous this was. You were relieved to see him smiling, heart fluttering when he leaned his forehead against yours and let his hands rest on your waist.

Overcome with your feelings for him, you fell forward, colliding into his chest and smashing your lips on his.

Time came to a screeching halt. Jinyoung cupped your face and smiled against your mouth, pleased by the urgency of your kisses.

He indulged your tongue slipping past his teeth for a moment and then he was on you, tangling his fingers in your hair while capturing you in a kiss full of hunger. His body pushed against yours, backing you into the wall roughly. You cried out at the contact, but he silenced you with his tongue.

“Fuck, why am I still so in love with you?” Jinyoung groaned.

“I love you,” was all you could say, tears stinging your eyes.

Jinyoung leveraged you against the tiled wall, slipping his hips between your legs. His next kiss was gentle, his eyes open to see the heat on your face.

Water mingled from the shower into your mouths, but all you could taste was him. Every slow, calculated tease of his tongue had you reeling. Your heart was beating at a steady but accelerated thrum, anticipating what would follow these passionate kisses.

“Jinyoung,” you finally whimpered, running out of patience.

“Shh,” he quieted you softly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Just you and me, baby. Always.”

You hummed when his lips drifted to your neck, sucking at the base of your shoulder. You gasped in a breath, slipping your arms beneath his to sink your fingers into his shoulders. He was going to unravel you, you could feel it.

“Don’t stop,” you told him breathlessly, letting your head fall back against the tile and hooking a leg over his hip.

Jinyoung marred your beautiful neck, sucking and biting. Without a word, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and hoisted you up, carrying you into the bedroom. You panted softly against his ear, heart racing with desire and expectation. You thought at any moment your chest would explode.

Jinyoung set you down on the bed beneath him, hovering over you and returning his kisses to your neck. Every smack of his lips was wet on your damp skin, droplets of water still streaming down your bodies from the impromptu shower. Jinyoung pried your hands from around him and stood upright, dragging your hips forward to the edge of the bed.

You exhaled nervously, slipping a hand into your hair. Your face was hot. Your pulse raced. With his simplest touches you were ready to shatter into a million pieces in his hands.

Jinyoung grasped the hem of your shirt and pushed it upward until you sat up and made it easier for the garment to slip over your head. He pressed another kiss to your lips, trying to calm your racing heart.

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his fingers in the band of your panties and brought them slowly down your legs. You couldn’t help but squirm beneath his heated gaze.

Jinyoung roamed his palms down your soft thighs, kissing and tonguing his way down the inside of your thigh before giving a swift bite. You squeaked slightly at the sharp pinch of his teeth, but your core clenched with delight, betraying you entirely.

He traveled up your body again, cupping your face and kissing you hard. You held him desperately and moaned into his mouth, grabbing his shirt and yanking it off of him. Jinyoung parted from your lips with a chuckle and stood again, gazing down at you naked and bare for him.

You watched him begin pushing down his pants, meeting your eyes and whispering, “I’ll go slow, baby.”

All you could do was nod and swallow the lump in your throat. You dared not say anything. Part of you was convinced that at any moment he would leave you wanting as he had done so many times before. Your mouth watered when he discarded his pants and his hard cock came into view.

Jinyoung finally kneeled on the bed, grasping the insides of your knees and lifting your legs how he saw fit, spreading you apart. You lay there like you forgot how to function. You were entirely at the mercy of the overwhelming need for him inside you.

You gripped handfuls of the sheets in your fists, losing your mind with restraint. Jinyoung guided himself to your entrance, pushing the head inside and watching you tense beneath him.

Jinyoung smirked at your sensitivity and grasped his cock, slipping his shaft between your folds and coating himself with your wetness. He watched your reaction as he teased your bundle of nerves with the tip of his length.

“Jinyoung, inside,” you keened, your body taut with desire. If he only knew how badly you throbbed and ached for him.

Jinyoung propped over you, chest-to-chest, and kissed your nerves - and impatience - away. He teased his tongue in your mouth and palmed over your breast, rubbing his cock between your slit.

Then, you felt his hips shift and he penetrated you slowly, filling you at an agonizing pace. You had no choice but to feel every inch of him bottoming out. You pressed your eyes closed and moaned for all to hear, legs bending beside his hips.

Jinyoung let out a groan, sheathing himself inside your warm cunt. His lips parted with a shaky breath.

He was so big. You couldn’t fathom how he fit so perfectly, so tight without ripping you open. That first thrust was always the best, making your body shudder with pleasure as you stretched to accept him.

Jinyoung was not faring any better than you. His lips were back on yours, but he breathed heavily. You were a vice on his cock, kneading and pulsing around him with need.

You gave him a nod that you were ready and Jinyoung lifted, propping himself on his fists and drawing back his pelvis to thrust into you. You bit your lip and let your hands lay at opposite sides of your head. You stared up at him in reverence, whimpering after another hard smack of his hips.

Jinyoung glanced down, growling at the sight of your pussy stuffed full of his thick cock. He fucked you at a steady pace, pushing himself in and dragging back out.

It felt so good, even better than you knew it would. Your soft whimpers and moans filled the room, music to Jinyoung’s ears.

He only touched where your bodies connected and the sight was erotic. You bent your knees and angled your hips to accept him deeper, sighing loudly in ecstasy. Jinyoung watched your breasts bounce each time his cock drove inside your tight pussy.

You wanted to smile. Jinyoung was making love to you.

He had a penchant for being rough, dominant, but there were times he could be gentle. Jinyoung loved taking pleasure from your body and fucking you to orgasm, but for now he took his time, wanting to savor the feeling of finally being one with you again.

“Deeper,” you coaxed, voice raspy. “Harder.”

Jinyoung finally tore his gaze away from his cock disappearing inside your cunt to look at the hooded lust on your face. He brought a hand to your throat and gripped snugly, not enough to put pressure, but certainly enough to snare your attention.

“Take what I give you,” he growled, stealing a kiss none too gently.

You held his wrist, walls tightening at his total dominance over your body, and nodded your obedience.

Jinyoung was about to lose his mind. He could hear the wet suck of your pussy each time he pushed his cock inside. He knew he couldn’t last much longer. The harder he went, the faster he would finish.

The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Given the weeks of tension and the years of distance, you knew this would be fast. You knew he would make short work of you.

Tears slipped from your eyes. From pleasure. From emotion. You cried for the years wasted without him and for how complete you finally felt now that he was buried inside you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jinyoung crooned, reaching up to wipe a tear with his thumb.

You clenched your fists in the sheets beside your head. “I missed you,” was all you could choke out.

“I know, baby,” he said, running his fingers over your nipple before giving your bouncing breast a hard squeeze. “You feel so good. So warm and so tight.”

You moaned. He never slowed his pace, never fell out of rhythm for even a moment. Every inch of his thick cock kept pumping deeper and deeper inside you. You didn’t want it to end. He truly owned you mind, body and soul.

Jinyoung lilted his head. “You gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

“Mm,” you hummed. By his tone, it was not a request.

Jinyoung braced a hand on your hip, pinning you to endure his quickening pace. You shuddered beneath him, throwing your head back as the mattress began to creak from his roughness. He pounded into you, hitting that sweet spot and driving you insane.

“Jinyou…,” was all you could manage.

Jinyoung leveraged both hands on your thighs, throttling into you harder and harder, fucking you good until stars burst behind your eyes. He glanced down to see where your bodies met, where his cock disappeared inside your swollen pussy.

“Come for me,” he said darkly.

You cried out for mercy, body jolting from the intensity of his thrusts. Another hard smack of his hips and you were over the edge, back arching on the bed as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Jinyoung pinned your arms, wary of your fingernails, and watched your satisfaction with a smirk. Your cunt clamped down on him with a vengeance, making his movements stutter.

The moment you regained some of your senses, you pushed his chest, wrestling him off of you and shoving him to his back. Jinyoung watched you in confusion before grinning with pride, grunting when you straddled him and took his painfully hard cock back inside you.

You watched his mouth gape open, the smallest of moans lingering in his throat. You anchored your hands on his firm chest and bounced your hips up and down.

“F-fuck,” Jinyoung stammered, surprised at how eagerly you rode him, how tightly your innermost walls gripped every inch of his length.

You flipped your hair behind your shoulders and ground yourself down on his cock, wanting him to climax harder than he ever had before. The lines of Jinyoung’s face were tense and furrowed. He was holding back with every shred of strength he had. His chest heaved for breath and his body bobbed on the mattress with how rough you fucked him.

Suddenly, Jinyoung sat up with you in his lap, grasping your waist. “Stay still,” Jinyoung choked against your neck.

“But…,” you started confusedly.

“I don’t want to come yet.”

You giggled and sighed, “I won’t hold it against you.”

Jinyoung released a nervous chuckle and the sound made you shiver. By the weakness in his voice, you knew he really was on the brink of blowing his load.

Grinning, you kept riding him, grappling with his hands as he tried to get ahold of you. You arched your hips, pumping your velvet walls on his cock.

“Say you love it,” you whispered darkly, yanking at his hair until his attention was on your face.

He didn’t hesitate to pant against your lips, “I fucking love it.”

“Come deep, baby,” you spoke even softer.

The familiar swell and throb of him almost made you climax again. With a twitch of his cock, Jinyoung lost himself to pleasure and began to fill you.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung cried out, moaning with every burst of cum that painted your insides.

You held him tighter, shivering at the rapid hot and cold of his breaths on your neck. He overlapped his arms around you, squeezing with all of his might while gritting his teeth.

Jinyoung gave a final groan, utterly spent, laying you on your back and pressing you into the mattress with the weight of his body.

You roamed your hands across his sweaty skin; anywhere and everywhere you could touch. He was scalding against the pads of your fingers, like a raging fire burned inside of him.

Jinyoung stayed sheathed inside and pinned you between his muscly arms, gracing tired, wet kisses to your lips. “Are you okay?” he asked tenderly.

You offered him a nod, staring into the glistening black of his eyes. He looked so fucked out, you wanted to grin with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction.

“Say something,” he rasped, searching your face for an answer.

You raked your nails down his back, stopping only when your hands landed on his ass. “Catch your breath,” you warned playfully.

Jinyoung’s eyes flickered with surprise and arousal. Then, he smirked.

You took his lip between your teeth and tugged, and your voice was husky when you purred, “The night’s just getting started...”

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a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[tiifalockhart]

Safety

@wistful-wings​ asked: Since you asked, request time! :D Somehow a degrading Genesis winds up in a soft warm bed with someone looking after him because damn he's sick the guy needs some love and care damnnit.

Pairing: Genesis x Reader

Warnings: mentions of starving, death, trauma, depression and anxiety.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I have finally delivered the Genesis content. Hope this is okay!! Thank you so much for your request, feedback is always appreciated!

Ao3 || Masterlist

Everything was cold.

His skin was cracking, his fingertips were permanently cold, his hair and features had all turned an ash grey. It was a curse: living a life where Genesis already knew his fate. No matter how hard he fought, he was trapped in a shell that was falling apart. He fought like hell to end up losing to himself. 

Every day, breathing became more and more of a chore. His on-setting depression began to consume him. Sephiroth’s words from Nibleheim rang in his mind unendingly, he was constantly reminded of what he was to become.

“You will rot.”

One of his only friends throughout his life, his partner, his idol (no matter how much he hated to admit it now) had destroyed him with those three simple words. He felt like shit. Genesis ruined everything... Now Angeal was dead, and Sephiroth was nowhere to be found. All of this for revenge... If he had quietly left, maybe they would still be alive, maybe they would have come with him. 

As much as he hated Shinra for what they did to him and the others... It certainly wasn’t worth losing everything.

For years, he had been hiding from anyone and everyone. He was afraid to show his face, the shame and guilt of what he’d done consumed him. What would Angeal do if he were still alive? He would have turned himself in... Or something like that, wouldn’t he? Dammit. It was conflicting... Genesis was so unsure of himself majority of the time now. 

He was so cold and lonely, his body was failing him in more ways than one, and his intrusive thoughts certainly didn’t make the long and dreadful days go by any faster. Life was... Painful to say the least. Genesis managed to find a cave to hide in, somewhere where the sunlight wouldn’t give him migraines, where the public eye couldn’t find him, he felt surprisingly safer in that cave than he did with his own thoughts.  He struggled to find peace, his mind screamed at him over and over about how he was a monster, how he killed his friends and how he deserved this unbearable fate. 

Eventually, the pain of existing became too overwhelming one day, and he found himself wandering through Midgar aimlessly, trying to find some kind of release from this dreadful life. He thought it was the end for sure this time, his coughing had gotten worse, his limbs were weaker than ever, his skin was pale and his hair was the color of the Modeoheim snow. He didn’t have enough power within himself to perform a fire spell to attempt to warm himself up again. He knew this was the end. Maybe... It was for the better.

When he blacked out finally, no one would have ever known he was gone. Genesis was a distant memory at this point, who would have cared about his disappearance? He prepared himself to face the meaningless afterlife, to be rejected by the Lifestream and simply float out to nonexistence. 

So, when he heard that gentle voice coaxing him back to life and reality, confusion hit him like a truck. Genesis thought he was dead for sure this time, so why was it he could hear a voice calling out to him?

“-ello?”

“Are you okay?”

“Wake up, you’re safe now.”

Confusion flooded Genesis’ features when he stirred. He wasn’t floating aimlessly in the Lifestream... He was alive still... Somehow. His eyes examined the room around him. He appeared to be in a bedroom, small potted plants and knick-knacks decorating the open space. Next to him, he noticed you sitting in a chair, a look of concern decorating your features. Once he was full aware and all his senses returned to him, he sat up quickly, a distrusting glare taking over his features. 

“Where am I?!” He demanded, staring over at you. You raised your hands in surrender automatically, your eyes widening at his sudden outburst. 

“You’re... You’re in my house. I saw you passed out, I thought you were hurt-” You explained hurriedly, sitting back in your seat. “I made you food... And brought some water.” 

He raised a brow and glanced over at the plate and cup sitting on the bedside table. From what he could see, it was already better than anything he had been eating for the past years. Hesitantly, he relaxed a little, nodding lightly. “Thank you.” Genesis muttered softly.

A sigh of relief left your lips as he seemed to calm down. “Are you feeling okay? Do you feel sick? Maybe weak?” You asked, examining him for any injuries. He shook his head slowly, frowning slightly. 

“No, I feel normal.” He lied, even though his mind was racing with thoughts. Why did you take him in? Why did you trust him? It didn’t make sense. Do you not know who he is? He was bewildered from your... Normal response to him. 

You nodded awkwardly in response. “Well... You can make yourself at home until you’re ready to go.” You stated, standing and heading towards the closet. “I have some old clothes that might fit you. You can also use the bath if you wish.” You explained, placing a couple of towels on the foot of the bed, along with an oversized sweater and sweatpants combo. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here... I couldn’t leave you there, though.” 

Genesis looked over at the outfit and towels, narrowing his eyes slightly. Now you’ve decided to take care of him? He didn’t deserve it, he was a murderer, a manipulator, a... Monster. Monsters don’t deserve to be taken care of. He pushed those thoughts away quickly, attempting to find his voice once again. “Thank you.” He responded, his voice sounding strained. It sounded like he was forcing it out. 

However, you didn’t waver. You simply assumed it was him struggling to be thankful, which was fairly naïve. How were you supposed to guess that he was having an internal battle between his confusion and his intrusive thoughts? “Well... I’ll be downstairs. Dinner will be ready soon, you should come downstairs after you bathe, if you’d like.” You explained, nodding awkwardly. 

Genesis didn’t respond this time. He was unsure of what to say. The tension in the room simply grew thicker the longer you stayed there, so you left fairly quickly. After the door closed again, Genesis let out a breath of relief as he pushed himself off the bed and stumbled over to the mirror. His hair was still white, all color had vanished from it. His dark circles, his pale complexion, his colorless eyes all stayed the same. No wonder you brought him in, he looked like he was on the brink of death. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled away from the mirror, unable to stand looking at himself anymore. Instead, he distracted himself with moving to the bathroom. Walking was a chore in itself, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else at the moment. Dammit, why was he so weak? He used to fight battles back to back, now he can barely walk a few steps without feeling like collapsing. 

After finally reaching the bathroom, he took his time with bathing, appreciating the feeling of warm water flowing down his back. The scar on his back appreciated it too, it didn’t sting when the water hit it just right. It was... Nice. His sore muscles could relax a little, while his limbs slowly regained their strength. Once he was out of the shower, he pulled on the loose clothing, silently appreciating the looseness and comfort of them. 

Just as you requested, Genesis arrived downstairs awhile after the two of you parted. His eyes scanned over everything in the house, he noticed small mementos from your family and friends, picture frames of different people, random things that managed to explain the type of person you are. He also noticed that the small dining table was set for two people, you and himself he assumed. Out of everything he noticed though, you were nowhere to be found. He checked the kitchen, the living room, and the dining room once again. There were no traces of you anywhere. A confused expression settled on his features, until he heard the front door open. Hesitantly, he entered the room and raised a brow once he saw you. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize you would be done so quickly.” You pointed out, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips. “I was just feeding the street cats.” 

“I was in there for an hour.” Genesis mentioned, which caused your cheeks to obtain a light shade of pink. “You feed... The street cats?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, a lot of them get dropped off here. It’s really sad, so I make sure I feed them every morning and every evening.” You explained, guiding him back to the dining room. “I decided to go ahead and do it, I figured you’d be longer than an hour.” You added, heading into the kitchen as Genesis took a seat at the table. He found you to be such a curious creature... You were kind to everything, no matter what its background may be. He watched you closely as you worked, his eyes following you as you returned to the table.

You carefully placed an extravagant meal in front of him, a shy smile forming on your lips. It consisted of steak (behemoth meat), along with other healthy sides. He stared in amazement as you placed the final item, a small basket of bread, in front of him. “I usually don’t eat like this... I figured today would be the day I make something nice.” You explained awkwardly, taking a seat across from him. “Feel free to eat as much as you like, or as little. The rest will be used as leftovers for myself or the cats.” 

Once you began to serve yourself food and eat, Genesis finally snapped out of his daze and followed along, serving himself relatively small portions at first. He wanted to taste everything first, before digging into his favorites. Unfortunately for him, though, he found everything to be absolutely delicious, it was the best food he’s had in years, even when he was working at Shinra. He finally gave in and decided to fill his plate with everything, hoping that he could eat it all.

The two of you stayed in silence most of the meal, you didn’t seem to mind that Genesis wasn’t interested in conversation. He was grateful for that, his face was so full the majority of the time that there was no time to speak. Somehow, the two of you managed to finish the meal on your own. Genesis felt like he was on the verge of a food coma by the end of the meal. He was beyond thankful at this point, you had done so much for him with no questions asked, you were quite literally a gift from the goddess. 

When you were cleaning up, Genesis decided to show his thankfulness a little. He helped you carry the dishes into the kitchen, and he offered to clean them as you wiped down the table. To you, it was a sweet stranger, especially from a stranger like him. You could sense him beginning to trust you, which calmed your nerves a little more. The odd factor was the fact that the two of you had hardly spoken at all. Besides a couple small exchanges of words, it was mostly silent between you both. It was a little unnerving, but you couldn’t think of anything to fill the void with, so you simply dealt with it. 

As the night rolled in, the awkward silence that you and Genesis had slowly developed into a comfortable silence. You ended up introducing him to the cats outside, but he appreciated them from afar. You also offered some books he might like to read, he was uninterested in them. Eventually, it was getting too late and you were fairly exhausted. 

“I’m going to sleep soon. You’re free to do whatever you wish... If you stay, that’s okay, but you also don’t have to stay.” You explained, looking back at him from the stairs. 

He raised his brows, a heavy feeling forming on his heart. “...Are you sure? That you don’t mind me staying.” Genesis asked, his tone a bit quieter and sensitive. 

You smiled in response to this. “It’s your decision. I don’t mind having you around.” You answered, giving him a reassuring nod. He hesitated and looked away, a conflicted expression forming on his face. You took this as the end of your conversation and continued up the stairs. 

“Wait!” He called out, taking another step up. “I didn’t really say thank you.” He stated, furrowing his brows. “I... I don’t know how I can make it any more genuine. But seriously, thank you for everything.” Genesis murmured, looking down at the floor. 

A soft laugh left your lips, which caused him to look back up at you in confusion. “Why thank me? I’ve just treated you like a house guest.” You pointed out, snickering. “You’re welcome... I guess? I thought what I did was bare minimum...” You muttered the last part to yourself, before shaking your head and looking back at him. “I’ll do better tomorrow!” You decided, a determined look in your eyes. 

For what felt like the first time in awhile, a smile formed on Genesis’ lips. It wasn’t a smirk, or a deceiving grin, it was a genuine and heartfelt smile. It felt... Weird. He liked it. Maybe he’ll stay for longer then... “I’m looking forward to it, then.” He responded, matching your lighthearted banter. 

The both of you stood still for a moment, as if finding some way to continue, before you finally broke the silence again. “Well... I should get some sleep to prepare for tomorrow. See ya.” You waved down at him, before heading off to your room for the night. 

Genesis couldn’t really describe the feelings he felt at that particular moment, but he knew that staying was a better idea. A fresh start... Maybe it won’t last for so long, but it was a nice break, especially since the position he’s in currently isn’t exactly the best. Or maybe... He didn’t have to explain himself. He was going to stay because he wanted to. 

He felt safe with you, and that’s all that mattered. 

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 6.15}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 6.2k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

They hadn't technically agreed to meet again before breakfast, but Robin almost counted on it that Snape would be waiting for her at some point between where they had parted half an hour ago and the great hall. And indeed, it was the entrance hall where they crossed ways as if by coincidence, and for a brief moment Robin wondered how he always did that. Snape seemed surprised to see both Jorien and Cas following after Robin, which was understandable after what she'd told him a few hours ago, and Robin didn't waste time to address the matter at hand.

"I gave both of them detention for today." She said with a small sigh. "And now they-..."

"She can't actually give us detention." Jorien cut in, glaring at Robin, then turned to face Snape. "Right? There's something called rules, which Robin obviously has never heard of before! She's in no position to give us orders!"

"And what, pray tell, gives you the audacity to judge that?" He replied with a sharp glance at Jorien, and it took the wind out of her sails immediately. "If you had questioned my decisions like that, Miss Blakeley, you would be serving more than one day of detention."

"So she's actually allowed to do this?!" Jorien looked entirely exasperated now. "Her word is law?"

"Obviously." Snape scowled at her in his usual manner. "I will be seeing you in my classroom after breakfast."

"That's got to be a bloody joke!" Jorien groaned and stormed off without another word, entering the great hall with anger radiating off her in palable waves.

"I, uh… Sorry, for… her." Cas said quietly, giving both Snape and Robin an apologetic look. "We, I mean, I… will see you. Both. After… yeah." Without another glance at either of them, she made her way through the large doors as well, disappearing into the direction of the Ravenclaw table.

As soon as the doors fell shut again, Robin closed her eyes and sighed deeply. After a night like the one she's had, this is not how the morning was supposed to go. And it certainly wasn't a good idea to treat the healing wounds of one relationship with the cutting edges of another.

"I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen, and it certainly wasn't supposed to happen like this." She finally said as she opened her eyes again to peer up at Snape. "Thank you for having my back nonetheless."

"Any time." He replied calmly, as if he hadn't just given Jorien a death glare half a minute ago. "And don't be sorry. This conflict obviously has great significance to you, and therefore I would like to see it solved as well."

"Thank you." She sighed softly, then ran a hand through her hair while collecting her thoughts. "I just wanted to sort this out… but then things escalated and I did the only thing I could think of."

"You gave them detention."

"Yeah." Robin still was entirely unhappy with that fact, but she would make the best of it now. "Cas was quick to accept it, but Jorien…"

"She reminds me of you in your first year."

"Ugh… I know." Robin groaned, rolling her eyes, but she still couldn't help smiling a little. "She's heard too many of the cutting remarks I direct at other people. She's gotten rather good at hurting people with her words herself."

"Perhaps I should indeed have given her even more detention for her behaviour then."

"Nah… Wouldn't fit in with your punishment policy, would it? She would hardly have learned from that; her problem is her anger, not discipline or authority."

"Indeed." He mused, watching how Robin leaned against the wall behind her with a sigh. Almost curiously, he raised his eyebrows at her then. "So why did you choose to give them detention in the first place? Not that I wouldn't approve of that decision, but it surprises me nonetheless."

"It's the only possibility to get them to stay in the same room, with each other and with me. The only legal one, at least." She shrugged, clasping her hands between her back and the wall.

"Clever. As always."

Robin's lips tugged upwards into a small smile upon the comment, but she tried not to let it cloud her focus on the problem at hand. "I'm going to make them talk to each other, and it won't be pretty. I've gotten a good glimpse of it already, and I'm honestly not looking forward to the entire thing unraveling. But they've got to stop what they're doing to themselves, and to each other."

"Their actions have an effect on you even more than on each other, I believe."

"Yeah… But they don't know that, and they don't have to. I'm good if they're good with each other, and I'm willing to do a lot to get them there. They won't have to thank me afterwards, not even talk to me if they'd prefer not to."

"You'd be surprised by how much some people are willing to forgive." He quirked an eyebrow at Robin, and she had to smile yet again. Alright, he had a point.

"We should go in, or breakfast will be over before we've had a bite." She finally said and pushed herself off the wall. "Should be dreadful as always, without anyone to talk to."

"Actually, I would be glad to miss the inquiries about my whereabouts that are certain to come up at the head table."

"Since when do you bother with inquiries about anything at all?" Now it was Robin who quirked an eyebrow at him with a small smirk.

"Just because I have no intention to reply to them unfortunately doesn't spare me from hearing them."

Robin couldn't help laughing at the pout in his tone, and she found herself wishing that she could just fight off all the inquiries he didn't want to hear. She didn't particularly like answering annoying questions either, but she didn't dread it nearly as much as Snape did. Somehow, she thought it to be her task, her privilege to spare him from that.

"You could always pretend to be listening while really thinking of something else. With your usual range of reactions in public, nobody would notice a difference." She mused with even more of a smirk, and for a short moment, she even got one in return.

They entered the great hall then, each moving to their respective tables in silence, but as far as Robin could tell, both in as much contentment as the situation allowed. Of course, both hid it in their own way. Snape with the usual public scowl, and Robin with the usual calm neutrality. She would get Cas and Jorien to talk to each other today, there was no doubt in it. She would make sure that this would be a good day after all.

… … …

The detention served its purpose wonderfully indeed. Being forced to stay in the same space for an entire day meant that Cas' and Jorien's conflicts were prone to escalate eventually, and once they did, it was also inevitable for the storm to pass. Even better, they were quicker to forgive each other than Robin had anticipated. By lunchtime they were mostly talking to each other again, and by the time detention was over they were back to being best friends after all.

Neither remembered to apologise to Robin when they left detention that evening, they didn't even acknowledge her involvement in their conflict at all. But on the flipside they were quick to treat her as their adult friend again, their big sister rather than their enemy, which left things off as if nothing had happened in the first place. To Robin that was a good enough result, she didn't need an apology nor a thank you. Only for things to return to normal between the three of them, and she had definitely achieved that.

So when she sat in the office again that night, drinking coffee with Snape while refusing to leave just yet even though she was tired enough to fall asleep over her mug, she knew that she had been lucky. From here on, things would start to be alright again indeed.

_______________

Robin cursed under her breath when she flipped the book in her lap shut with a bang that was loud enough to echo through the curves and edges of the arcades around her. Her free period was about to be over, having passed all too soon, while yet the dreadfully slow pace of her classes on this mid-May Friday seemed to be trickling by like endless seconds turned to dust. It was just two more weeks until the end of term, until exams. Two more weeks until her N.E.W.T.s in herbology and potions. She had been studying relentlessly ever since February, and ever since that day in March she's had Snape by her side again to help her as well. Still, she felt like there wasn't enough time to cram all that unnecessary and redundant theoretical knowledge into her head. All those facts she knew would never be of any relevance to her, or some of which she straight out believed to be wrong. But she still had to know them if she wanted a good grade, and thus she used every minute of every day for studying.

Things between Robin and Snape had returned to normal quickly after their shared crash-and-burn experience in March. Well, perhaps not quite back to normal. There were certain things that were different now, positively different. Honestly, they were closer than ever, and Robin couldn't be more glad about that. Ever since the beginning of May they had paused their usual evening lab work (which usually was of a more experimental nature by now, if not mandatory restocks or preparations), and instead started trying to perfect Robin's skills in making every and any potion that might possibly come up in the practical part of her final examination. It was a great way to practice, and she was thankful beyond measure for his help, but still Robin couldn't help feeling entirely unprepared. Snape kept on telling her that she would be fine, but honestly it didn't ease her nerves too much. She would never be as good as him at actually making potions, and she would never be as good as she wanted to be either. If that was even possible in the first place.

So when another free period ended with an entirely unproductive feeling, she climbed out of her arch in the arcades with stiff limbs and a scowl. Stupid textbooks… who the hell wrote these bloody things anyway? They were practically useless for anything other than passing standardized tests. She seriously considered writing a potions textbook herself at some point, while she made her way towards her charms class, just for the sake of it. Perhaps she would keep it in mind as a career option.

Luckily charms was the last class of the day, but it would still be a dreadfully long afternoon if Flitwick would continue his endless lecture about a spell to write in different fronts on blackboards, which he had started last week and never quite managed to finish. Robin sat down at her desk with a sigh, but only took off her sunglasses at last when Flitwick gave her a pointed look for it. Yes, perhaps it wasn't polite to wear sunglasses inside, but had he ever tried to see anything while facing a window the sun was shining through?! Obviously not. Thus, Robin was left squeezing her eyes together to keep looking at the charms professor while he started the class. But her misery didn't last long.

Two minutes into class time, the door flew open and in strode the only saving grace that was even better than sunglasses right now. Still, his trademark billowing robes and overall dramatic entrance made Robin smirk way more than she probably should have. Without even knowing what Snape was here about, she started packing up her things already on instinct. If this was coming to be a repeating pattern, she would gladly oblige.

"Severus?" Flitwick asked in mild surprise that equalled that of his students. Perhaps it was the fact that Snape never bothered to knock that came as such a surprise to everyone, or perhaps they simply were scared to be in trouble.

"I'm afraid I need to steal Miss Mitchell from you, Filius." He stated as neutrally as ever, and Robin tried her hardest not to smile like an idiot. Of course he was here because of her… he would've sent one of the second years he was supposed to be teaching right now for anything else. Robin took a quick moment in her mind to pride and chide herself for the fact that she knew his class schedule better than her own.

"Uh, certainly! I mean…" The slightly dumbfounded charms professor glanced at Robin who had already gotten up and shouldered her backpack without a concern in the world. "For… for how long?"

"The entire lesson, of course." Snape drawled in feigned annoyance and gave his colleague a look that made it abundantly clear that he wouldn't answer any more questions. Thus Flitwick merely nodded, averting his eyes from the intense gaze, and then continued his lesson as if nothing had happened.

Robin followed Snape out of the room, and only once the door had undoubtedly fallen shut behind them and they were alone in the hallway, she allowed herself to smirk up at him. "Am I needed somewhere or did you just miss me?"

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly in return, a shadow of a half-smirk ghosting over his lips for a second, but then he started leading her down the hallway with a serious expression. "I have a favour to ask of you."

Robin's eyebrows rose in an instant, and she looked up at Snape again instead of where she was walking. "Do go on."

"I need you to take over the second year potions class that I am supposed to be teaching right now." He said in an instant, as if glad to get the request out at all, but after a moment of silence, doubt obviously made him continue. "If you are in your right mind, you will straight out decline any participation in this and-..."

"I'll do it." Robin cut in with a small smile that threatened to grow into a smirk. When he gave her a surprised glance, she added, "Have I ever been in my right mind?"

"Probably not." He mused, and finally the doubt faded from his face to be replaced by subtle relief. "Thank you."

"Anytime." She smiled, then quirked an eyebrow at him as they made their way towards the stairs to the dungeons. "Might I ask though, why do you need me to watch over your class?"

"Because I need to teach Morgan's seventh years." He sighed, obviously discontent with the fact. "Morgan reported that he was feeling ill after lunch, and Professor Dumbledore asked me to take over the class in respect to the impending final examinations. That, however, leaves my own class unattended, which I strongly disfavour for the very same reason. Even second year students should be well prepared for their exams."

"And why would you ask me, out of all people, to teach a class? Don't get me wrong, I'm honoured… But why choose the one person who has close to no experience with this thing, while there's a bunch of competent professors at this school?"

"They are not competent." He said, but when Robin gave him a look, he rolled his eyes and added, "They are competent in their subjects, not in ours."

"Alright, so you picked me because I'm good at potions. Better someone who knows the subject and nothing about teaching than someone who knows teaching but nothing about the subject. I get that. But what if I'm horrible at both?"

"Keep in mind that they made Morgan a professor. I think you should reevaluate your perception of what it takes to teach a class around here."

Robin let out a snort at the comment, shaking her head, and she did indeed feel more comfortable with the circumstances in an instant. If bloody Morgan could do this, she could too.

"I can only hope I won't screw this up." She finally sighed when they reached the crossing where they would need to part ways. "But I'll do my best to fill in for you. Even if the gap is quite a bit too large for me."

"Thank you." He was quick to reply, but then paused for a second. "You will be perfectly fine; the gap isn't nearly as large as you believe it to be. In any case, you can always scowl and have them write an essay should you find yourself uncertain what to do next. Works every time."

"I'll remember that." Robin huffed with a small smile, and only when Snape moved on to his own class, she remembered to ask the important questions. "What am I supposed to teach them anyway?"

"Revision of the term, ideally." He replied over his shoulder, and Robin couldn't help wishing he wouldn't go. "But try to remember that they aren't you. Lower your expectations, or teach the students to meet them."

With that he was gone, rushing up the spiral staircase while Robin made her way down. Oh God… had she actually agreed to teach a freaking potions class?! Second years, admittedly, but still! What was she supposed to do, make an entrance like Snape and scare the hell out of them? Actually… no no no, she couldn't do that. Fuck. She should just try to do the same thing she always did when tutoring Cas and Jorien, that had always worked just fine. Even with up to twenty people at once! Wasn't much of a difference to an entire class, was it? Only that they were actually going to expect her to teach them something, not just help with revision. But then again, it was supposed to be revision after all. Breathe, Robin… She could almost hear Snape's voice in her head by now, as often as he had said that to her over the last few weeks when she started panicking over exams. And breathing she did indeed, as she stood in front of the door to the classroom. She could do this. It was potions, she loved potions. She knew potions. It would be alright.

With a perfect calm neutrality she opened the door, and made her way towards the front without a hint of doubt shining through. At least she finally got the desk she's always been meaning to trade for.

… … …

A little more than an hour and a half later, Robin was surprised to find that everything had been alright indeed. Nothing had exploded, nothing had been damaged, and everyone had come out alive and a little smarter than before. She had done a revision of the entire school year with them like she was supposed to, and surprisingly enough, the students had actually been more than willing to accept her as their teacher for the day. A good mixture of calm politeness and menacing scowls had kept everyone in line without making them despise her, which was as good an outcome as Robin could've hoped for. And perhaps some of them had actually learned from her explanations and little tricks after all.

It was only when the students started leaving the classroom that she allowed herself to feel out of place again, being the teacher, and sitting on the edge of Snape's desk like that. He surely wouldn't approve of such a thing, but for some reason Robin was intrigued to find out what he would do about it. Unfortunately, she wouldn't get to. Just when the last student had left the classroom, someone else came in instead.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Robin jumped off the desk immediately when the headmaster came sauntering through the aisle between the students' rows. "I, uh… Sorry, I didn't… What brings you down here? I mean, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Good afternoon, Miss Mitchell." He bowed his head ever so slightly with that small smile of his. "Actually, I-..."

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Robin looked at Dumbledore almost expectantly, uncertain what to do or how to react, but he merely mentioned for her to go ahead before retreating to a shadowy corner of the room, picking up and studying a few jars in well feigned interest.

"Come in." Robin thus called out, feeling like an idiot to do so when there was an actual authority figure in the same room, but Dumbledore's wordless prompt for her to see to whatever was the issue had been clear enough.

"Sorry… if I'm interrupting." A small voice spoke from the door, and a second later one of the girls who had been part of the class just moments before reluctantly came back into the room. "I… uh, I was just wondering if perhaps… you had a minute?"

Oh god. Robin's mind raced with a million questions in return. She wasn't supposed to be a replacement for Snape! Well she was, in a way, but just for the revision part of the class! But as long as he wasn't here, she might as well fill in as good as she could for this as well.

"Wouldn't you like to speak to… Professor Snape about whatever the issue is instead? He should return soon, you can wait here if you wish." She asked, but the girl shook her head vehemently in return.

"No, I mean... do you… uh, have time for me perhaps? Before he returns?" The girl asked again, barely loud enough to be heard, and Robin did her best not to display any of the unease she felt. This wasn't her place… but she wasn't one to let people down who asked for her help.

"Certainly I have, if it really is me you wish to talk to." She finally replied with a calm little smile, much like the one Dumbledore had shown her seconds before. Sometimes inspiration was drawn from the most desperate of places. With a certain glance at the young girl who only nodded, Robin motioned to the chair in front of the desk. "Come sit down then. I don't bite."

The girl quickly scurried to the place she was pointed to, then looked up at Robin who sat down on the edge of the desk again like it was the only suitable place for her to claim. Really, she wouldn't dare to take a seat on the other side of the desk. She didn't want to give off the impression that she actually had anything to say around here.

"What can I help you with?" She prompted when the girl still wouldn't speak up after a while of quiet observation. Bloody hell, this felt odd… she wasn't supposed to be in this position.

"Well, I… uh, I noticed that you are… explaining things differently than Professor Snape, and you know so much, and I… I'm just horrible at potions!" The girl broke into tears so suddenly that Robin had a hard time keeping up with the sudden shift. "I always feel like I don't understand anything at all, and everyone else got what you explained today so well and I just… I didn't understand at all! I will fail my exam for sure! I just… I don't even understand why I have to learn all this nonsense! All those stupid little details… Why is that even important for anything?!"

While the girl kept sobbing relentlessly even after her rant, Robin honestly just felt lost in return. For a moment she was frozen, then she frowned, and finally she simply felt helpless. What was she supposed to do now?! What's one supposed to do with crying children? Bloody hell...

"I am certain the situation isn't half as bad as you make it out to be." She started, trying to use her most comforting voice, but the girl just kept on crying and crying as if she had been holding off just to unleash it all on Robin now. Oh geez… what was a professor to do in a situation like that? Use their brains. So Robin did. "Hey, look at me for a moment, yes?"

The girl did look up indeed, which was something at least, and Robin grabbed the first object on the desk she could get a hold of (which happened to be a burning candle), then held it out in front of her. "You know this spell?" She asked, while at the same time turning the candle into a drinking glass.

"Yes…" The girl sniffled, looking first at the glass and then at Robin. Without hesitation, Robin handed the object to her.

"How about this one?" She asked again, and this time she filled the glass with water to the brim.

"No…" The girl replied in a quiet voice, and while the water didn't spill over the edges of the glass, tears kept spilling over in her cheeks nonetheless. She looked at the glass in confusion for a moment, then back at Robin.

"Drink it." Robin ordered calmly, keeping her eyes on the girl who frowned a little at the odd request, but obliged without protest. Half a minute later, the glass was empty and Robin took it from her to set it aside. By now the girl had stopped crying and merely looked a little confused, but by far not as devastated anymore. So far so good. "Do you feel better?"

The girl nodded quietly, so Robin went on.

"See, you knew the charm to transform the candle into a glass, yes? It is a very basic spell, one of the fundamentals of transfiguration, you could say. The second spell I used served to fill the glass with water. You didn't know that one, but I can assure you that you will learn it sooner or later. But now imagine… What would you do if you knew how to conjure water first, but nobody had ever taught you how to get yourself a glass? Would be awfully hard to drink, wouldn't you say?"

Again, the girl nodded, and she even smiled a little at the image Robin was painting with her words.

"So we need the basic spell first, to make any use of the more advanced ones after that. Because without the basics, the difficult things wouldn't be of any value to us. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"

"I think so… It's important to know the basics, because you need a ground and matter to build on and work with."

"Exactly!" Robin offered her a small smile, even if it was feigned. "And it is exactly the same with potions. You need the basics and the details first, if you want to understand the complex structures later on."

"I can see that, I guess…"

"Good!" Robin sighed under her breath. "Now, did I understand you correctly that you're afraid of the exam for this class?"

"Yeah... I've been having problems in potions for a while now. I just don't understand how things work together and how they relate to each other. And you obviously are great at it, so I just… wanted to ask for help, I guess. Or even just some advice."

"If you have problems in a subject, you shouldn't hesitate to talk to the professor as soon as possible. Not just two weeks before the exams." Robin replied, but tried to keep the accusation out of her tone at least, if it was already so very present in her words. Calling out wrong behavior probably wouldn't help right now.

"I know…" The girl peered down at her hands in her lap, picking at the edge of her skirt while effectively avoiding Robin's eye. "But I was too scared to say anything, before now. I just… I thought I would only get yelled at anyway."

Again, Robin wanted to sigh. Somehow, she always ended up stuck between what people believed about Snape and what he wanted them to believe. There was fairly little she could do in between those two, without disregarding the reality of either. "I understand. And I won't tell you to talk to anyone you feel afraid of, even if I probably should. But I will say, out of my own experience and sincere belief, that people sometimes will surprise you if only you give them the chance to."

"Really?"

"Yes. No matter what you believe to know about someone, you must always leave open the possibility for them to change your mind. Nobody likes being trapped inside a box not made for them."

"You mean people should stop categorising?"

"No. Categorising is important for us to function in a world of such complexity. It would completely overwhelm us if we didn't categorise. What I'm saying is that you should keep in mind that you never know all there is to someone, that the picture you have of them isn't necessarily who they really are. And that when you put the world into boxes in your mind, you should always leave the lid open."

"I've never thought about it like that… but I guess you're right. Thank you." The girl gave Robin a timid smile in return. "I will try to talk to Professor Snape tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps he can help me find a point to start catching up with the class."

"Make that tomorrow morning and you might actually find him in a good mood." Robin said before she could help it, and upon the girl's confused face, she added, "When you've known someone for a while, you also know the best time to talk to them about certain things. Tomorrow morning, yes?"

"Yes! Definitely!" The girl nodded and rose to her feet with more energy than anyone should have at this point. "Thank you, professor!" With that she grabbed her back and skipped down the aisle towards the door, where she disappeared and was gone two seconds later. Only then Robin's mind snapped out of it, and she frowned to herself for a moment. Had the girl actually called her 'professor'? Robin shook her head at the odd encounter and turned the glass back into a candle before she would forget about it.

"That was quite impressive, if you allow me that one remark." Dumbledore's voice startled Robin enough to make her jump off the desk once more, heart jumping into action equally while a rush of adrenaline spread in her veins. Bloody hell… she had completely forgotten about him. And honestly, Dumbledore was remarkably good at making himself practically invisible. Perhaps actually indivisible, who knew.

"I wouldn't call it impressive. Self-defense would be more like it." Robin replied sincerely, while trying to keep up her facades nonetheless. There was no use trying to fool Dumbledore, but she wouldn't make it easy for him to see through her either. "I really just wanted her to stop crying. It made me uncomfortable."

"Still, your advice was remarkable, even if perhaps a little difficult for a child to fully understand. Say, what did you put into that water?"

"Nothing." She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's something my parents did with me when I was little. Just give a crying child a glass of water and they will stop crying to drink it. That means they will stop crying for crying's sake, and a great majority of children's problems will already be solved at that point. At the very least, it'll be easier to have a calm conversation from there on."

"Interesting. After long years of teaching at this school, I still find myself learning something new about human behavior every day. Even if by now, I believe to have quite a bit of insight into the… mind of the common person."

"I don't. I mean, I'm not good with people, neither with children nor adults. Remembering little tricks like that, or making use of logic and knowledge to manipulate someone for their own good… Some people might call that insensitive or rude, but it really only is a means to function like any other." She said, as the question about Dumbledore's presence here came back to her mind. "Anyway, I think the girl will be fine if she actually takes the advice about keeping an open mind. But what was it you wanted to say, before we were interrupted in the first place?"

"I meant to say that I came here looking for Severus." Dumbledore smiled, and finally sauntered out of the dark corner he had been dwelling in. "I believe he might be in the possession of a book I would like to borrow for a few days."

"May I ask which one?" Robin inquired, curiosity winning over reason and definitely over manners as well. "I've read all of them at this point, so I'll probably be able to tell you if what you're looking for is part of his collection."

"Of course you have…" Dumbledore's smile turned into a sincere one, and Robin couldn't help wondering why he seemed to be so very amused by what she'd said. "The book I am looking for is a collection of spells about literature and literary mediums. You see, I unfortunately made the mistake of leaving a book of great value too close to Fawkes when it was time for him to burn… You certainly can imagine the outcome."

Robin eyebrows rose in surprise at first, then she had to smile at the coincidence, and finally her brows furrowed into a frown. There was no such thing as a coincidence when it came to the headmaster. And even if that story was true, a great wizard like him surely didn't need a random book about literature spells to help him out. Curious…

"I believe I can help you with that. As it happens to be, I'm in the possession of the very book you are looking for as well. That might spare you plenty of waiting time." She said anyway, putting on her own calm neutrality once again as she turned to summon her copy of the book out of her bag. Then she skipped down the two steps in front of the desk and approached Dumbledore, handing it to him with a smile that mirrored his own. "Well, actually I was the first to have the book, but then I gifted him a copy as well… Anyway, you might find something suitable on page 46… or perhaps it was page 64, it's been a while since I've read it."

Dumbledore accepted the book with a small bow of the head, and a peculiar glance at Robin that to her was more unsettling than reassuring. "Thank you, Miss Mitchell. I will be sure to return it to you before the end of term."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Sir. I know where another copy is, should I need it."

"Of course you do…"

Somehow Robin found herself annoyed by the many times he said that, by the way he said it even more, but she didn't let it on. Instead she merely held his gaze, unfaltering and steady even though it was still so very unsettling. Deeply inquiring and invasive even, while yet hidden behind the calmest contentment and innocence. He was so much more difficult to read than Snape was. For Robin, at least, but she knew that it was an unfair comparison to make from her perspective. She was as biased as she could be.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?" She finally asked, after what seemed like hours of silence.

"Not that I am aware of. Thank you for the book." He mused with a knowing smile, then turned around to leave. As soon as the door fell into its lock behind him, Robin let out a long breath and returned to the desk in a slow saunter. What an odd encounter. Another odd encounter.

When she took her perch on the edge of the desk again, putting the books she had used during the class back into their place, she finally realized what had bothered her about the entire thing. Dumbledore had been the one to tell Snape to take over Morgan's class, and therefore he must've known that he wouldn't find him down here. That means he had either come here to wait for Snape, which was highly unlikely, or he had meant to seek out Robin in the first place. In which case he must have known that she possessed the particular spellbook as well. And he haid lied to her without her noticing even in the lightest. But… why on earth would he do any of that?

______________________________

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[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Five: The One with the Tour

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2476

    Scott Harvey was a manipulative man. He knew how to get what he wanted when he wanted and was never one to take no for an answer. He'd do whatever it took to ensure he had people wrapped around his finger so that he could snap his fingers and have what he desired in his hands at a moment’s notice. And Lily fell for that. She became the next in a long line of women who were eating out of the palm of his hand, all because he promised her the world. He promised her security, happiness, and peace. Instead, she got fear, chaos, and emotional trauma. The exact thing she was terrified of. He used her anxiety against her, used the fragility of her mind to keep her trapped in his web like a fly.

She was sort of thankful for Mary. she was a sweet woman, the two got along and were pretty amicable. Lily knew if she needed anything, Mary would help out, and vice versa. Because you can have a messy marriage, but keep a healthy relationship with the wrecking ball that destroyed the thin wall that still stood. Lily was grateful for Mary because she was able to open the blonde’s eyes to see what was going on. The web of lies that Scott had caught Lily in, like a spider, finding its next meal.

And every time she saw him, saw that sideways smile and forehead creases, all of the emotions he caused caught up to Lily in a ball, and took up camp in the middle of her throat, rendering her speechless for the majority of their brief conversations. Which is where we pick up, in the hallway of Scott and Mary's apartment building, Scott holding his daughter, Leila, in his arms. something Lily didn't believe she had ever seen her ex do with their son.

"Traffic was insane...sorry I'm a little late." Lily mumbled, her broken eyes darting everywhere, in an attempt to keep them from making contact with the deep-set hazel of Scott’s iris'.

"Don't apologize. I'll never complain about spending a bit longer with Hunter." Scott said, his voice still as soft as a marshmallow. Lily couldn't help but wince ever so gently as it floated into her ears, sending a rush of adrenaline and nerves to her heart, picking up its pace.

"Mom!" a young boy’s voice called before bursting past the older man, almost knocking down his mother, gripping onto her waist.

"Hey kiddo," Lily smiled, hand running through the blonde locks atop of her son’s head, smiling gently as he hid his face into her side. turning her attention back to Scott, she gave a weak smile, "Thanks for letting me pick him up early. my parents are coming down for dinner."

“No problem. Say hi to Abel and Alicia for me," Scott smiled, causing a shiver to run down Lily's spine. The idea of saying that Scott said hi made Lily sick to her stomach. Her parents despised the father of their grandson, for good reason. As far as the Osborne parents were concerned, Scott was a dead man, "See ya, buddy."

Saying a quick goodbye, Lily and Hunter found themselves back in the car as quickly as the conversation that just happened. Hunter was quiet at first, waiting for Lily to regain her composure for the second time that day. Her forehead rested on the leather of her steering wheel, deep breaths escaping her lips as her fingers wrapped around the wheel. A few moments later, Lily relaxed back into her seat, turning on the car.

"So Grandma and Grandpa are coming over?" Hunter asked, breaking the comfortable silence the mother and son had going on, "When did you find out?"

Lily tried her best to repress the smile the threatened to explode onto her face. She loved giving Hunter surprises. With everything the boy has been through, being able to see his face light up when he's faced with something unexpected was the only high she'd ever need. It was rare to see such extreme emotion out of Hunter, and let alone something as raw as the joy he gets with surprises. And this one that she had planned, it would go down in history. He would be talking about it for ages to come, for the rest of his life even. That's what Lily wanted, for him to create perfect childhood memories he'd be able to tell his kids in the future. To gather them up around the table at Christmas and pass stories around about how he and Grandma spent a day with Earth’s mightiest heroes and got to see where they worked. That was the goal of a parent, to make their child's days as memorable as they could.

"Oh the other day they mentioned it, but nothing was ever confirmed. I got a text this morning from Grandma about it," Lily hummed nonchalantly as she pulled out of the Brooklyn apartment complex, and turned onto the busy roads.

Connecting his phone to the Apple car play that came with the vehicle, Hunter spoke again, "That'll be nice. I know you miss seeing them sometimes. Long Island is so far away from Manhattan, why did you move away?"

Lily's smile grew wide, the dimple in her cheek creating a cavern of happiness at her son’s words. He was as intuitive as they come, and as observant as all get out. Truly, Lily believed herself to be one of the luckiest mothers in the world to be blessed with an angel-like Hunter. He was pure of heart and as sharp as a whip. He always picked up on Lily's microaggressions, and all of the small mannerisms she showed while in certain moods. She was never sure how he became as smart as he did, but doctors insisted it was because of her intelligence. That it carried on down to her son, and how he reflected her as a child. And Lily lived a loving and wonderful childhood, so hopefully, that too would relay to her son.

Reaching over to ruffle his hair, Lily let out a gentle sigh, "Well Hunter, I moved out here to the city with Auntie Gen when I graduated high school. I got into Columbia University, which was my dream school. So I came out here to study, while Aunt Gen was over in NYU, studying business. I moved out here for the opportunity, and I'm glad I did because you were the result."

Hunter let out a small noise as he acknowledged the story that his mother just shared while scanning Spotify for the best playlist. The two loved the eighties and nineties, so he settled on a premade group of songs from that era. The bass boomed throughout the car as the two began to belt out the lyrics to Billie Jean by Michael Jackson. It was moments like these when Lily felt most content. Just her and Hunter, living their best lives together as they sang to oldies but goodies. Being able to see his eyes light up whenever they passed a cool-looking building or when they saw a cute dog or one that looked like Joey. Her favourite moment though, the cream of the crop is when he sings. Though not a professional, he always looked so at ease while letting his voice dance through the car.

About twenty minutes into the drive, he caught on though, "This isn't the way home. Where are we going?" his voice rang, turning down the volume of the Lionel Richie.

She had to think quickly. If he noticed the slightest of hesitation in Lily's speech, the surprise would be blown, and he wouldn't be surprised when they didn't stop at home. So, she did what she thought would throw him off the most, "We've gotta hit a grocery store on the way home. Aunt Gen needs something for the cafe and this is the only place that sells it near here. Is that okay kiddo?"

Nodding, he turned the music back up. This meant that he believed what she said. If he didn't, he'd press on further. Interrogating Lily until he got the truth out of her. He would make a hell of a lawyer in the future, due to the strange ability he had of getting into people’s minds. He was like Scott in that way, but different at the same time. He never used it to manipulate, or use people, but to find out the truth. Get the answers. learn. That was Hunter’s goal, not to make people the puppets in his little game. he was curious, that was all.

Shortly after the small conversation between the two introverts, Lily took the turn that would lead them straight to the compound. Her aged eyes glanced towards the world that sat in her passenger seat. He hadn't noticed yet, and Lily was thankful. It would be more exhilarating if he didn't realize until they went up to the door. Knocking on the door and having someone like Captain America answer? Now that was something that Lily would love to witness. To see her son's heart swell at the sight of one of his heroes answering the door. She could only imagine what he would say, and couldn't seem to fathom how he would react.

Pulling into the parking lot, Lily stopped the car and turned it off, capturing Hunters’ attention. He sat up in his seat and glanced out the window, a confused yet intrigued look masking his typical stoic facial expression. Stepping out of the car, Lily gestured with her left hand to follow her up towards the doors. Hesitantly, Hunter followed along, his shoes making gentle noises on the rocks and pebbles below his feet.

"Where are we?" he questioned, hand slipping into the fragile one of his mothers, "and why are your hands always so cold?"

Lily remained silent, simply walking up the stairs of the compound. Her neck craned to look down at the bewildered boy, who couldn't help but swivel his head around in an attempt to recognize his surroundings. But the only time he would have ever seen this place was maybe in pictures, so Lily was sure that she had gotten the surprise in the bag. That she was able to dupe the boy that could rarely ever be surprised. Now that would be an accomplishment.

Lily's free hand reached up and knocked on the grey doors in front of them, pursing and nibbling on her lips in an attempt to hide the mischievous and prideful grin that threatened to give away the present. She had been looking forward to this moment the entire car ride, hardly being able to contain the excitement that rushed through her veins at the idea of her son’s wildest dreams coming true. Well, his wildest dream would be to become an Avenger or any sort of superhero. But a mother could only do so much.

Voices rang out behind the door before it was swung open to reveal Sam Wilson. The man who had originally offered to take the eleven-year-old boy on a tour of the place, "Lily! you made it, was starting to get worried you two would bail on us," he teased, chocolate brown eyes readjusting to look down at the blonde boy beside Lily, "Hey Hunter, nice to see you again."

Her son’s hand had slipped out of her own, which caught Lily's attention. she looked down at him and felt her heart swell about a million times bigger than it already was. His smile reached ear to ear, cheeks growing to a rosy red and his pupils dilated to eleven. He seemed frozen, stuck to his one position on the porch step of the Avengers compound. Her frail hand tapped the boy on the back, urging him to respond and walk into the building.

"He's a tad awestruck it seems," Lily chuckled, taking his small hand into her own and walking past the threshold of the home, "It took me a bit to find this place."

"Privacy is key for us," a voice rang out from a bit away. Lily's eyes averted towards the sound and she spotted Captain America. The Captain America. Steve Rogers. Every girl’s dream man. He was even more gorgeous in person, and Lily couldn't help but feel choked up as she looked at him. The way his chest looked as though it was going to burst through the fabric of his shirt, or how she could see his sky blue eyes from eight meters away, "Glad you guys could make it. Picked a perfect day, everyone’s around."

"Why don't I take Hunter down through the compound so he can get the full tour," Sam grinned down at the beaming boy, "Will you be joining us, Ms. Osborne?"

Oh no. If she went, her mind wouldn't be able to handle it. The idea of walking around with her son in a place like this was already overwhelming. Feeling as though she should be able to do more to give him the luxury life he so badly deserved. Making him feel as though he was the king of the world. Not to mention, the entire place itself was a lot to take in. And with her anxiety already running high today, it would be better for Lily's mind and heart to wait out in the car or something. Plus, Hunter was with the Falcon, she had no worries.

"It's okay, you two go have fun, I'll wait in the car," Lily said, a tight smile pulling at the sides of her lips as she ran a thumb across her son’s chin, nodding for him to follow the superhero. And as if he was in a trance, Hunter followed Sam like a zombie, or may a dog following a treat. Either would work in this scenario.

"Oh no don't go wait in your car, come sit with us. I'm sure Bucky wouldn't mind seeing you again after your run-in yesterday," Steve smiled, making Lily's knees feel like they had miraculously turned into jello, "He's making blueberry pancakes for a part of the team."

Lily's mouth ran dry. Blueberry pancakes. Just like the ones she had gotten the day prior. The ones he had asked her about. Her cheeks grew hot as a magenta colour blush forced itself onto them, giving away the embarrassment and intrigue she had. It couldn't have been anything. He was just making blueberry pancakes. That's normal. It was an average thing for people to do. Especially when you've got nothing else to do. right?

"He knew you may have been coming, that's why he made them." Steve whispered as he offered his arm for Lily, beginning to lead her towards the kitchen.

So he did make them on purpose.

[enternalempires]

Those Eyes

This is a Ladynoir/Adrienette fic. It has switched Miraculous and a reveal and Marinette purring, lol. Lots of fluff. Hope you enjoy! Haven’t figured out how to use links yet but my Ao3 username is the same!

We all know that Plagg with Marinette would be chaotic as all hell, like she’d mention a very very bad course of action that would have us all going ‘second-hand embarrassment, no!!’ but that sarcastic little shit of a Kwami would be like, “Yes!! Do it!!!” because like, after eons of being alive and literally killing the dinos off along with various other disasters you just learn to not care anymore. And Adrien with Tikki would be chaotic in a different way. They’d be so?? Productive??? Like, they’d agree on so much and just vibe that it would be pure sunshine magic. Like, there’s a reason why they got the humans that they did.

Marinette shrieked, scrambling past a car that was picked up and thrown in her direction— successfully dodging any debris and sharp objects left over from the Akumas wake.

At eighteen years old, she knew better than to take off her earrings.

She knew she shouldn’t have, even if it was Adrien Agreste who asked her to change them out, promising with his life (as she made him do) that they would be safe in his bag. She knew that having a photo shoot with him and she in her original MDC designs shouldn’t have made her heart flutter but it did.

They were modeling together.

God, if the fifteen-year-old her could’ve predicted this, she would’ve melted in her spot.

But she didn’t.

And she also didn’t predict that Hawkmoth would choose absolutely the worst time to put an Akuma out into the streets of Paris, but she wasn’t surprised. Her luck as Ladybug never passed over into her life as Marinette— ruler of clumsiness and bad decisions.

Marinette knew she needed to get back to Tikki, she needed to find her earrings and quickly put them on.

She just didn’t expect to find the car that Adrien’s bag had been in to be completely destroyed with its contents spewed around the street.

Oh, she was screwed.

“Tikki,” She hissed, getting onto her knees and ignoring the glass that stuck into her palms as she shifted through all the now unrecognizable car’s contents. “Tikki, where are you?”

“Oh, this is golden,” A voice cackled from behind her and Marinette whipped around— coming face to face with a tiny black Kwami with glowing green eyes and a long tail. She blinked once, twice, and then noticed the bright silver, almost white ring he was carrying. “You’re Sugercube’s babybug, huh? Oh, loverboy is going to get a kick out of this.”

She gaped, unsure about how to continue.

“Do you have cheese?” He asked, scowling when she shook her head. “Great. What use are you then?”

“Uh…”

This was Chat Noir’s Kwami?

He seemed… completely opposite of Tikki.

“Well, aren’t you going to torture me now?” He asked, floating up to her face— his sardonic tone deepening as he lazily landed in Marinette’s palms as soon as she offered them up to him. “I’m Plagg, by the way. Why did you take the earrings off?”

“Urm, I’m Marinette and Tikki didn’t want me to but I kinda… I had this photoshoot thing that I had to switch them out for. So I did.”

“Oo! A rule breaker! I like you. My human is a goodie-goodie, unless it comes to you. He’s so in love that it’s revolting.”

“Not good at the emotional stuff, huh?”

“Nah, cheese is my love.”

“Oh,” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Not the tiny goddess that calls you Stinky Socks?”

Giving her an eyeroll, Plagg huffed out, “Can you just say ‘claws out’ already?”

“Is there anything I need to know regarding Chat’s powers?”

“Be careful when you’re jumping around and moving, it’ll look a bit different than usual and you’ll be faster.” His voice was so bored that she couldn’t help but to giggle. “I’m awesome, so you’ll also be able to hear a lot better and see in the dark. Also, people will smell.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette blinked. “Smell?”

“Yep.” The black cat yawned exaggeratingly. “Loverboy says you smell good or whatever. Also, don’t ruin everything.”

For whatever reason, that made her cheeks flush and Plagg laughed, his cackle creating goosebumps to go over her skin.

He felt powerful— like destruction and death and sadness. He felt like he could destroy the whole world, like he could send it into a proverbial darkness, and Marinette was reminded of Paris drowned in water, and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

It was terrifying.

Plagg was terrifying.

Tikki felt light, like home.

Like life and warmth and creation and happiness. Her power was intimidating, it was skin-tight and heavy and weighed down her shoulders with a burden she never wanted but bore anyways.

Marinette wondered how his magic would feel after she transformed and looked around. The destruction still damaged around her, but she was hidden by three toppled over cars and couldn't see anyone through the cracks.

“Plagg,” She slipped the ring onto her middle finger, watching as it turned smaller and shone in a soft sky blue color. “Claws out!”

The power that overwhelmed her made her feel unbalanced, her head swarming like she was twenty feet underwater, the pressure pounding around her in all directions.

Being Ladybug felt suffocating sometimes. It felt like responsibility and trauma walked beside her every day.

But wearing the Black Cat Miraculous?

That felt like drowning.

Like devastation was clinging to her.

How did her kitty deal with this? With feeling demolition wreck havoc through his veins on an almost daily basis?

Ladybug— or well, she couldn’t be ladybug anymore— sucked in a harsh breath and looked around. The world was just… in ruins around her but it was more vivid than anything she experienced. The sun shone on everything brighter, the shadows almost nonexistent and the details— god, she was starting to see why Chat stared so much.

Taking her baton into her hands, the young heroine saw that the silver was the same color that the ring had turned into, a soft sky blue, and noted that in the light it glowed with an azure flicker.

Strange.

Turning around with a flinch as a loud boom followed by multiple screams rang throughout the street, the heroine had full intention to join in on the chaos and to hopefully find Chat— until she caught sight of herself in an upside-down car’s windshield.

She stood there gaping.

Unsure.

What the…

She wasn’t really sure what to expect, maybe an exact replica of Chat’s outfit, maybe her outfit as Ladybug but cat-themed but not… not this.

Her eyes were the same color but brighter, the iris having a deep blue ridge to them and the white part of her eyes were a slightly lighter shade. And her pupils— her pupils are slitted!

Wait.

Does that, does that mean that… that Chat’s eyes are normal now?

Ignoring that thought, she looked at the rest of her.

The suit was still the same black leather that her partner wore but with an azure shine to it. Around her neck, there was a dark blue bow with three loops made out of what seemed to be a soft and a baby blue bell in the middle.

Around her waist was the same blue ribbon that wrapped around her twice and then swished around her hips and extended towards her ankles in her ‘tail’.

Tail.

She had a tail.

Her eyes flew back up to her hair and her hands instantly shot up to her ears— leather ears exactly like Chat’s but they had light blue tips. They flicked and she felt it. She grabbed them with her hands and she squeaked.

How does he live like this?!

Instead of her pigtails, her hair was down to her shoulders with two thin ribbons going down to her shoulders. Her bangs were still present but the little hairs that used to frame her face on either side of her head and in front of her ears were now three curved whisks of hair that almost made her think they were supposed to resemble whiskers.

Her hands had claws, her wrists had ribbons and a small bow on them, as did her ankles— and her feet were shaped into paws!

Hopping on one foot, she saw the ‘toe beans’ on the bottom of her sole and squeaked rather loudly again.

She was a cat— a cat!

Her panicking came to an end when the car she was looking at herself was suddenly picked up and— thrown at her.

She heard it moving before she saw it, her ears perking up and dragging forward, her body leaping out of the way as the tension in her body raised. She sensed it coming towards her, somehow being able to feel the immediate area around her— she couldn’t stop observing it all.

Oh. Oh. It all makes sense now.

How Chat was always able to see the Akuma or any objects that were about to hit her before she did.

That and she could get so stuck in her head so much that it could be problematic.

Like now, for example.

The Akuma— a giant doll version of Reflekdoll, poor Juleka probably got akumatized again— was throwing things at her and, well, she tried her best to dodge, using her baton and newfound speed and agility to avoid being dangerously squished.

Unfortunately, she was rather clumsy with her new suit and powers.

She tried to listen to what Plagg had said, to be careful, and to be slower but she couldn’t. She never got hit by cars or building debris or the giant doll's hands but she flinched at her roars of rage and collided with building edges or other things she underestimated her own ability to stop with.

It would be so much easier if she had her yoyo or her wings to help guide her.

Where was her Chaton when she needed him?

Across town in a shady alleyway, Adrien Agreste was smiling brightly at the tiny red and black Kwami who was giving him a soft smile of her own— blue, almost purple eyes twinkling.

“I can tell why my babybug likes you so much,” Tikki said, having found and calmly explained the situation to the blond who she found calling out for Plagg mere minutes before. “You’re very polite and sweet, Stink Socks probably complains so much!”

“Thanks,” Adrien flushed slightly, wondering if he heard the miniature goddess correctly when she said that her Babybug, Ladybug by omission, liked him. “He’s not too bad as long as I give him enough camembert.

“Him and his cheese,” Tikki rolled her eyes before focusing them back on him, her smile turning encouraging. “I’m sure Plagg has found M— Ladybug by now. All you have to do is say ‘spots on’. I’m positive you’ll be able to handle it, Adrien! You’ve proven to be an amazing Chat Noir, I’m sure you’ll be an amazing Ladybug as well!”

“You’re… nothing like Plagg.”

“I know,” The Kwami giggles and strangely enough it reminds him of his lady’s giggles— that is until a loud shattering boom went through the air and shook the ground around them and a flash of black and blue went past the alley. “Ready?”

“Not really, but I’ll do my best!” Adrien gave a nervous chuckle and then took the earrings into his palms, then turning a darker sheen of red then what the black glowed with originally and the part of them that would go into the holes turned into cuffs.

When he put them on, he tugged, delighted in the way they were tight enough to never fall off unless physically torn from his ears.

“Alright, Tikki, spots on!”

Adrien didn’t expect the warmth that encased him.

Usually, the magic that he got from Plagg felt cold and secure, like a protective darkness hiding him from the loneliness, giving him the freedom to run through the night without fear of the isolation waiting for him at home.

Tikki’s magic felt heavy, like burning alive— and suddenly he understood the burden that had been placed onto his lady’s shoulders and the strictness in her eyes.

There was no room for mistakes.

The world was in her palms, she had become Atlas at thirteen and never complained once. She had taken up the mantle with wariness and a proud stance and she held it so tightly that she never dropped it once.

He sucked in a breath, almost doubling over with the weight of it all.

Ladybug— for five years— felt this unyielding responsibility? She did this and put up with him, him who teased and goofed around and made mistakes? Him who had admittedly gotten better over time but still flirts and is playful on the field?

How did she deal with that?!

Fortunately, he didn’t have to think long about that being a giant doll stopped at the edge of the alleyway, turned to him as he shuffled back and roared.

He saw his own reflection in the shiny face— a maroon suit with black details and a black mask, his hair the same mess, and the yoyo around his waist. Thick wings were on his back, he could feel them twitch and scuffle as they opened in surprise. Ladybug had wings, he didn’t know why he expected not to.

His eyes were wide and so normal that it took him a second too long to realize they were coming closer.

Because the doll was moving closer, making his reflection do the same.

Why couldn’t he sense it?

Why did everything look so… so familiar? No extra sight, no extra hearing. How did Ladybug do this— how could she fight while being so normal?

God, he always had a lot of respect for her but now he has even more.

Shooting into the air, the yoyo automatically swung in his hand as he used it to volt himself into the sky, having seen his lady do so so many times it was almost second nature. Once he got over the doll, she shrieked in agitation— looking like Reflekdoll— and moved her clanky, large body to try and grab him.

Chat, however, if he could even call himself that anymore, opened his wings with some experimentation and flapped them a couple of times, not expecting the power they held and went so far into the sky that the sight could rival their rendezvous point on the Eiffel tower.

He tried to drift right but ended up volting upside down and catching a large gust of wind that sent him backward, wings snapping painfully straight.

The hero yelped and desperately, yet futility, clawed at the air.

Where was his lady when he needed her?

The young heroine was just thinking she got the hang of how to run across the rooftops with her accelerated speed— having failed and either trip or face-planted into a chimney here or there— but a masculine yelp came from above her and she looked up just in time to see the panicked face of her partner before the deep red-suited boy with long wings crashed into her.

They went flying, both rolling as their bodies tangled together, the cold tiles of the roof underneath them not hurting but definitely not pleasant as they came to a stop a couple of seconds after.

She groaned, feeling his familiar and hard body underneath hers.

She wanted him to be there with her, of course, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to tackle her after being airborne.

“Chat,” She struggles to detangle her arms from around him, his wings crowding them more than the usual present-battle entanglement. She was grateful though for this moment, he was warm and soothing and Tikki’s magic felt like a breath of fresh air. “Why would you—”

Why would you try to fly?

She was going to ask, seeing as that’s most likely how he literally fell out of the sky and onto her but then, then something horrifying happened.

She started to purr.

“Eek!” She shot up, arms painfully pulling out of their spot as she desperately tried to crawl away from her partner. “No, no, no, no—”

“Milady,” Chat’s teasing voice froze her but, unfortunately, made the purring all the much louder and she snapped her eyes up to meet his startlingly normal eyes. “Are you doing that because of me?”

“N-no! No, of course not, that would be, that would be, uh—”

She tried to focus on what she was saying, her lie so obvious, but then that stupid cat put a gentle hand into her hair and started to massage her scalp, petting her so softly that her purrs echoed.

Why did that make her feel so warm inside and why did it feel so good?

“Aw, my little kitten.” Chat cooed out. “So adorable. You’re happy to see me, hm?”

“Hm— ah, n-no.” The heroine leaned into his palm, forgetting about their surroundings as she melted into his touch— that is until a prickling sensation shook her whole body and she heard the faintest scrap of metal against the ground.

Her eyes flew open again and she jerked back into a sitting position, eyes snapping to the right as her hackles raised. Another stupid car was coming right at them! Without much thought, the heroine pushed her partner down onto the opposite side of the roof, rolling down after him just as the vehicle smashed into the building.

Okay.

So this Akuma was the murderous kind.

Not the trap or trick kind.

Nice to know.

“Okay, we have to lure her towards the Seine,” She jumped into her usual serious mode, jumping to her feet and unaware that her tail was swishing behind her. “That way there’s less of those stupid cars to throw. I’m pretty sure everyone is to safety by now but we still don’t want her damaging buildings due to the people inside.”

“Ladybug— er, I mean… what do I call you now?” Chat asked, standing up and stretching his wings, and then almost falling over again due to the wind and some building chunks the muttering Akuma was chucking at them.

“Uh, I don’t know, you pick.” She said half mindlessly, blocking hits for both of them. “It looks like a bigger version of when Juleka got Akumatized but I haven’t seen anything that could be the object and trust me, I’ve been thrown around enough to catch all of her.”

“Bluebell Kitten,” He said, pointing to the bell in the middle of her bow. “And are you okay? Did you have trouble using the baton?”

“No, the baton is easy, it’s the stupid senses thing! How can you focus on anything?” The apparent kitten asked, pointing towards the Eiffel tower. “And for the record, I regret giving you the choice to choose, Scarlet Beetle.”

“Ah, nice name.” He grinned, heeding to her signal, and started to run in that direction. “I don’t know, it just comes naturally. Makes sense it would be overwhelming for you, though. You get no extra senses at all, I don’t know how you fight like this.”

“Quite easily,” Bluebell Kitten quipped. “And just wait until you use my charm, it’ll definitely knock you off your feet.”

“That’s okay,” Scarlet beetle helped her keep the right face and sent her a wink that sent her tail wagging embarrassingly. “It’ll just be another way I fell for you.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that made its appearance. “You ready for this, buggy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, kitten.”

The battle went by with a little struggle— Scarlet Beetle having to help Bluebell Kitten with her speed, showing her the best way to stop or how to adjust her eyes to focus properly on what she was doing and about the new depth perception she had. In return, the bug turned cat helped the still flirty boy fly better, teaching him how to find the right air currents and how to land— but the heroine could tell her partner struggled with the Miraculous.

It was a different kind of struggle than she had with his.

Sure, Plagg’s magic was uncomfortable and too light and just wrong against her skin but Tikki with her kitty? Not a good mix.

He struggled to understand that he couldn’t take any hits for her— that that was the Kitten’s responsibility now.

That, no matter how much he wanted to save her, he couldn’t do anything that would put himself incapacitated or at a greater risk. They could defend each other but he was the last line of defense— they were a team but he mattered more.

He was the only one that could heal those hurt, that could fix things that were broken.

“Minou,” She had sighed out, blue eyes sparring her partner a glance as she distracted and he tried to figure out what his lucky charm meant. “No self-sacrificing today, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Scarlet Beetle had asked, frowning as he spun his yoyo in a circle to block some rumble from hitting him.

“It’s not your job to protect me right now. It’s your job to survive long enough to defeat the Akuma and fix everything.”

“But—”

“No buts. You can’t put yourself at risk, even for me. Understood?”

Begrudgingly, the blond-haired boy nodded and they settled their full attention back into the battle. Within minutes it was done, both of them having used their powers and able to return poor Juleka back to the Couffaine boathouse after fist-bumping and answering Alya’s question when she stormed up to them for a report on the Ladyblog.

The heroine could tell that her poor bug was still upset, having witnessed her take a couple blows that he hadn’t seen coming— being more unattentive than usual and not able to sense as much.

She had broken ribs but still fought by his side.

Broken ribs were nothing compared to what he went through before, she had told herself. He had died before, she wasn’t as unlucky.

“Chaton,” The Kitten grabbed his wrist, stopping him from where they were running on a roof, his earring cuffs beeping letting them know he only had three minutes left, her ring was at four. It had been roughly twenty minutes since they used their powers; more time from being older and getting more powers and mature suits. “I’m sorry that today was bad for you.”

“I’m just… I’m not used to not being able to protect you, milady.” He grumbled with a  pout, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t like it.”

“It was only for today,” She reminded softly. “And I know how you feel but you just— you have to remind yourself that what happened, how I was hurt, wasn’t your fault. I know you would’ve protected me if you could have. That’s one of the burdens of having the Ladybug Miraculous.”

Scarlet Beetle just frowns at her and she sighs, reaching up a hand to softly cup his cheek.

“It’s okay, Kitty,” She smiles. “I’m fine now, aren’t I?”

“Is this how it’s like for you?” He questions, shiny green eyes flickering between her own. “Feeling helpless? Just watching and unable to save… I was unable to save you. I can’t, I can't do that again—”

Scarlet cuts himself off with a choking sound, hand clenching by his side with tears in his eyes. He trembled slightly and the Kitten felt her ears press flat as she recognized the terror in his eyes.

“Come here,” She holds her arms open, offering a hug and her boy is quick to take the opportunity and wrap himself into her gentle hold. “I know that was a hard fight but you’re not going to lose me, okay? Never. You’re stuck with me now, I’m not going to leave you or get hurt and not be there. I promise.”

“Promise,” He wiggles until his arm is free and holds out his pinky, the action so adorable that she can’t help but to giggle as she lifts her own hand and interwinds her pinky with his.

Beeps echo through the night and Bluebell pulls away, running a hand through Scarlet’s hair to make it even messier. She ruffled the spots his ears would normally be and smiled when the strands fluffed up and stuck up into different angles.

“We have to go, Minou.” She boops his nose. “Meet me in our hotel room tower tonight, we’ll switch back to normal.”

“Okay,” He gives her a goofy smile. “What does Tikki like to eat?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, or just sweets in general. Plagg likes cheese, right?”

“Really! Cookies are so much better than stinky camembert— which I’m guessing he mentioned. Do you, urm, even have that?”

“My dad’s secretly a cheese fanatic, I’m sure I can smuggle some of the good stuff from him.” Bluebell tilted her head slightly, eyeing his wings. “Don’t fly if you’re going into a window or something narrow because, and no offense, you're not good enough to avoid smacking into it and breaking something.”

“I take full offense,” He winks. “See you Milady.”

“See you, kitty.”

“Can you keep me?” Plagg asked, staring dreamily at the gruyere cheese that the young heroine had given him shortly after she detransformed and made it back home— and after he laughed about the pictures of all her friends including Adrien and Chat Noir on her walls. “I know I called you mushy and sentimental but this is even better than camembert!”

Marinette laughs and shakes her head, “Sorry Plagg, I prefer Tikki. I don’t like smelling like cheese.” Even if gruyere smelled quite a lot better than camembert.

“Ugh, humans.” The Kwami grumbles. “So fickle. You just wanna smell good for loverboy. I think that cheese smells amazing, for the record.”

“Your opinion has been noted.” She nods to him. “And I don’t want to smell good for Chat!”

“Mhm,” Plagg rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“I’m not!”

“I totally believe you, kid.”

“You’re horrible,” She grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah. Feed me some more.”

“No.”

“Feed me!”

“Stop yelling or I’m telling Tikki you were being mean to me.”

“Hey!” Plagg turned to her with glaring green eyes. “Don’t bring Sugarcube into this.”

Marinette turned to him and raised an eyebrow, “Then don’t bring my kitty into this.”

“Aw,” He snickered. “You called him your kitty. He’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Plagg, claws out!” Marinette flushed a bright red and a green light encased her.

Time to go visit her kitty— because he is hers, no matter Plagg’s teasing.

Across town in a lonely room, Adrien was laughing so hard his stomach was hurting and tears were coming out of his eyes. He was practically wheezing at this point, curled up as he tried to catch his breath— something that, at this point, was useless.

He had managed to convince Tikki to try some of Plagg’s camembert.

And the little Kwami quite honestly looked like she was going to throw up, cheeks going almost a purple as she grimaced and gagged.

It shouldn’t have been as funny as it was but Adrien couldn’t help it.

Tikki was so different than Plagg and the simple fact that she looked like she was ready to die right then and there from the mere taste of the black cat’s favorite food was one of the funniest things he has ever seen.

“Haha,” She said, voice light but disgusted as she tried to cover up the taste with chocolate— which, by her expression, he could tell did not blend well. “Now you have to try it. Fair is fair.”

“No!” He choked on a chuckle. “Plagg has tried to feed me it so many times and succeeded. I don’t need to smell like that cheese more than I already do!”

“Hmph,” Tikki crossed her arms and floated up to his face. “I’m going to tell baby bug you tried to poison me.”

Adrien gaped, “You wouldn’t.”

The miniature goddess giggled, “You’re right, but your expression was worth it!”

“You’re so much nicer than Plagg, I can see why Ladybug loves you so much,” He commented, blinking slightly at the little Kwami’s stupefied expression. “She’s talked about you before. I didn’t know your name or anything but a couple of times during patrol she mentioned how, well… how she was so grateful you were her best friend.”

“Really?” Tikki gave an excited smile that only widened as Adrien nodded.

“Really really.”

“Well, she’s the best Ladybug I’ve had. The youngest too.” Her smile goes softer with a tender look only a being as long as she had lived could have. “I don’t know how she does it all, but despite all she thinks about herself, she’s a very resourceful little bug. I couldn’t be prouder of her. Or of you, Adrien! Plagg loves you, even if the stinky socks won’t admit it.”

“Thank you. He purrs when I hug him, even if he yells at me.”

“Does he really?” Tikki laughed joyfully. “I’ll have fun teasing him about that.”

“I thought you were the one that got teased?” Adrien tilted his head to the side.

“It goes both ways,” She reassured. “He’s just better at it.”

“I see. Did he really kill all the dinosaurs?”

“And the doo-doo birds.”

“No!” He gasped. “Evil.”

“Laziness and distractions,” The kwami corrected, lifting a solemn paw. “He was different back then. Less happy.”

“Less happy?” Adrien questioned.

He always assumed that cheese was the only thing that made Plagg truly happy, well, until he met Tikki and she had shared a couple of stories, telling him about all the interesting things they’ve been through together.

“Yeah,” Tikki gave him a sad smile. “We’ve been around since the dawn of creation, Adrien, we’ve seen countless civilizations and being rise and fall, empires turned to nothing more than ash. We’ve seen evil rise and good defend time and time again. My bugs… they are always smart, always compassionate people. Sometimes gentle and sweet like your lady is. Sometimes not. But they all— each and every single one of them— see horribly traumatizing things that Plagg’s holders do not, they get torn apart from the inside out. But his kittens? They get hurt more. They risk more. They die more and they die first. Always. And he dies with them a bit each time.”

“That’s…”

Adrien didn’t even know what that was, the only thing that came to mind was— sad.

“I know,” She gave him that motherly smile of hers, tone soft and soothing but with a note of sadness to it. “You don’t have to say it. Plagg takes a long time to open up to someone. He doesn’t like acting close, he doesn’t like being close— he said that it hurts less that way. But I know that it hurts the same, that it hurts even more. That he wants more time with them, I know I always do.”

“I can’t speak for anyone but myself,” The young hero says. “But I know that whenever I go, I will want more time with him, too.”

Tikki fixes him with a sweet look in her eye, “That’ll mean a lot to Stinky Socks. Could you tell him that?”

“Of course,” Adrien gives her one of his bright smiles— one that’s actually real. “It’s almost time to meet Milady at our room, are you all energized?”

Their room was at Le Grand Paris, paid for by Major Bourgeois after he assured the two heroes that there would be no supervallince, no one allowed on that floor (the very top) without their explicit permission and that they could come there at any time, the balcony always unlocked.

Chloe told them that it was a gift to her favorite superhero and ‘friend’ of all time.

Ladybug gave a weak smile and scowled once whom she considered to be a nuisance looked away.

Besides Chloe beings, well… Chloe, Adrien had no clue what she could’ve done to make his lady hate her so much. They interacted once every couple months due to her causing an Akuma, so maybe that was it but the dislikement Ladybug had for the girl seemed to go beyond that.

It seemed personal.

“Yep! Take me back to my baby bug, please.” Tikki smiles at him.

Returning the look, Adrien calls out, “Spots on!” And is encased into a burning, dark red light before the same maroon suit and dark wings flexed against his skin.

Scarlet beetle sighed.

Oh, how he couldn’t wait to see his lady.

Arriving at Le Grand Paris, Bluebell Kitten knew that her partner was already inside based on the precariously left open door and an album from Jagged Stone that she could hear extraordinarily well even from outside.

She, expecting to be able to stop, landed onto the balcony and put away her baton— only for her clumsy feet to stumble due to her speed and she crashed right through the open door, thankful that he left it open.

Then for the second time that day, the two heroes crashed into each other before slamming into the floor, the Kitten on top of the beetle and both bright red, bodies tangled up and so close that she couldn’t tell where she ended and he started.

“H-hey, Milady.” He, for some reason, chuckled and cupped the back of her head, holding her gently as he shifted slightly underneath her. “That eager to be bugged by me, huh?”

“Chaton,” The heroine scowled, pushing herself onto her elbows as she rests peacefully against his chest. “Aren’t you punned out for the day?”

“When am I ever punned out, little kitten?”

Bluebell shrieks as a purr loudly announces her appreciation— that she otherwise would’ve been able to hide— for the pet name and she scrambled back as that stupid blond started to laugh.

“Chat!” She covers her mouth with both hands, desperately trying to stop both her blush and the noise coming from her as it only grows thanks to her useless partner pulling her back onto him with a wicked grin. “Make it stop! How do I make it stop?”

“I don’t know if I want to help you with this, Milady,” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I quite like you not being able to hide how you feel.”

The purr in her chest turned into a soothing, almost constant rumble and she pouted.

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” The words seemed to vibrate in her throat and she swallowed the odd tickling feeling down. “I purr, Chaton. Purr! And every time I look at you my stupid tail wants to act up! Why? Because it hates me.”

“No,” He grinned. “Because you loooove me.”

Flushing deeply, she buries her head into her hands— deciding that's not enough and then buries it into his chest to hide the red-stained cheeks but Scarlet Beetle only laughs, telling her he saw it already.

“Come on, Bugaboo. I’m just teasing you.”

“I don’t like this.”

“But you like me.”

“Chat!”

“What? I didn’t do anything.” His laugh deepens and she can feel it in her own chest, being that close to him. That traitorous purr only gets louder. Stupid, stupid cat instincts. Why can’t she enjoy the sound of his laugh without him knowing? Was that too much to ask?

“Just give me my miraculous back, you silly tomcat,” Bluebell grumbles, successfully sitting up this time, the purr quieting when Scarlet Beetle puts his hands back to his sides. “And don’t tease my purring!”

“Why not?” He pouts. “You tease my purring.”

“That’s different,” She whines. “You’re cute when you do it. It’s just weird for me too! I don’t want to be able to hear your heart beating— wait!” She stared at him in wide-eyed horror. “Do you… do you usually hear that good?”

“Yeah?” The hero gives her a weird look. “But I learned to ignore it, why?”

“No reason.” She sighs, looking away from her partner as she scrambles off of him, both standing up and a foot apart. “Point is, I’m a cat person but I don’t want to be a cat.”

“I rather like seeing you as a cat,” His comment earns a dry look.

“I’m sure you just love seeing me prance around in leather but I like being Ladybug, not a kitty.”

“But you're my kitten,” Beetle’s pout returns, and his green eyes widen innocently— almost as bad as Manon’s when she wants something.

The longer she stared into his eyes, the more familiar they became.

Not because they were Chat’s eyes, no— she’s seen her partner’s slitted gaze thousands of times. She’s seen him look at her a thousand times with that look in his eyes, too. The look that got her heart racing and the ‘what ifs’ to drag through her mind.

But these eyes?

And that expression?

She saw it somewhere else, on someone else.

All she can do is stare blankly at him, mind reeling.

No… no, it can’t be him— Chat can’t be—

But he could.

The missed classes, the poor excuses, the exhaustion, the secret gaze, the trusting of her civilian self. Blonde hair, green eyes. Bad father. Kind, selfless, smart. Lonely. The gentlest soul she has ever met.

Everything just clicked.

The thing they had been dancing around for years just fell into place looking into those eyes— eyes she used to be too nervous to look into. Eyes she tripped over, eyes she used to be in love with; eyes she still was in love with.

Raising a shaking hand to his cheek, she caressed it softly before bringing it up to his hair and brushing the strands back. He watched her, curious gaze intense as they locked eyes.

“Adrien?”

The name passed her lips so softly, so assured, and her kitty flinched in surprise, wide eyes filling first with confusion, then panic, and then with questions.

“How did you…”

She fell for him once under the hood of an umbrella and a sincere apology, with thunder and lightning crashing around them in the downpour but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t the only thing in Paris that day that felt so heavy that she could scream and she didn’t mind. She fell in love with the sweet boy with good grades and a sadness trapped into a smile. She fell in love with the boy who did everything he could to make his father happy, to help people. She fell in love with the boy beyond the good boy, perfect model facade he put on.

She fell in love with Adrien Agreste at fifteen.

She fell in love with him again at eighteen but it was different this time. There was no lightning, no quick strike of feelings and amazement and warmth. No, it was like swimming in shallow waters only to get swept up in the tides, completely trusting the water to keep her safe.

She fell in love with the puns, with the goofy smile and flicking ears and curious green eyes. She fell in love with her best friend, her partner. She fell in love with the boy in the mask, the one who supported her whenever she needed it and held her even when she didn’t. She fell in love with his sensitive heart and sharp mind.

She fell in love with Chat Noir.

And ever since then she’s been falling all over the place, enamoured over everything he did. She fell and fell and fell. There were so many things to love about him— both sides of him.

How couldn’t she see it before?

Because, honestly, who else could’ve been good enough to be Chat Noir?

“Your eyes,” She murmured almost absentmindedly, looking between the verdant orbs. “They’re usually darker and slitted. Cats eyes. But… but these eyes? These are Adrien Agreste’s eyes. I know these eyes, they’re beautiful.”

She could hear his heart racing and she could see the almost begging way he looked at her. She could see the tension in his body, the way he could so easily shrink in on himself.

“And is… is being Adrien okay?” The hero questioned, wincing slightly as he looked away from her. “Are you disappointed that it’s me?”

“Of course not,” She giggled and that stupid purr still hadn’t left. “You’re you. How could that ever disappoint me, Chaton?”

“I don’t know... I’m not, I don’t— do I know you?” Adrien— Chat— questioned, shuffling on his feet as he leaned into her touch. “Outside of the mask, I mean?”

She felt the purring stop and her ears went back. She retracted her hand slowly to her cheek and hugged herself around the middle. She looked down at the wings opened anxiously against his back, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face.

“Yeah,” The heroine nods. “We’re friends.”

Friends.

That’s all they were.

Chat Noir and Adrien were in love with Ladybug— not her.

She wasn’t elegant or agile, she tripped over her feet three times a day and could be so unorganized and forgetful that she drove herself insane. She wasn’t too confident and she was far from brave.

Marinette wasn’t like Ladybug.

She wasn’t… she wasn’t that perfect girl Chat made her out to be.

Adrien was her friend, they hung out and could have good conversations but she noticed that he avoided her slightly, almost like he was disgusted by her. Like she made him uncomfortable.

Like he couldn’t stand her, even if he was polite.

It was almost like how she acted the first year they knew each other but he seemed more… wary, like she had done something to offend him and he was just waiting for her to realize or talk to him about it.

Would he be disappointed that she’s Ladybug?

Angry, even?

“Why do you look so sad, bugaboo?” Adrien asks, concern touching his tone. “Did you— do you not want to be my friend?”

When she looked at him, her poor partner looked ready to drop with worry and she gave a watery chuckle, just realizing there were tears in her eyes.

“Sorry,” She rubs the wetness away, almost poking herself with the claws. “I just… you don’t like me much. The civilian me, anyway. I don’t want you to  be upset that it’s me.”

“There are very few people I don’t like,” He frowned. “And none of them have blue hair, or blue eyes, or your smile. Who are you?”

Bluebell lowered her eyes, “You won’t hate me?”

It’s always been a fear of hers— Chat finding out who she actually was and leaving her, being disgusted. How could an insecure klutz like that protect Paris? How could he trust the girl who couldn’t get three good sentences out to him to talk down an Akuma or soothe one of the victims with her tone?

How could he still love her, knowing the girl underneath the mask?

Ladybug was stunning.

Marinette was just… Marinette.

“I couldn’t even if I tried,” Adrien reassured her, wringing his hands together in such a cute, unlike-Chat way that she giggled. “Can I detransform?”

“Sure,” She took a step back again, nervous for no reason at all.

It was just Chat, just her partner. Just the boy she’s been in love with for the last five years.

No big deal.

None whatsoever.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “You look like you’re going to cry. Oh no, I’m so sorry! I knew you wouldn’t like that I was Adrien! God, I’m so stupid—”

“Stop being mean to yourself!” She snapped. “I care about you, both sides! I care that you’re Adrien because you make me a little nervous but it’s nothing bad, I promise! I just have, urm… it’s a lot to process.”

“...Understandable.” He swallowed, then said, “Spots off.”

A flash of red consumed Scarlet Beetle and in his place stood Adrien, hair neater and muscular body less accentuated in his, ironically, ladybug-themed sweater and jeans that she knew he wore to school.

It was Adrien Agreste.

Her friend Adrien Agreste.

Bluebell knew that— of course she knew that but seeing it… it took her breath away.

Tikki floated between the two heroes with wide eyes, glancing to her baby bug and then back to the blond. She had no clue what was happening and her holder dreaded the lecture she’d get later of the importance of keeping their identities a secret.

With slightly narrowed eyes but an encouraging smile, Tikki went over to the other side of the room where the cookies were at and started to eat.

She could feel the Kwami’s eyes on her and the anxiety creeping around her veins pulsed viciously.

Taking a deep breath, she looked Adrien in the eyes— and then purred.

Loudly.

Horrifyingly loud.

When will this nightmare end?!

“Eep!” She stumbles back, flushing. “I don’t mean to, I swear!”

Adrien gives her that bemused smile, one usually reserved for Marinette after she did something weird or awkward, and chuckles, “It’s okay, Milady. No judgment here.”

“Thanks.” She said, still covering her cheeks.

“Are you, um… going to detransform, too?”

She knows that Adrien— Chat— has wanted to know who she was since the day they met. She wanted to know too but the fear of Hawkmoth getting to them outweighed the desire.

But thinking about it and actually telling him were two different things.

“I meant what I said,” Bluebell told him, voice steady but wary. “You avoid me and… and the way you look at me— we’re friends but just don’t… don’t get your hopes up that I’m someone you’ll like.”

“I already know I like you, with or without the mask.” He reassured, that usual comforting smile on his lips that got him that sunshine-boy reputation. “So please, bugaboo? I really want to know who you are.”

She bit her lip, holding her breath for a couple of seconds as she held herself in place too, leaning against the wall besides the windows.

She felt trapped, worried, but also excited.

She wanted him to know, even if she was scared.

She was far enough away from him, she could probably make it to the window and escape if he looked absolutely revolted by her.

She’s faced rejection before.

She could do it again.

Even if it would hurt really, really bad.

“Claws in.” She said, face turned to the ground as she trembled.

Oh God, there was no turning back now.

The soft baby blue light surrounded her, the drowning, beating wave-like power of the Miraculous leaving her as Plagg appeared in the air next to her arm— him being tackled by Tikki before he could even say anything, followed by a loud ‘shush’ from the Kwami.

Marinette stood there, shoulders raised with tension and her heart pounding behind her ears. She had the strongest urge to hide her face from view, to run away from all of this.

From his reaction.

“You’re… you’re Marinette.” Adrien said this slowly. He got a nod in reply. “And you think that I— Adrien Agreste— don’t like you?”

She gave another nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

She couldn’t even look at him. How pathetic could she get?

“I don’t hate you, Mari,” He said this and Marinette shyly looked up, flushing at the look of adoration on his face. He could still look at her like that? How? “I always noticed how uncomfortable I made you, I was just giving you space. I didn’t mean to make you upset, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She rubs her arms and looks away again. “You don’t make me uncomfortable, just nervous.”

“Why?” Adrien questioned, voice almost cracking. “Do I intimidate you or something?”

Marinette couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“Intimidate me?” This is said with a giggle and she makes her amused eyes meet his. “You think you’re intimidating? Cute.”

“Hey,” His tone turned slightly offended and she bit her lip as he pouted. “I can be intimidating and scary.”

“Yeah?” She teases, leaning forward with that twinkle in her eyes— playful like how she could be with Chat. Because this was Chat. “Do it. Be scary. Intimidate me, ‘o frightening one.”

“Urm, I d-don’t think I can right now. You’re you.”

“Does your brain feel like it’s going to explode?” Marinette asks, blue clashing with green as she tilts her head to the side.

“Kinda.” Adrien admits sheepishly. “I’m still trying to understand why you get nervous around me.”

“Uh,” She blinks, a sheepish smile coming onto her face. “I know you’re in love with Ladybug but— but I’m not her, I’m not that great. I’m just me. And you think of me— Marinette— as a friend. But… I’ve kind of been in love with you since Dupont?”

“You what?”

“Been in love with you,” Marinette’s face burned. “Since I was about thirteen. I hated you at first, you were friends with Chloe and the gum on my seat didn’t help but then I noticed how kind you were. Smart, selfless. Lonely, too but you don’t like talking about that so I’m sorry for mentioning it— I just, I fell in love with you and that’s why you always made me nervous because I didn’t think you could love me back.”

“Marinette,” Adrien looks at her, tenderness and seriousness oddly mixed in his gaze as he slowly walked towards her. “I’ve been in love with you from the second we met. And don’t say that you’re not Ladybug because you are, both inside and outside of the mask. You help people, you protect them. You’re passionate and strong and stubborn and I love you. I don’t know how many times I’ll have to say it before you believe me but I’ll do it until then and even after. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts— mph!”

With slight tears pricking her eyes, Marinette closed the distance between them and wrapped him into a tight hug, his now familiar body both making her feel calm and make her heart race.

“I love you too.”

Adrien sighs contently, wrapping his arms around her too. He held her gently but tightly, not willing to let her go but not risking hurting her— not that the silly kitty could.

Suddenly he chuckles and says, “That explained why you purred.”

“I said not to tease me!” She whined, pulling back enough that she could look up at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re  so mean, Chaton.”

“And you’re stunning, Bugaboo.”

The comment made Marinette squeak and dunk her head, desperate to get her blush out of his eyesight— but a soft yet collapsed hand holding lightly onto her chin stopped the action, Adrien bringing her eyes back up to look at him.

“You believe me when I say that, yes?” He asks. “Because I mean it. Everything about you is gorgeous, I don’t know how I didn’t realize the two girls I fell in love with were the same one.”

“It’s because we’re both stupid,” She giggles, stering the converastion away from compliments, unsure of how much warmer her face could get before she combusted. “But I also blame your hair.”

“My hair?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” She hums, reaching up to play with the soft strands as she had done so hundreds of times before. “You always have it so neat but as Chat it’s messy.”

“I like it better that way,” He explains, a slight purr to his voice. “It’s more comfortable.”

“Both styles are equally cute, so you’re lucky.” She murmurs absentmindedly, still focused on his hair, ruffling it slightly with a smile. Then she notices the ear cuffs he had on and blinked in surprise. “Are those my earrings?”

“Huh?” Adrien blinks his eyes open and Marinette giggles at his dazed expression. Even without the ring he was her silly kitty who liked to be pet and cuddled. “Oh, yeah. They changed when I touched them.”

“Your ring did too,” She shows him. “It was weird, I thought it would’ve stayed silver.”

“Yeah, me too,” He poked the ring and then gently slides it off of her finger, putting it on his own before reaching up for the earrings and giving them back to their rightful owner who puts them off and sighs in relief.

This magic was familiar— this magic was warm and like home and tight enough to keep her safe, not like swimming in an open ocean and gasping for air only for her lungs to fill with water instead.

“Mari?”

“Yes?” She looks up at him, seeing questions in his verdant eyes.

“Have you, um, seen something bad that I haven’t?”

It was admittedly a weird question, one that through her off guard but one that also made her think of the word drowned in water and dust, of the Eiffel tower toppled over, of watching herself crumple and fade, of seeing the moon cracked open in the sky and a boy in white with blue, crying eyes and a broken soul.

It made her think of how she saved him— but how she hadn’t saved her Chaton all those times, how she watched him die and fade and get captured and tortured and taken control of.

It made her think of the trauma of watching her city burn and the people in it all relying on her since the tender age of thirteen to save them all.

It made her think of all the times she had to protect everyone by herself because she lost Chat after he risked everything to save her.

Realizing she got lost in thought, Marinette startled and focused back onto her partner, “Yes, but don’t worry Minou. I can handle it.”

“I want you to be able to talk to me about those things,” Adrien murmured softly. “Tikki told me that all her Ladybugs live through things Chat Noirs don’t— but we’re a team. I want to share that burden with you.”

She sighed— and then she told him about Chat Blanc, she told him about how Paris drowned under the weight of their love three years ago and she’s been scared for him ever since, she told him about all of it.

By the end, they were both in tears and holding onto each other.

A weight feels like it was lifted off of her shoulders, like she was light enough to just float. It felt good talking about it, to let go all of that terror and heartache she accumulated over the years.

“You’re stronger than I ever knew,” Adrien kisses her forehead and her heart flutters. “I’m so proud of you, my little kitten.”

“Adrien,” She whines, hiding her face into his shoulder. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” He chuckles, lightening the mood. He always had a way of doing that. “Complimenting you?”

“Yes, I’m not used to it!” Marinette exclaimed. “You’re making me blush too much!”

“What if that’s my goal?”

“Then it’s a bad goal.”

“Meow-ch, Princess.” Adrien puts a hand over his heart. “You hurt me so, but fine. If that’s a bad goal, then what’s a good one?”

Feeling brave, she shoots him a wide smirk, “Kissing you until you’re breathless.”

He just stares at her, gaping as he blinks.

“What, Kitty?” She teases, leaning closer. “You flirt all the time but can’t take it?”

“No, it’s j-just… I completely support that goal.”

Laughing, Marinette rolls his eyes before cupping his face and kissing him— the feeling of his soft lips on hers sending a shiver down her spine. It was passionate and slow and loving, a kiss that told both of them all they had been feeling for these years.

It was a kiss that told them no matter what happened, they’d be okay.

So they kissed, again and again until they lost reality.

Going through the pain of having their Miraculous switched was worth it.

[multiharlot]

too little too late / s. reid

summary: spencer and y/n have been together for about eight months and she’s beginning to pick up on some things she wish she could remain oblivious to.

warnings: nothing really, light cursing, definite angst, this one is a long one. lmao sorry (2 part imagine. so be on the lookout.)

masterlist 

part 2

y/n’s pov

there was always a little piece of her in everything we did. i had somehow become a third wheel in my own relationship. i had taken the backseat for someone who wasn’t even here anymore. i should have known. i should have known the moment i brought him along to get my haircut.

“how do you feel about blonde?” i ask, flipping through the color book.

spencer shrugged and looked over at the book, gently pulling it from my grasp.

“how about black?” he suggests, turning to the back of the book with the dark hair samples.

at the time, i didn’t think anything of it. and i didn’t think anything of it when he had also slyly suggested bangs. i never thought anything of it when his team came over for dinner one night and morgan had pointed out how i eerily resembled my boyfriends deceased ex-lover. i never thought anything of it when spencer would lock himself away, rereading her letters or running his fingers over the book she had gifted him. perhaps it was because i didn’t want to think of it. i wanted to deny it until he had more time to make room for me in his still heavy heart. losing a lover wasn’t an easy thing to cope with, and i had no idea what he was going through. so i only thought, that this was how it was supposed to be. i let myself believe that this sort of treatment was normal. but it’s not.

“hey spence?”

“hmm” he hums tiredly as he tightens his grip around my waist.

i drag my finger over his smooth forearm, tracing the veins bulging through his skin.

“i love you”

“mmm love you too” he mumbles into my neck as he slowly drifts off into sleep.

this was the night i finally had to admit to myself that maybe this man wasn’t as good for me as i thought he was. as i laid in bed, facing my exhausted lover, i placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb softly over his stubbled cheek and letting my hand travel from underneath his jaw and into his hair. a content sigh falling past my lips as i studied every inch of his face. as if i had to memorize it before it could dissipate from my view. a gentle and tired smile reaches spencer’s face and he opens his mouth slightly, sucking in a breath of air, and mumbling softly as he exhaled.

“maeve...”

my hand froze and i quickly retracted it from his soft brown curls. my heart plummeted into my stomach and my throat tightened. spencer sometimes talked in his sleep, and it was one of the things i grew to love so much about him. one of the many things. but as he continues to mumble her name amongst the sweet nothings that escaped his lips, i had never hated his quirks more than i did right in this moment. i shifted my body onto my back and spencer pulled me closer, her name still escaping his lips from time to time. this made my mind race. what had she looked like? was morgan right? do i actually look like her? was that the only reason why spence was with me? i hadn’t actually realized how long i had laid there, staring at the blank ceiling, but before i knew it, the sun began poking through the blinds in spencer’s bedroom window. i still found my body paralyzed from the emotions when spencer’s phone rang out. i quickly turned my body away from his, closing my eyes and i listened to him groan and grab his phone from the table. 

“hello?”

“yeah...yeah okay i’ll be there.” 

he lets out a long sigh and throws the sheets off of his body. i kept my eyes closed as i listen to his rummage through the room. eventually, i hear his footsteps come closer to me and he runs his hand through my hair, his hand traveling down to my shoulder and he shakes me gently. 

“hmm?” i hum out, too afraid to look into his eyes. 

“i have to go, but i’ll call you. okay?”

“hmm.” i hum, flipping my body away from him. 

he lets out a chuckle before i hear him exiting the apartment. i release a breath that i hadn’t realized i was holding and sit up in bed, staring at closed closet doors. the letter filled box screaming at me through screens of the door. i threw the covers off of my body and searched through the articles of clothing and pulled the small shoebox from the back end of the closet, carefully opening the lid and flipping through the opened envelopes. every part of me wanted to read what the letters had said, but i had decided that i had already gone far enough into invading his privacy. but between the envelopes, i found what i had been searching for. the small 4x4 wallet sized photo of a beautiful woman. i looked as though he had taken the photo from a print out of a new article, but she was beautiful. far more beautiful than i could have been, no matter how many times i cut my hair, no matter what color i chose to dye it. no matter how many boxes of contact lenses i had purchased to replace my glasses or how many new articles of clothing i purchased because spencer had told me how much he enjoyed seeing them on me while we were at the store. i wiped my wet cheeks and tucked the photo back into the box, every bone in my body had began to shake with anger and embarrassment. angry at what a fool i was to fall into his tricks. embarrassed that i hadn’t noticed what exactly he was doing. i was giving my all to someone who was giving me nothing in return and now i had been run dry. i took a deep breath and put the box back into the closet. i stood from the ground and grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, writing out the note. 

spencer, 

i cannot compete with someone who cannot be here to claim their victory. i refuse to continue playing the fool. i love you. and i tried to understand your pain. i tried to help you through your struggles despite the hurt you inflicted on me every time you turned me away to pine after someone who couldn’t possibly respond to you. and maybe i’m being harsh right now, but it’s been years since she passed, spencer. you had so many chances to not continue this relationship. i had left the door open for so long, yet you insisted that you were ready for this. and i let myself believe that you were. but i can’t keep pretending to be somebody you need. i can’t continue being a surrogate for the love you lost. i won’t keep laying next to you when my name isn’t the name that’s leaving your lips when you fall asleep. i can’t stay with you when i’m not the woman you’re dancing with in your dreams. i hope you find peace, spencer. everyone deserves peace. just please don’t try and find peace in somebody else again.

y/n

a sob escaped my lips as i neatly folded the paper, leaving it on top of his desk. the morning sun was still high and bright in the sky. i grabbed my phone from the side of the table and dialed my best friends number, i knew he wouldn’t be awake right now, and should this be any other circumstance, i wouldn’t be calling. 

“y/n? why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” he groans, making me chuckle as i wipe the running snot from my nose onto my sleeve. 

is that gross? yes. do i care? not particularly no. 

“trevor? i umm...i need you to come get me.” i whimper as i walk around his home, collecting my things that were placed sporadically throughout his apartment. 

“what? what’s wrong? where are you?” he rushes out, i hear his keys jangling through the other end of the phone as i ran my finger over a framed photo of us that was placed gently on the mantle. 

“i’m at spencer’s. i’ll tell you when you get here.” i sniffle. 

“yeah. okay. i’ll be there soon. do you need me to stay on the phone?”

“no...just...get here.”

i hung up the phone and take the photo from the frame, deciding to leave no memory of us. as if we had never existed. because that’s certainly how it felt. 

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

*10 months later* 

“daniel, baby, please breathe.” i smile, placing my hand on my boyfriend’s broad chest to withhold him from his continuous rambling. 

he chuckles, taking a deep breath before nodding his head. 

“i know i know. i’m sorry. this guy just...i moved here to get away from the big town crime. yet here i am, dealing with some rambunctious serial killer.” he frumps, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

i give him a gentle smile and clean up the plastic containers littering the small coffee table in his office where we were taking a quick lunch break after i had finished my all night shift at the hospital.

“yeah well, you have the fbi coming in. they’ll help you figure this out.” i say as i throw the containers into the garbage. 

“and i have my beautiful trauma nurse girlfriend who will definitely come save my life if i have a panic attack over this?” he asks, a dopey smile on his face. 

“of course.” i giggle, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

there’s a soft knock at the door and one of his deputies pokes his head into the office. 

“hey guys, sorry to interrupt but that fbi team is here.”

daniel looks at me apologetically and i wave him off. 

“go greet them. i’ll finish cleaning up in here and then i’ll head off.”

“okay. thank you. and let me know when you get back home please?”

i nod my head and he stands up from the couch, placing another kiss to my lips before walking out of the office. i had met daniel about a month after moving away from quantico. we had met on my first day at the hospital after he had sprained his wrist after tripping to get a cat out of a tree. i was originally very hesitant to get into another relationship so soon after spencer, but daniel had proved to be ten times the man spencer ever was. daniel showered me with the love and affection i never got from spencer, and he always reassured me when i needed it. he was so patient with me and took good care of my fragile heart. soon enough, i found myself in love with the small town sheriff and had long forgotten about the man who took my love and ran with the wind. that was, until i walked into the middle of the small office and came face to face with the bau. 

“y/n” morgan gasps quietly and my eyes skim over the team, eventually meeting spencer’s. 

my heart skipped a beat and my hands turned into fists at my side as i gripped tightly onto the pants of my scrubs. i felt a hand on my lower back and my vision shifts upwards to my curious boyfriend. 

“you guys know each other?” he asks, flipping his line of sight from me to the team. 

“yeah ummm...i didn’t know you brought the bau in...” i mumble, and daniel nods cautiously. 

“yeah i did...are you okay, y/n?”

i cleared my throat, grabbing daniels button up and dragging him down to my level, standing on my toes as i whispered into his ear. 

“spencer’s on this team.” i whisper quickly before releasing him from my grasp. 

“oh...oh” he says, his eyebrows raised as his eyes fall onto spencer. 

i quickly elbow his side and smile nervously at the team still standing in front of me. 

“well, ya’ll have a serial killer to catch, and i have z’s to catch. i’m really tired, so i’m gonna head home. but it was nice seeing you all.” i smile, nodding my head awkwardly as the deputy leads them into the back of the station to set up. 

spencer’s gaze never pulls away from me and i shift uncomfortably. 

“hey, are you sure you don’t want to stay at my house?” daniel asks worriedly. 

i roll my eyes, placing my hand gently on his cheek. 

“i will be just fine. nobody will mess with me knowing i’ve got a mr. beefy boy as a boyfriend.” i wink, bumping my hip with his. 

“yeah, stronk beef cake will protecc and attacc.” his deputy snorts, making me throw my head back in laughter. 

daniel rolls his eyes and grabs my chin, pulling my face up and pressing a swift kiss on my lips. 

meanwhile, spencer and morgan stood at the table, both staring intensely at the sheriff and the woman who used to look at the resident boy genius the same way she looked at this small town sheriff.

“looks like you’re too little too late, kid.” morgan says, placing an empathetic hand on spencer’s shoulder. 

“i lost one love, i’ll be damned if i lose another.”

[lunasilvermorny]

Luna Silver - Year 6 - Part 1.

If I had to give this mini story a Harry Potter-esque title, it would be:

Luna Silver and the Totally Original Plot that No One Ever Used in Anything, Ever. Because It’s So Unique. Seriously.

Now jokes aside, as I mentioned before, from this point on I completely separated the headcanon from the game canon, so anything that happened in the game after year 5 is not a part of this universe. I guess it technically makes this whole thing an AU then.

Hope you enjoy it! I definitely enjoyed writing it... And yeah, let’s dive right in.

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

Part 1 – Waking up.

It was a ray of light in the early morning that passed through narrow gaps between the treetops and landed right on her face that finally managed to wake her up. She let out a faint sigh in pain, while her eyelids rapidly opened and closed as her eyes rolled in their sockets. Her breaths were steady but uneven and she barely felt anything but a splitting headache and a severe neck pain.

It took her a few minutes to be able to perceive her environment. She was lying on the ground; the wind brushed lightly on her skin and carried the sound of the buzzing insects and chirping birds. It was too lively – it must be summer. But where?

Her abdomen felt too heavy for any movement, but she was able to move her limbs, especially her arms. She pressed her hand to her right temple and felt a warm, moisty texture that was too dense to be regular sweat, and when she brought her hand into her field of vision and saw that her fingertips were covered in red, she realized it was blood.

She sent her hands to scout the ground around her head and when she felt large roots that protruded from the ground, she put all her strength in pulling herself into a sitting position, slowly leaning on the big trunk of the tree behind her.

She groaned as she started to examine everything around her. She was in a forest, but it wasn’t familiar to her. Nothing was familiar to her, she realized as she tried to think of the place she came from or was heading to.

She felt the blood slowly dripping down her face, obstructing her vision in her right eye. ‘That’s a lot of blood’ was her first thought followed by ‘I have to stop it.’ But how?

It hurt when she tried to recall anything, but instinctively she knew that the wand on the ground next to her is the solution. Barely knowing what she’s doing, she raised it closer to her forehead, pointing it at her right temple. She has to say something for it to work, right? But what?

Her head began to spin and she tried to force herself to stay in place until the right spell would come to mind, but it was empty.  She felt dizzy, like she’s about faint again at any moment. She tried to focus on deep breaths, but her hands were shaking and her stomach muscles twitched, enhancing the sensation of nausea.

“Epis…Episky.” She whispered, as her breaths got heavier and managed to activate her wand, but it didn’t seem to affect the wound. “Episky.” She said again, barely aware of her slow descend back to the ground, as her environment slowly faded into black.

Her mind was almost gone, but her lips were still moving, saying an incantation she wasn’t able to hear anymore, but it echoed in her head like an alarm that refused to be turned off – “Vulnera Sanentur.” It repeated again and again until she completely lost consciousness.

--

An unfamiliar voice was the first thing she was able to perceive this time, as she slowly regained consciousness. Her eyes were still closed shut, but she was able to feel the wind on her skin again. Only when she heard another unfamiliar voice, it became clear that the first one came from an owl and the second from a human.

Someone moved her around; she could feel the orientation of her body changes. Something was pressed against her injury, but there was no relief sensation to the pain. They probably didn’t know how to heal it.

A word was repeated over and over again, spoken both by the human and the owl. It was bizarre and lacked a meaning in the context of the default language her mind was set to. Was it a name?

She managed to let out a sigh of discomfort that caused the two remain quiet for a brief moment, before they returned to spewing more words at her, shaking her even more urgently than before. Why can’t she understand it? It was a bit muffled, sure, but she was able to distinct each word.

Maybe it’s not the she can’t understand it, but the unbearable headache that sneaked up on her just completely neutralized her ability to do so without fainting again.

“Shh…” it came out of her throat almost as an instinct. The two voices went silence immediately. She’s still bleeding. Whatever they did, it didn’t work. She has to stop the bleeding, but her wand wasn’t in her hand anymore. “Vulnera Sanentur.” She whispered, but nothing happened. The headache was getting worst, her head began to spin and she felt the fogginess taking over again. She doesn’t have much time. “Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur.” She desperately repeated the incantation, but it was too late. Her entire body became heavy and numb as her mind drifted into nothingness.

-

This time she woke up with a loud gasp for air, her eyes popping open and her arms pushing her into a sitting position – as if she was waking up from a nightmare. It was hard to breathe. Why was it so hard to breathe? It’s almost as if her lungs were near shutting down completely before she woke up.

She looked around. She was still in the forest, but she wasn’t alone. A Tawny owl rested on her knees and an unfamiliar person was sitting next to her – both alerted by her sudden waking up.

Without comprehending everything that happened yet, her lips moved almost independently, as she said- “Wand.”

The person handed her wand and almost every action that followed it was automatic, since she was still trying to figure out where she was and what happened. She pressed the wand to her golden wristwatch and whispered an incantation that moved its lid vertically to expose a pitch-black opening to a storage space that contained most of her belonging.

“Accio healing-potions briefcase.” She said in a more stable tone and a large briefcase emerged out of the small opening. With a quick search, she pulled one of the vials out that was labelled- “bleeding.” and with a quick gulp drank its entire content. Next, she grabbed a vial under the label “head trauma” and drank its content as well.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as the potion took effect. With her blood volume restored to its normal range and her head injury healed partially, she was able to jump to her feet, feeling like she just woke up from a refreshing power nap. The owl flapped its wings as he was thrown off of her and let out an angry screech while it turned to the branch above her head as its new resting place. The person rushed to his feet as well and shot her a worried look.

“Careful.” He said. His voice was calmer than his expressions.

“I got it.” She said and rejected his gesture of help. She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back, letting out a small yawn before she realized she still didn’t know where she was. “Do you know what happened to me?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “We were supposed to meet yesterday in Diagon Alley, but when you didn’t show up, I came to look for you. You mentioned you’d be in this area and when I saw Charlie flying around, I realized something bad must have happened.”

“Charlie?” she said distractedly as she was trying to recall any of the things he just said. Does this mean she knows this person?

“Charlie Brown.” He said and pointed his finger at the owl.

“Right.” She said, unable to recognize the owl, but for some reason she was able to remember that it’s named after a character in an TV show she used to watch as a child. “And does it know what happened to me?”

“It?” he repeated as the owl let out an offended hoot. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I wouldn’t know now, would I?” she said and impatiently looked at Charlie. “Did you see what happened or not?”

The owl let out a few short hoots that she was able to interoperate as- ‘you were already unconscious when we found you.’ It seemed that the person next to her wasn’t able to literally understand what the owl was saying.

“Was I meeting someone here? Why was I in this forest in the first place?”

The owl kept letting out annoyed hoots, saying that she never told him where she was heading to and if she wants more information, she should ask Talbott.

“Talbott? What’s a Talbott?” she frowned.

“It’s me.” The person said in concern “Don’t you recognize me?”

“No.” she said honestly, but her casual tone was in complete contrast to his reaction. He was affected by her words a lot more than she was, that’s for sure. “Wait, is that your name or a weird title-?”

“Name.” he didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence. “What’s your name?”

“You got all worked up about me not recognizing you, and you don’t even know my name-?”

“I know your name.” he wasn’t upset, but he rolled his eyes impatiently. “Do you know it?”

“Of course I do.” She snored in contempt, but as she opened her mouth to say it, she realized her mind was blank again. “Uh…” she fixed her gaze at a random tree branch as she was trying her best to remember, but after a few seconds gave up and said with a shrug- “No idea, actually.”

His face became pale as he gave her a serious look and said- “We have to take you to a hospital.”

“I am well, as you can see.” She gestured her hands at her body.

“You don’t remember your own name.” he became stiff. It looks like he’s not a fan of confrontations.

“Fair point.” She folded her arms. “But how do I know you’re not the one who attacked me and now you’re just trying to lead me into a trap?” and when she saw how crossed he looked by this remark, she added- “Kidding, kidding. It’s obviously not you, otherwise why would you try to treat my wounds. Just trying to lighten the mood, mate.”

He wasn’t amused. He looked away as the color came back to his face with an additional pink hue that spread around his cheeks. “We should go.” He said after he cleared his throat, still avoiding a direct eye contact.

“Someone probably used a memory charm on me, we just need to reverse it-“

“Or it was caused by the head trauma you suffered from.” He interrupted her.

“Fine, we’ll go a hospital.” She said and started looking around. “Yeah, do you have a map or something? Because it looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere and I can’t, for the life of me, remember how to get out of here.”

“We’re not far from Hogwarts.” He said. “But I know where the nearest wizarding hospital is, although there’s a muggle one even closer.”

“But muggles wouldn’t be able to identify if it was caused by a memory charm.” She insisted.

He looked torn for a second, but then nodded and said- “Okay, we’ll fly to the wizarding hospital, then.”

“Fly?” she narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think we can just fly around in our brooms without any muggle noticing us. It’s not the 40’s, they actually have technology that can record us-“

“We’re both animagi.” He interrupted her again.

He’s right. She can turn into an owl. Since when can she do that? Why wasn’t she aware of it until he mentioned it?

“Right, I knew that.” She said, yet couldn’t shake the irritating feeling that started to creep on her that she was actually in a much worst condition than it seemed. It’s almost like she’s not able to control her own brain anymore.  

Talbott noticed that and took a few steps toward her, landing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You can do it, you’ve done it a hundred times before.”

“It’s not that.” She shrugged, yet his concerned expression must have been contagious, because she can’t seem to shake it off her face now. “Let’s just go.”

With a swift movement of her arms she turned into an owl and the three flew over the tree tops to their destination.

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

Yep.

I went with the amnesia plot and I have zero regrets about it.

Hope you liked it! ^^ I’ll post the next part once I actually finish writing it.

[thedeliverygod]

inspired by lyrics for "Dress" by Taylor Swift. And I just felt like writing fluff. manga spoilers/takes place after current arc

AO3|ff.net

my hands are shaking from holding back from you

She always thought getting Yato home would be the hard part. And it was certainly hard enough; he and Yukine had been through enough traumas to last them the next thousand years of their lifetimes. She’d also pushed her body past its limits as well, but she tried not to think about that. After all, it was all worth it to see their smiles, petty arguments, and their other usual antics around Kofuku’s house again.

Despite that, she found herself spending less and less time with them. She used excuses such as exams and plans with her other friends, but those were all distractions she also told herself to ignore the truth.

The reality was that she no longer knew how to act around Yato.

Her thoughts constantly went back to the snow bank where Kazuma cursed her with the fact that her feelings would never be enough. He had since apologized, but the words still stung. Regardless of her own pain, she figured it would be easy enough to hide her feelings around the god. Their friendship was most important to her, of course, so any romantic feelings could be pushed to the wayside.

Talking was easy enough. She didn’t really have to do anything but be herself when it came to having conversations with Yato and Yukine, it was like breathing. It was everything else that would be her downfall; the way her eyes fell to his lips when he spoke, the urge to grab his hand when they walked together, wanting to lean against his shoulder as they sat together on the back porch of Kofuku’s house.

The worst part was it wasn’t even just thoughts; she was beginning to actively have to stop herself from acting out on all of these urges that passed through her mind.

‘Even Yukine-kun being there isn’t much of a deterrent anymore…’ She sighed bitterly to herself, dragging her feet as she made her way home.

“Hiyooooriii.” Yato appeared in a flash of light, giving his usual grin.

Her mouth parted in surprise and she felt her face warming up rapidly, so she kept walking, “What brings you here?”

“I was wondering why you haven’t come over in a while. Doesn’t seem like you have plans today.” He pointed out nonchalantly as he walked alongside her.

She shrugged and forced out, “I’m just tired and it’s kind of a long way home, you know.”

“You’re not having any more episodes where you’re passing out, are you?” He tilted his head in worry.

She shook her head, “Other than leaving my body purposely, no.”

He squinted, “When do you do that? Other than coming to see us.”

“Every once in a while, just to sort of practice and, I don’t know… stretch my spiritual muscles?” She gave another shrug, “I want to make sure I don’t lose the ability.”

Yato gave a bit of a snort, “This is coming from the same girl who begged me to turn her back to normal after we first met.”

“Well, the situation’s changed quite a bit.” She answered simply, running a hand through her hair and pushing some of it behind her ear.

“Yeah, I would say so.” He agreed before taking a small pause. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit weaker, “Hey, is everything okay?”

Hiyori finally looked at him and blinked, “Yeah, why…?”

“You seem a bit… I dunno, distant.” He put his hands in the pockets of his tracksuit, “Aside from not visiting as often, even when we talk… something’s just off. Like you’re holding back.”

She felt her stomach lurch inside her body as she bit her lip. ‘Am I really that bad at this?’

“Did something happen that you don’t want to tell me about?” He asked with a small frown and looked off to the side, “Look, I know I’m the worst when it comes to keeping secrets from everybody, so it’s only fair if you don’t want to tell me. But just know that I’m here.”

“It’s not like that.” She shook her head fervently and found herself fending off the desperate urge to embrace him after that wounded look of his, “Yato, everyone has secrets. And most of yours were to protect others, like Yukine-kun. So stop beating yourself up over it, please.”

He gave a look of surprise before flashing a smirk, “Thank you, truly. But I also see that you’re trying to change the subject.”

She gave a huff and crossed her arms, “It’s just… something stupid. And personal.” Her eyes deflected away from him.

“Ahh. Boy troubles, perhaps?”

She snapped her head back in his direction, now scarlet.

He raised an eyebrow in interest and clicked his tongue, commenting, “Looks like I nailed it.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” She muttered in return. It wasn’t like she could deny it at this point; the only thing she could do is make sure that the topic stayed away from Yato himself.

He put his hand up to his chin, thinking out loud, “Huh, I never really pegged you as the sheepish type when it came to this sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hiyori fired back, annoyed.

“Uh, just because you’re usually so confident. I guess this guy must be pretty special, then.” She noticed his tone drop in the slightest before he looked back to her with a wide smile, “So what do you need help with?”

She stared back for a moment before answering, “I’m not sure that I want any help.” She swallowed and continued to sprinkle the truth within her reply, “I don’t know even know if I’m going to act on my feelings.”

His eyebrows knit together as he frowned deeply, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think there’s any chance of anything coming from it.” The pit in her stomach was only growing bigger and she was trying her hardest to ignore the stinging at her eyes as she edged closer and closer to the truth.

“But how could you ever know that for sure if you don’t even try?” The frustration in his voice rang out loudly, “This really isn’t like you, Hiyori. To give up without even fighting.” He moved closer to her and took one of her hands, holding it tightly between both of his, “Besides, any guy that would say no to you is crazy. I couldn’t dream up someone more perfect if I tried.”

The tears were definitely stinging now. “I’m not perfect.” She gave a small laugh.

“To me you are.” He locked eyes with her and she was gone, thoughts no longer coherent.

Her lips were on his before he had a chance to react. “It’s you. You’re the boy trouble.” She mumbled against him.

“Me?” His eyes flickered up to her and she nodded once more.

“I love you. I realized that shortly after you left and ever since you’ve been back, I just… I can’t be around you without wanting more. I’ve been trying so hard to just keep things the way they were, and I can’t. Kazuma-san was right…” She looked away from him and clenched her fists tight against her skirt.

She heard Yato sigh, “Sounds like he gave you some sort of speech about his own feelings for Bishamon.”

“Essentially.” Hiyori admitted with a nervous swallow.

“Firstly, the fact that psycho bitch is oblivious to how much Kazuma loves her and the fact that he doesn’t have the balls to tell her properly has nothing to do with you. That’s his own problem, so pretty much throw out anything Kazuma said.”

She peeked back at him, relief partially washing through her body but pins and needles still around her heart as she waited for his continuance.

“Secondly,” He reached out to brush a hand through her hair, the back of his hand barely skimming her cheek, “You’re not the only one who’s been trying to keep it together. I knew there was a decent chance I’d never see you again when I left, so…”

“Yeah, and I’m still mad about that.” She puffed out her cheeks and gave a glare.

He gave a small laugh before wrapping one arm around her waist and holding the other just behind her head, mumbling as he pulled her close, “I know, I’m sorry. And I love you too, Hiyori. More than you’ll ever know.”

His lips met hers a moment after, soft and gentle. She sighed, content as she melted against him.

[corpse--diem]

The Four Horsemen | Marley, Felix, Roy & Erin

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Warehouse by the docks PARTIES: @detectivedreameater @streetharmacist​ @theshadowandvalleyaremine​ & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: “And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.” CONTENT WARNINGS: Gun use tw, Head trauma tw

Felix and Marley would be here any moment. Erin hadn’t slept. Couldn’t after the events from the night before. More death--needless death--had befallen innocent lives. How many had been killed in pursuit of one man now? More than she could keep count of, she knew that much, and even more had felt the aftershocks of ever blow. She thought she had readied herself for the cost. Whatever it takes. Another one of her mantras. Her gut twisted stubbornly anyway, a big fuck you to the mantras and the autopilot mode she locked herself up into the past few months. There was a limit to everything and her’s was quickly approaching.

Rather than pace a hole into the floor, she came here, pouring herself into their notes, crossing off businesses and people that were no longer a threat or under Roy’s finger. Made a note of the attack on the witches, the locations he had hit. It was all over the place and trying to figure out where he’d go next was like fumbling through Tommy’s image still sat unmarked. Purposefully. Didn’t feel like her box to check off. Sunlight burst into the dark room, painful for a moment after huddling in the dark for so long. Wasn’t hard to figure out who the silhouette belonged to. “Hey, just in time,” Erin greeted Marley, hunched over the metal table she’d been using for a desk. They didn’t have time for whatever tension remained between them. With Roy’s next move pending, it was nothing but a distraction. Gave a nod to the images on the wall. “I was saving the honor for you.” Marley hadn’t been the one to slay him herself but she more than earned this much. Held out a marker to her, the closest thing to an olive branch as she was going to get right now.

The light at the end of the tunnel was a little too cliche for Marley’s taste, but it really was the only thought she had as she made her way to the docks that afternoon. The three of them were meeting up for a strategy talk, because their two biggest obstacles were now out of the way. It almost felt fake to think, like she’d somehow believed all of this would never end. They’d be caught in the eternal loop of fighting and losing and hitting back and winning. That was how altercations between crime rings and police usually went, but Roy wasn’t just a crime boss, and the three of them definitely weren’t just police. Speaking of, Marley slid her badge into her back pocket as she turned down the lane towards the warehouse Erin had told her about. Though there was no one around, being followed was not something she could allow to happen. She stopped, waited a few minutes by the bus stop, before slipping into the alley. By the time she made it to the door, she was well and alone.

Erin’s voice rang out and Marley glanced around before letting her eyes land on her form, hunched over a table. She was squinting over at Marley, but the dark lighting of the warehouse didn’t obscure Marley’s sight at all. She moved into the room, shutting the door. When she came over to the table, Erin had all their notes splayed out and was holding up the red marker to her. “How sweet,” she said, taking the pen. Things were still a little tense between them, but their little forest foray had eased some of the anger Marley felt. And right now, anger didn’t matter. She needed to save it for Roy.

Her hand hovered over Tommy’s picture for a moment-- her face stung at the image, all the thoughts and worries and strife he’d caused her and the others crowding her head, but something underneath it all bubbled up, something stronger, and she jabbed the pen down, marking off his image with a bright, obtrusive X right over his face. A satisfied smile fell onto her face. She remembered his body, alone in the forest. Remembered the feel of the blade as she cut through his skin. She only wished she could have been there to see Roy’s face when he saw Tommy’s head, packaged so neatly for him on his doorstep. “The honor was all mine,” she said, setting the pen down and turning to look at Erin. “So what’s the plan, now? Felix here yet?”

Felix wanted to take every streetlight that he passed by, avoided, in hand and crush it. Half in light and half in shadow. The fae hungered to paint the whole fucking town black. If he could kill the sun itself, he would climb over every star to do just that. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They weren’t done yet. Soon enough they would be. He felt pretty damn sure of that. Assurance came in the form of a paper thin glass dagger. If it was enough to wiggle between Roy Chambers ribs and snuff him out, good riddance. It would have to do. His head ached as he walked toward their meeting place. He had a feeling the ache might stop when Roy Chambers stopped breathing. It was the kind of thought that would have warmed him under different circumstances. All it did lately was make his steps quicker, his eyes sharper.

The door to their warehouse opened and shut quietly as he stepped through. He snapped the umbrella he had closed and tossed it aside. “I’m here now,” Felix said as he moved toward the table. He deftly undid the buttons of his suit jacket and took out a carefully folded piece of red fabric. His gaze shifted between Erin and Marley as he set it on the table. A hand slid into his pants pocket. “That’s our ace in there. I’m keen to see just how sharp it is.” He kept his tone level even as his disposition shifted back and forth like a ship in rough waters. A brow lifted over the rim of his glasses. “Guess they’re down a bear, huh?”

A once colorless array of images lined that wall, starting with the bossman himself, to Tommy. Many dead, some in jail, and the most cowardice of the few had fled. Turns out fear and money inspired limited loyalty. Even Dale was up there, his stupid grin marked off with a fat, red X - the very first. Triumphs spread slowly, but steadily, the crimson marking them one by one until only the last remained. “Feels pretty good, huh?” Erin asked with the whisper of a smile hiding behind furrowed brows. It was important to remember these moments. To appreciate the wins, big or little, because they sure as hell wouldn’t be forgetting their losses. Helped remind them why it was worth it, why they were doing this at all. “I’ve got a couple ideas, but I’ll wait for Felix to explain,” she answered, smoothing out the corner of the map she was looking over.

Almost on cue, she watched him slip through the door. His demeanour was far different than she usually recalled. Darker. Sharper, like the knife beneath the red cloth. Not even Felix, who’d made a point to keep his participation quiet, hidden in the shadows, had gone untouched in this war. She waited just a moment, eyes bouncing hesitantly between the two until she reached for it, anxious to reveal it live and in-person. The hilt was simple, sturdy, but once removed from the sheath, her eyes never left the glass blade. “This is it, huh?” An image of the blade sinking into undead skin, watching the life slip from his eyes, brought a dark sense of satisfaction she wasn’t prepared to admit or indulge. “Sturdy enough to crack that thick skull, you think?” She asked, teasing a smile for just a moment. “Thank you,” she nodded at him, gesturing towards the dagger. Slipped it back into the sheath and set it onto the table. Took a deep breath. “I know it wasn’t easy. None of this has been. It’s not about to get easier. But we’re almost there,” she glanced between them both, trying to hold back some of the smugness in the curve of her lips. “We’re gonna get him.” It wasn’t a question, or a matter of if any more.

Marley’s eyes went to Felix when he entered. His entire demeanor had changed. She didn’t even need to be a body language expert to see that. But what she did see that others wouldn’t was the darkness in his step. It wasn’t hidden inside of him anymore. After his loss, after everything they’d all given up to get here, it made sense. It was now a darkness they all carried. The three of them together. Marley didn’t move when the knife was placed between them and Erin unraveled it like it was the answer to all of life’s questions. And, for their purpose, it sort of was. It glinted in the dim light and reflected Erin’s eyes. Marley watched her closely. Victory was so close she could taste it, but being hasty would ruin it. She reached out and put a hand over Erin’s. “He’s going down,” she reassured, “we just have to make sure we do it right.” It felt a little hypocritical after what she’d tried to pull with Tommy, but Erin had been her voice of reason back then and now she needed to be Erin’s. “Right?” she urged, giving a little squeeze. She could feel the eagerness inside her own bones as well. When they were finished with this, things would be better. Safer. She wouldn’t have to be looking over her shoulder or worrying if someone was going to show up at Anita’s. The strange anxiety of worrying about other people was still making Marley’s stomach churn with a sourness she wasn’t used to. She’d questioned once or twice whether she truly was cut out to care about others, but if she didn’t try, she’d never know. Never prove everyone wrong. And this? This was the ultimate test, wasn’t it? Her gaze turned to Felix. “We should strike at night,” she said, turning to face the table, “we need to figure out the best place to confront him, too.”

“Don’t mention it,” Felix said with a slight nod. As the knife came into view, he couldn’t help a slim smile. It was the subtle sort of knife. The kind he could appreciate on its own but could appreciate more when it was sticking out of someone, their face frozen in shock. “Consider him dead already.” He said it easily enough, hardly a breath between. He ran his thumb along the line of his jaw as he thought. “It’d be best to get him where he’s most comfortable. A fat cat like that? I’d wager a nightly house call could do it.” He looked over towards Marley with a small smile. They had done one hell of a job before and he was sure they could do it again. As many times as they needed to. The grin widened, sharpened, as he looked toward Erin. “It’s exciting, right?” He shook out his shoulders some. Roy had made it personal for every single one of them. Whoever had said that an eye for an eye made the whole world blind just wasn’t cut out for it. “Whatever we decide, we do it now or not at all. We got all the pieces. We just need to make the moves. Checkmate his punk ass right into the gutter.”

A night attack was the only thing that made sense when your partners thrived in the safety of shadows. Erin couldn’t help the slight twinge of anger that pulled in her chest at Marley’s words. Hard to forget the panicked wallop that had socked her in the gut after Marley ran off on her own, determined to take Tommy down herself. Damn near jeopardized the whole mission. Did Marley really think she’d pull something like that herself now? It was tempting, sure. But she knew better. Wasn’t like she stood a chance against the guy on her own. “Right,” she assured her, a curt nod following. None of that mattered now. There was one goal and everything they had left had to focus on that. Nothing else. Erin squeezed her hand back before jumping right back into it, moving back to the map on the table. “Alright, so, I haven’t been able to locate exactly where he lives yet. The guy doesn’t want to be found or bothered, right? My guess is somewhere on Harris Island or in one of the gated communities in East End.” Felix was right though. This was exciting. Even found herself fighting back a smile as she spoke. “Even if he’s juiced up on someone else’s magic, there’s three of us and one of him. I think my best bet, and our best bet, is to have me slip in at the end with the knife after you’ve distracted and beaten his ‘punk ass’ down enough--”

“Wow. Seriously--wow.”

A loud, slow clap suddenly boomed from the otherside of the warehouse. Footsteps followed with a booming laugh that made every bone in Erin’s body freeze up. She knew that laugh, that voice. Couldn’t forget it if she’d tried, not with the way it haunted most of her waking thoughts.

Roy stopped clapping long enough to slip his hands into his pockets, dark eyes peering not at the three of them hovering around the table. He spared a few glances but he couldn’t stop staring at their board, the notes taped to the wall, like this was a full fledged investigation. He seemed more… disheveled than usual. Manic almost. “I’ve gotta hand it to your rag tag little group here, Nichols. You all have been nothing if not thorough, haven’t you?” A seething smirk lifted the corner of his lips before he gestured with a nod from the way he’d just come. “Although, with that in mind, you’d think you’d remember to lock the back entrance to your super secret club hideout.” He glanced towards Marley, then to Felix. “Or even hide your tracks a little better on the way here. Rookie mistake. You’re new at this, I get that. Mistakes happen.”

He took a few steps closer, slow, never daring a move that could jar them into action. Not yet. Even when he stiffened at the sight of Tommy on the wall. Took more self-control than he initially anticipated but he worked his jaw, regaining his composure. That shit-eating grin replaced the hard line he’d momentarily allowed to slip onto his features. “Mr. Doyle. Ms. Stryder,” he nodded at her two companions. “You wanted me, right? Well, here I am. You’ve got me.”

The chill that ran down Marley’s spine was one she was sure she’d caused others to feel many times. On herself, it felt wrong. Foreign. The clapping had cut through the air around them like knives and she’d turned stiffly to watch Roy stroll from the shadows and straight towards them. Her hand twitched to her gun, but she knew it wouldn’t work. Perhaps slow him down, maybe, but it would not kill. It could not. But it was her only line of defense right now, since the sun sat high in the sky. She swallowed, watched him closely, subconsciously taking a step to put herself between Roy’s path and Erin. Felix was closest to him now. Her eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses-- no, she wasn’t completely defenseless. If he could feel fear, then she could use her ace in the hole. Getting him to look at her would be the hardest part. “Didn’t your mother teach you to knock? It’s rude to just come inside uninvited,” she growled, standing perfectly still, eyes unblinking as she glared him down.

Felix looked at Roy head on as he walked in. His own movements were small, casual, as he reached into his pocket to produce a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. “Don’t they just, old sport.” Flame kissed the end of his cigarette. His anger was barely contained under false human skin. The weight of his head felt uneven as he tipped it to the side. A puff of smoke faded and brought his own grin into view. “You went looking for us, huh? Smart. Can’t blame you at all. You know, we were thinking of doing just that ourselves. Nice to see that we broke even on that one, huh?” He shifted his posture slightly, stood up straight and angled his head once more. The next drag he took of his cigarette was slow and deliberate. He gestured towards Roy with the hand that held it. “Say, we do something to set you off there, pal?”

There was an unsettling fury radiating from Roy. Erin could sense it even from here, could see something not quite right in his eyes. Every step, every word eased out of him methodically. Even the way he rolled the cuffs of his sleeves up seemed tempered, brimming with the same unease she saw in those dark eyes. But she only stood, unmoving, tensing every time Felix or Marley quipped his way, agitating him a little more each time. Slowly, so slowly, she moved her hand towards the clothed knife--

“Ah, ah--I see you, Nichols.” Roy’s dark eyes were firmly on her now. Mid-air, her hand hovered above the knife. Still himself, except for the jostling that loosened his silk tie until his neck was completely bare. That sharp smile returned when he watched the smoke curl loosely around Felix’s hand. “Oh, I’m doing peachy keen, friends. Thanks for asking.” He tilted his head slightly, gesturing towards Marley with one hand as the other sunk into his front pocket. “Well, you know, thank you for asking Felix. I’m doing swell. I mean, outside of the fact that you murdered one of my best men. That one did kind of sting a little.” He shrugged, face and nose crinkling with a feigned apathy. “I’m tired though. Aren’t you guys tired? You’ve been at this for--what? A few months now? Blowing up buildings, fighting, getting people killed.” He put a hand to his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting again. “I’m ready for this to be over. What about you? Hm?”

There was a long pause, as if he was waiting for some particular sort of answer. Satisfied after a moment, he nodded. He pulled his hands from his pockets, fingers splayed outward. “That’s what I thought. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” He felt the warmth trickling from his fingertips, the magic pulsing from every dead vein, and without hesitation, his fingers snapped inward, balling into a fist. Every single window in the warehouse crackled, glass bursting out as light poured in. “Much better,” he laughed, though it was swallowed by the deafening shattering. He moved, hands outstretched as he inwardly switched gears, flipping through the coven’s magic like an arsenal. Ribbons of fire stretched from his fingertips, shooting out at the table they all hovered near, very pointedly setting the wall of images up in flames.  

Marley’s eyes watched him closely, every movement, every twitch. It was clear he was going to attack. The only thing to figure out was when. Marley felt her chest tightening, pounding. Tommy was dead because of her, and her face was scarred because of him. She would not reveal her hand yet, though. They needed to play it cool, needed to think of a strategy first. She did not answer any of his question, only stayed poised. When his hands came back up out of his pockets, she knew. The windows shattered around them, a loud booming. The rain of glass sounding like a terrifying waterfall of shards. She covered her head, her face, immediately standing back up once it was over. The fire lashed at the wall they’d put up, setting it quickly ablaze. Marley grabbed Erin and pulled her out of the way, holding up her gun. Fired once, twice, directly into him, knowing it was simply there to provide a distraction. If Felix could get to him, they would be okay. That’s all Erin and Marley were now, distractions. “Go,” she hissed at him, “we’ll cover you!” She shoved the gun into Erin’s hands and reached down for her taser baton. “C’mon, big boy!” she hooted at Roy, “must be tiring being so old and ineffective.”

“One of your best guys, huh? You hate to see it.” The twitch of a smile lifted the corners of Felix’s mouth. That telltale smell of magic was thick in his nose. Reactions in the air, the give and take. It wasn’t quite fire and brimstone. There was too much light in the room with the windows busted but they would have to make do. There was no other option. Marley and Erin would be fine. They had to be, even as glass rained and gunshots fired. And now Roy was alone whereas they were three. But sometimes, numbers didn’t mean much. Maybe that wouldn’t be the case here. They had shit to make even. The fae flicked his cigarette aside and sought out the dark where he could. There wasn’t much. Any sunlight would sizzle him and if he stayed in it long enough… He shed the human skin he wore. It wouldn’t do him any good. Any effort would need to be put into getting close. Close enough to get his metaphorical teeth around the magic that Roy spilled over with. He slipped his glasses off and tossed them aside. As much as he wanted to spit venom, it was counterproductive. He slipped along the walls where the light didn’t touch, his steps light. Roy was close. Close enough that Felix’s blood crackled with potential magic and his mouth watered. But not close enough. Not yet.

The bullets sent Roy back a few steps, like taking a bat to the chest a few times, splicing through undead skin and muscle. “Cute,” he huffed, a thin, razor sharp smirk filling his features as he shot a glare at Marley. Wasn’t his first time taking a shot to the chest. But it was Felix who caught his attention, thick black wisps and bright eyes birthing from the solace of what little darkness remained. “Oh, there he is!” Roy shouted excitedly, peering into the darkness. A lampade. Huh. Seemed Erin had a few tricks left up her sleeve after all. Made sense now, the resiliency of their efforts. She’d only stood a chance because she’d been the only human in the room. Either way, he’d have to be more careful about where he threw his magic around now. “What happened there, bud? Get caught on a chandelier or something?” He smirked, peering over, careful not to look directly into his eyes but it was hard to mistake the space where a second antler should have been. Barely casting the two women a glance, he switched his elemental ammunition. That coven had been a goddamn goldmine.

A gust of wind this time, as strong as a draft from a hurricane, hurtled them both back, sending the crates in the room and shards of glass with them. “Come on! Let me get a good look at you,” he practically chirped. With a flick of his wrist, he used the same current to drag debris and the metal table Felix’s way.

Shit, he’d seen Felix already. Marley went to bolt forward, but in the next moment, she was being thrown backwards by a gust of wind. She landed hard on her back, tumbling a few times over before coming to a stop. Her eyes first searched out Erin, standing despite the struggle for breath in her lungs. “Get up!” she said, grabbing her and hoisting her up. “Get behind something!” The table was flying for Felix, and Marley decided now was the time to act. Invulnerability or not, she had to do something. Felix was their only bet of getting out of this alive-- he was their queen on the chessboard, and that meant Marley was nothing more than a rook or a knight. Perhaps even just a pawn. Somehow, she was okay with that. Despite all of her years of self-preservation, of putting herself and only herself ahead of others needs and wants, she felt in this moment that she wasn’t the most important person in this room. She felt as if her role was already decided. And she was okay with that. She had to be.

She made it up to Roy in no time, swung her baton, and watched it smash into the back of Roy’s head. “Wonder how your bear felt in his last moments,” she chided, purposefully looking to egg Roy on, turn his attention away from Felix. “Do you think he begged for his life? Do you think he felt like a failure?”

There wasn’t enough dark in the joint for Felix to blend in the way he wanted to. Wasn’t that just the way of things? Not going exactly how they wanted them to? He grit his teeth. His eyes brightened by a slim margin as the table came his way and he rolled away from it. With a crash, it collided with the wall. Rays of sunlight burned down on his darkened fingertips and he quickly pulled his hand into his chest. His eyes widened as Marley threw herself at Roy, baton in hand like some warrior. She sure fucking was a warrior but that didn’t seem to phase Roy as he tossed her aside. “Marley!” Roy was a large man with a large shadow, the way he stood with the sunlight pouring in. It was large enough that Felix might be able to fit into it. Something seemed to change in the air as the fae crept closer. It felt heavier.

Erin barely had a grip on the gun before her and Marley both were swept off their feet. This wasn’t the fucking plan. It was the only thing racing through her mind before her back hit the wall. A crack and a seering, burning pain ripped up her chest, making it hard to breathe. Even harder to move even when Marley yanked her back to her feet. Fuck. Hide? She could do that. It was about the only thing she could do. Wincing, she scooped up the gun from the debris and slid into position behind a sturdier looking metal crate just in time to see Marley book it. No, no, no.

Roy let out a low growl of pain when the baton connected, grabbing a fistful of the mara’s hair. A different kind of anguish gutted him. He’d never give the woman the satisfaction of knowing her intentional jabs were doing exactly what she intended them to do. If she wanted to piss him off, she’d done it alright. He gripped her hair tighter, the glamour keeping his corpse-like disposition at bay flickering with the intensity of his anger. Tommy wasn’t a failure. If anything, Roy had failed him. He grit his teeth, pulling her closer, dark eyes boring down at her. “I don’t know, do you?” He didn’t need magic to toss her away, clear across the room. She was nothing. They were all nothing. Gnats that needed to be swatted away, to be crushed under his palm. It was high time they remembered that.

The whistle of a bullet shot by his head. Then another--missed, again. The third one hit right in the shoulder and he turned just in time to see Erin gearing up for one more. So determined, so utterly human in her futile attempts, he’d almost forgotten she was even in the room. That dark smile returned and his hand shot up as he stepped forward. A new magic trickled through his veins, different than the ones he’d stolen from the coven. This was from the boy at the bar. He’d known it the moment he’d siphoned the magic but testing it here and now? It just hit different. He’d have to find him again, get another taste so he could practice. It took more focus than he realized but the pressure enveloping her skull was starting to take hold. When she dropped the gun, his smile widened at the sound of her screaming. Oh, this was fun. He liked this. He could feel the pressure building, as sure as he held her head in his palms. “Give your parents my regards, will you?”

Marley didn’t struggle when he grabbed her hair, yanking her up and holding her still. She just smiled at him, knowing what was inevitably going to happen when he let go. She would not give him the satisfaction of her fear. Like she’d told Erin not a week ago, fear wasn’t a weakness. She was surprised, however, when her feet left the ground and he tossed her away. Sure, she was flying through the air, but he hadn’t straight up killed her. That would be a mistake. When gravity claimed her and she came tumbling back down, it was with a resounding crack as her back hit the ground hard enough to steal all the breath from her lungs. She could feel the ribs snap and splinter inside of her as she finally came to a stop, wheezing as blood curled up her throat. It leaked down the side of her mouth as she lay on the ground, unable to move, her entire body screaming in pain. Fuck, this was bad. All she could do was hope that it had given Felix enough time. Tried to turn her head to look, but a scream from the other side of the room pierced her ears instead.

Erin.

“N-no,” Marley coughed, forcing her body against every protest to move, rolling over. Pain spiked through her chest, her side, her stomach, but she ignored it. Pushed herself up with her one good arm. “No…” She could see Roy’s hands, lifted up as if he were actually holding her head. She couldn’t see what was going on around Erin, but the way he was walking towards her, the way Erin was writhing in pain-- he was doing something to her. He was killing her. Marley’s entire stomach leapt into her throat. A fear like none other gripped her heart, shaking her to her core. Erin couldn’t die. She just-- couldn’t. Marley’s mind couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t figure that as an option. Erin didn’t deserve to die. She needed to live. She had to live. This wasn’t supposed to be how this ended. They’d fought for months for this, lost so much and so much-- this couldn’t be how this ended.

“No!” Her body moved on its own. She gave one last glance towards Felix, telling him with just a look to make sure he finished this. She would give them the opening to. That was her lot in this after all, wasn’t it? The distraction. The sacrifice. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d find herself thinking that, let alone acting on it. She’d always lived for herself and no one else. Maybe this was to make up for all the bad shit she’d done, then. Maybe this was how she saved herself as well as Erin. Maybe this meant her life wasn’t for nothing. Her body barreled into Erin’s with a heavy step, knocking her out of the way. Shoving her far enough out of his reach that she wasn’t a part of this anymore. Her eyes locked with Roy’s as she felt the pressure lock on to her, increasing around her head. It pounded and tore and folded her up. She let out a groan of pain, the inside of her skull vibrating. Through the haze, she grinned. Blood was already trickling down and out her nose, her mouth, her ears. She needed to make sure he focused only on her. Make sure he forgot about Erin and Felix and everything else. If she could just get him to look at her in the eyes, if she could just get him to look.

“I bet he d-died a-alone and a-afraid,” she growled through the taste of blood, the increasing pain, “I bet he s-suffered.” Let it all egg her on. “All because of...me.” She fell to her knees, still looking up at him, waiting, but he wouldn’t look into her eyes. If this was it, then maybe it was worth it. Maybe her life had meant something after all. God, Anita was going to be so mad at her. “What’d his head look like, in that bad? Was it r-rotted by the time it got to you?” She swallowed a mouthful of her own blood, grinned through the blue staining her teeth, her lips. “All because I sent the hunters after hi--” but she never finished. The crack! of her skull echoed in the warehouse, and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head as her body crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

Roy’s magic cup runneth over and Felix felt greedy. His shadowy skin sizzled as he stepped between light and shadow. It was a matter of time before he was meant to meet the sun. Today wouldn’t be that day. As for Erin and Marley, it wasn’t their time for the sun to set on either of them. They had been through too much, hemorrhaged out people as well blood. The thought of Jane dead alone in the wounds, what she might be had she not been bitten. The second attempt on Bea’s life and the thought of her wrist cold, still under his thumb. Erin’s home had been reduced to ash. Bones had been broken. If it could have, his inhuman shadow would have overtaken the room that had been their sanctuary. As much as they had plotted, they had laughed too. Shared toasts to victories and sat in silence at their losses. Erin’s scream and Marley’s wheezes had him crossing the great distance between him and Roy. If to burn meant victory, he would step into the light unphased.

The air was thick with magic as he waded through it. There was so much of it. He could see the blood trickling from Marley’s face when he crossed over to Roy, the way she went still. His hands grabbed the fext’s face and violently tugged his head over to look at him. Wide, unblinking moons stared into the depths of Roy’s eyes. The fae clawed his fingers into the fext’s human face and as Felix hissed through his teeth, he drank. His blood sang, his grin widened to something monstrous. It felt good to so readily take power from the powerful. To watch them wither.

“Look at me, Chambers,” he said as his eyes flashed. “I wanna see your fucking light go out.”

It was like all at once, Erin’s humanness caught up with her, handicapping her into a near useless form on the playing field. The same one she’d been a formidable player in, behind the scenes, moving the pieces up until now. Her strategies and her will meant shit all with Roy Chambers in front of her. When he set his gaze on her, the powerlessness and the pain was uncomparable. Like someone squeezing her skull, making sure that she felt every ounce of pressure being applied with every grating second that passed. Couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even hear herself screaming. This was it. Checkmate. It was over. This would all be fucking over--

Suddenly, with a jolt and a hard shove from the side, it stopped. It wasn’t over. Not yet. But--no. Marley. Her senses were slowly unclenching, but blurry as everything was, she could see Marley screaming at Roy, falling to her knees. Blinked again. Saw the blood dripping down her chin and the sickening crack that followed.

Marley’s body went limp.

He didn’t--he couldn’t have--no, no, she wasn’t--

Ice filled her veins and red filtered her vision. She wanted to howl and scream, to rush to Marley’s side. Wanted to rip his throat right from his goddamn neck. Felix had beat her to him. Almost instantly, he was rendered motionless, the glow brightening Roy’s face. The knife. Where the fuck was the knife? The red cloth filled her vision just up head. It wasn’t far. Hope struck like lightning in her chest. Gave her the strength to crawl forward, aching ribs bellowing in protest. But her fingers wrapped around the hilt. She could do this. She had to do this. She glanced at Marley, like she was waiting for her to move, to get up, to keep fighting. She wouldn’t--couldn’t. Erin grit her teeth and kept moving.

That bitch. She’d gotten what was coming for her. Tommy would’ve loved the way she fell to her knees, how her gaze gleaned over as her body slumped to the floor. Would’ve eaten his full of the woman. But the satisfaction that came with the crack of Marley’s skull was short-lived. From the depths of the shadows, Felix reared into view and all Roy could see was that intense light. Held firm in his grip, there was no avoiding it. Ensnared like a fawn in a hunter’s trap. He howled, a rage building in him like nothing he’d ever felt. He lashed out, dug his fingers into the lampade’s eyes, what little of his mind that was still tethered in place fighting back. But it was too late. He shed his glamour completely, his decomposing form paling beneath the rays of sun trickling in.

With a resounding, inhuman roar, like an animal gone feral, he hurled Felix back. Magic. He still had some of his magic left. Much of it had been devoured but there was enough of it coursing through his fingertips to finish the job. A swipe of his hand and another crate flew threw the air, slamming into the lampade to keep him down. He stood in front of him, the throws of exhaustion slowing him down. Every little exertion mattered. His hands rose up, slowly, burning with all the magic he had left. “You first,” he growled, though his lips curved into a wicked smile.

“Will you shut the fuck up, already?”

Roy perked at the voice just behind him and then stilled, completely, jerking still with a throaty groan. Not another word. Erin had sunk the knife into his throat, pulled it out, and dug into the soft flesh of his temple. She didn’t have a chance to linger on how good it felt when he grabbed her wrist. It snapped in half with one twist as he flung her off of him. She watched from the ground as he pulled it out, stumbling forward, practically disintegrating before her eyes. He was reaching for her, arms outstretched, but she couldn’t quite meet him in the eyes. Rage burned in those black voids, darker than anything she’d ever seen. Even now it horrified her, sending her clambering backwards. With a final step, he launched himself at Erin, the last of his skin peeling, melting to the floor. Grabbed her ankle, he hauled his rapidly decaying carcass forward, sheer will and pure, unadulterated hatred fueling those last moments on earth.

He knew his time had come but even now, he refused to accept it, desperately clinging onto this plane until his body no longer gave him a choice. His eyes locked on hers when he finally, finally stopped moving.

Felix could see it. The snap, the slight unhinge of the mind. The disconnect. It had been awhile since that old familiar thrill sat on his shoulder and grinned with him. It was a comfort to have one of his oldest friends back in his time of need. Even when Roy rounded on him, tossed him aside like something weightless, he felt grounded. Whatever magic Roy had coursed through the fae, who clutched his wounded stomach and wounded head yet still grit his teeth. He knew he would remember this, the moment when Roy’s lights went out and failure greeted him like a proverbial knife to the throat. As the fext withered and looked at Erin with the eyes of a man who knew he was dying, the fae snapped his fingers and laughed. He wanted it to be among the last sounds Roy heard.

As much as he would remember the fall of Roy Chambers, he would also remember the ones who had started it. Memories were a gift and he vowed to himself as he looked at Erin and Marley, that they would never be forgotten as centuries came and went. The weight against him fell away and he brought himself to stand on shaky feet. He could taste dark blood in his mouth and he blinked rapidly to right himself. Roy Chambers was nothing more than lifeless meat and bone. Bone that might be useful. Profitable. What better way to honor an enemy than by profit. He went to Marley and as he carefully assessed her head, he looked at Erin with dim eyes. Looked past the pile of flesh that rotted into the ground. It’d be impossible to thoroughly clean up.

“Didn’t really go according to plan, huh?” His voice was quiet and ragged. He didn’t smile. “It’s done and done but we gotta get her outta here, Nichols.”

Roy was dead. Erin sunk the blade in herself, twice, and his lifeless corpse sat rotting before her eyes. She kicked away the bony hand clutching her ankle. He was still again. Eyes glued to him, waiting, watching, like she was merely biding time before he spring back to life. When that moment didn’t come and Felix’s voice finally reached her, it took all she had to pry her eyes away. Glass crunched under her as she slowly pulled herself to her feet. Only then did she register the unnatural slack in her wrist and how it screamed in protest at the slightest movement. Her chest stung and every breath felt pricked like knifes against her ribs. Roy was dead. It was done. Felt like more than her brain could properly process, not when--Marley. Fuck. The icy fear that consumed her when she heard that sickening crack returned with a fury. They couldn’t stay here. Felix was right. Erin nodded, the world and most words not coming back to her as quickly as she needed it to. Roy was dead. It was the only thing truly processing, repeating over and over. As if she thought those three words long and hard enough, comfort or relief or anything would follow.

No, no--she didn’t have time for this. Marley didn’t have time for this. Felix wasn’t looking too hot himself but he probably fared better than either of them. “Can you drive?” She asked, rushing to Marley’s side. Still breathing. That was good. That was a good sign. Right? Fuck. Fuck. “Marley?” She called out to her, touching her cheek, willing her to wake up. Nothing. “You don’t get to tap out now, alright? You promised. We see this through to the end. Remember? You promised.” Dread built in her gut. She’d pushed her out of the way, took the blow. That could have been Erin. Should have been Erin.  

Roy was dead but that black fire still roared in her chest, as ugly and hot as ever as she helped Felix carefully lift her unconscious body. Panic swelled alongside fear, gripping her so hard she could barely breathe. Roy was gone and this had to be worth it. This all had to be worth it.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part fifteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part fifteen: The sun rises and it’s time to bring the herd home, but not before Dean reconnects with an old friend. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean & Rocko scene: ‘Road To Perdition’ - The City Of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. Final scene: ‘Ride’ - Hans Zimmer. Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: It’s about damn time, ain’t it? Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​ and @winchest09​ for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Slow hoofbeats, little rocks and earth crunching underneath the thousand pound animal. Surprisingly light on its feet, never disturbing the quiet, as it scours the land for the last grass of the season. Calm breaths, taking in over a gallon of oxygen with each inhalation, followed by a soft purring sound when the air is pushed out through the nose. The cold of the night lingers and the air condensates. The first glint of the sun catches the moist clouds coming from its nostrils, turning the fierce creature into a dragon. Kind eyes, calm when it’s safe, but scanning the environment nevertheless, always on the lookout for predators. Pointy ears, flitting back and forth independently, picking up even the smallest whisper, like two little space antennas scanning the sky. 

     Dean watches the herd from a distance, with Y/N still sound asleep in his arms. He can tell she’s exhausted, because she didn’t stir once in the past three hours. The cowboy made sure she was fully covered with the unzipped sleeping bag, holding her close to keep her warm. She seems so comfortable, so trusting; it humbles him. Apparently she’s completely at ease being so close, her self-consciousness burned away by his never ending adoration. Of course he noticed the hesitation when they all went for a swim yesterday evening. She wanted to disappear, covering herself with her arms crossed in front of her chest, her expression shameful. And then there was the insecurity just hours ago, her mind clearly spiraling when he couldn’t give her the confirmation she so desperately seeks. Dean wonders what happened for her to lack confidence. If she has some douchebag ex-boyfriend maybe, who didn’t treat her right. 

     Staying awake wasn’t any trouble overnight, because he had plenty to think about. He’s not the guy to analyse his every thought, he'd rather stuff it all down and ignore them all together. But spending several hours under the Yucca tree, in an embrace with the one person that has his mind reeling, left him no option. So many questions, so much doubt. He wishes he had more answers, he wishes he could have a glance into the future in order to tell if he’s on the right path. If he can make it work with her, if he can step up to become the man she’s looking for. If she will stay with him, even after the internship, because the thought of her leaving brings back an anxiety that he used to experience when his family threatened to fall apart, which is exactly what happened, eventually. He came to one conclusion, though; he’s not going to let her go. 

     His gaze remains absently fixed on the horses, who have moved a few hundred yards closer. The oldest stallion of the herd had spotted the wranglers about an hour ago, but after careful observation decided that they weren’t a threat. It’s a beautiful sight, beams peeking over the mountain range, framing the horses’ silhouettes with gold. Small bugs twirl in the air like fireflies, surrounding the large animals. Dean squints and tips his head forward when the rising sun becomes brighter. The warmth is welcome; he hasn’t moved an inch over the past hours, not wanting to wake Y/N, causing the cold to settle in his bones. 

     A new dawn means they’ve got work to do and Dean is left no choice but to wake the heavy sleeper. The arrival of morning does the job for him, however; even with her eyes closed, the light seeps through. It triggers her to turn into him and hide her face in the crook between his shoulder and his chest. Y/N grunts, disagreeing with the time, and Dean sniggers. He’s not much of a morning person either, but his intern takes the cake.      “Mornin’, Yankee.”       She opens one eye and looks up, meeting an amused yet adoring smile.       “Morning…” Groggy, she rubs her face with the back of her hand. “Five more minutes?”      “You’ll miss the view,” Dean says, nodding at the horizon.

     His eyes reflect the scenery he’s beholding, the colors vibrant as the sun hits them just right, adding amber to the jade in his irises. It peaks her interest, and Y/N turns her head to face the new day. Only leaving a crack for the light to pass her long lashes, she takes in the mesmerizing scenery. On the edges of her vision, a darker shade of blue transitions into a lighter one, the tones changing from cold to warm as they enclose the sun. Cirrus clouds catch the first rays, curling across the sky like wisps of silk hair. From cobalt to pale turquoise, from apricot to saffron. The painter of this picture used every color on the spectrum. And smack in the middle, the sun rises. So bright, she seems to be aware that planets orbit around her. The Superstition Mountains stand proud and tall in the south, the peaks catching the early light, making the volcanic formations seem blood orange, as if lava is erupting from the earth once again. 

     The herd is only a couple of hundred yards away now, grazing calmly. They don’t seem to  be aware of the humans sitting on the top of the hill, almost as if Y/N is in a cinema, watching a gigantic movie screen. It would explain the idyllic Wild West decor, because such magic can only be created with CGI in a Hollywood studio. But they are here. Y/N can smell the air, sweet and earthy. She can hear the wind rustling small bushes and blowing gently through the canyons. She can feel Dean, the warmth radiating from his large form that has enveloped her.       “It’s breathtaking,” she says softly, leaning into him.      He places a soft kiss on her hair, and she smiles, content.       “Thanks for letting me sleep.”      He shrugs it off. “You needed it. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”      Y/N sits up and rolls her neck to loosen her muscles.       “It’s going to be intense, isn’t it?” she guesses, getting to her feet.      “I’d call it adventurous and exciting,” Dean chuckles, stretching his back now that he can move freely again. “Just like the old spaghetti westerns, y’know? Well… without the gun slinging and bounty hunts. It’ll be awesome, trust me.”

     Y/N sniggers, strolling around the Yucca tree to meet her horse. She finds it cute how the tough cowboy, who’s closing in on thirty, is beaming like a little kid. After ruffling Joplin’s mane, she takes a small case from one of the saddlebags, which holds her toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. She has found a new level of appreciation for these simple products of hygiene, given that she has been stripped from luxury and has to do with the absolute necessary. Especially since she’s not just kissing Dean in her dreams these days.

     Looking forward to the day on his doorstep, Dean pulls his radio phone from the front saddlebag, turning it on and twisting the knob to find the channel.      “Benny? Come in?”      He lets go of the PTT button, the device beeping once when he does, then it’s quiet for a moment. Mirroring Y/N’s actions, he one handedly fishes out his toothbrush as well, but when his friend doesn’t respond, he pushes the talk button again.      “You better get your lazy ass out of bed, Lafitte. Gotta bring the horses in.”      Dean clips the radio to his belt. He has brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth and cleaned his face by the time the farrier replies.      “Good mornin’ to you too, Chief.”      Dean grins at the slightly cynical tone of the Southerner. He pushes the button again, moving the speaker closer to his mouth.       “We’re with the herd, on Black Top Mesa, close to Dutchman’s Trailhead. Ya’ll ready to move?”      “Sure am, just cooking up some breakfast to go. Do you want some or did you already eat out?”

     Y/N has never timed taking a sip of water worse, because it comes out through both her mouth and nose. Dean stares at her mortified before he snaps the walkie talkie to his mouth.      “She can hear ya, you jackass!” he returns, his voice higher than he anticipated.      “Oh, I bet she can.”      The head wrangler shuts his eyes and cringes, turning away from Y/N to hide his red face. His free hand goes for his belt loop first, then rubs the back of his neck, before wiping the sweat on the denim of his jeans. Shit, this is embarrassing.       “I - I - We… You know what? I don’t owe you an explanation,” he hisses into the radio phone.      “I’m just saying, brother, if you haven’t yet, it’s gonna take us at least forty five minutes to get to ya, so--”      “- Over and out, Benny!”

     Quickly, he turns the device off, breathes out, and scoffs. That son of a bitch. Dean isn’t sure how he’s going to make Benny pay just yet, but he will taste his wrath. He carefully glances over his shoulder to check on Y/N, who he finds with her hand clasped over her mouth, trying her very best to contain her giggles.      “You think that’s funny, huh?” he mutters, flustered.      She laughs warm and hearty, wiping tears from her eyes as she approaches the cowboy.      “You don’t need enemies with friends like him, that’s a given,” she chuckles.

     He glances at her, his mouth pulling into a smile. She can spot a hint of relief, now that he knows she’s taking it well, but blood still warms his cheeks, making his freckles invisible. It amazes her every single time how all that confidence washes away once he loses direction. Benny was just teasing him, Dean must be aware of that. Besides, it’s not like the green eyed wrangler to take things easy, as he said so himself, so it’s not strange his Southern friend figured he covered at least a couple of bases overnight. She can feel a blush add color to her face as well, when the thought crosses her mind. Honestly, she too silently hoped he would have gone ‘down that road’. 

     “Well, unfortunately he assumed wrong,” she addresses boldly, taking the collar of his stockman coat gently between her thumb and index finger, reeling him in. “But he was right about them taking at least forty five minutes to get here.”      Stunned eyes flick over her features, wondering if he’s imagining things or if she really just gained the confidence he’s lacking at this very moment. Once again she blows him off his feet with her newfound assertiveness, like she does every so often. Shit, she’s sexy when she takes the lead like that.       “He sure was,” he returns, his hands now moving to her waist.      “I know we agreed to take it easy,” she tilts her head slightly, folding her arms around his neck now. “So what should we do with all that time?”

     Dean smirks at her from under his hat, shaking his head amused without breaking eye contact. What a tease. He couldn’t resist her to save his own life. Her radiance is brighter than the rising sun behind her. The pull he’s experiencing, the level of attraction, it’s so strong; he knows he’s going to have a tough time sticking to his boundaries. He has to, though, he has to do right by her. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a little fun along the way.      “I got a few ideas,” he implies.      Before Y/N knows it, the strong wrangler lifts her up, pulling a squeal from within her, followed by a fit of giggles. He adjusts his grip when she folds her legs around his middle, smothering her sly grin with a sweet kiss. The low chuckle that escapes his throat sounds both gentle and gruff, adding to the wholesome sensation that fills her chest.       By the Yucca tree, he lowers himself to the ground, still holding the cowgirl in his arms until she has found her balance and straddles his lap, a knee buried in the gravelly sand on either side of him. The intimate connection strengthens as they get lost in the moment, the laughs dying down, eyes falling shut. 

     Dean lets his fingers wander over the fabric of her clothes, tracing the lines of her neck, her spine, the curves of her hips. Feeling no pressure that this needs to lead somewhere right now calms him, because even though it’s proven to be difficult to keep their hands off each other, he knows she will give him the space he needs and, despite this little tease, she respects him more than he respects himself.       He makes a little mental note when she whimpers, as he continues to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of her mouth, down her throat and her collarbone. Dean might not go down on the beautiful cowgirl today, but he will remember the little touches that make her sigh and squirm. 

     Their agreement to take it slow, combined with Benny’s remark, sparked something new. Since their first kiss, she has been willing, eager for more, but now that what she wants is just out of reach, she finds it difficult to control herself. He can tell in the way she touches him, the audible breaths that reach his hearing when their mouths aren’t sealed together, the longing in her eyes when she opens them for a brief second. Dean never thought he would say it, but taking their time might have an advantage he hadn’t considered before. Teasing him, tempting her… it’s an interesting way to pass the time. Making each other wait might feel like a torturous game right now, but when the moment does arrive for them to take things to the next level, it’s going to be something else. And just like that, the bachelor who didn’t waste a second to get around with so many women, doesn’t mind waiting for the one.

     The two lay together for at least half an hour, making out like teenagers. Sweet touches, cute giggles, all smiles. If they could freeze time, they would. But when Dean glances north and notices the dust clouds coming from La Barge Canyon, they have to interrupt the intimacy; Benny and the others are on their way.

     Five minutes later, Dean shrugs off his long coat, now that the sun has cast out the crisp of the night. He folds it up tightly and stuffs it into one of his saddlebags. Y/N has already mounted Joplin, at home in the Tucker trail saddle. The mare didn’t entirely awaken from her slumber apparently, because for once in her life, she stands still and doesn’t bounce around impatiently like a bronc in the holding box at the rodeo. Her rider has her wrists crossed on the horn, the reins casually between her fingers, as she stares at the herd ahead.       “That’s the leader, isn’t it?” she says.

     Dean turns his head, looking at the dark bay horse, who stands between them and his congeners. The animal stares back, ears perked forward, one of them flicking back to the herd every now and them. The stallion observes him carefully, he doesn’t seem entirely sure how to deal with the presence of humans. He’s alert, ready to bolt and take his herd to safety, yet at the same time curious. Understandable, because these youngsters spent most of their life living as feral horses, only seeing men when they were moved from the reservation to the large winter pastures closer to the ranch, and back to the mountains when spring was around the corner.       “Yeah, seems like it,” Dean confirms, watching the beautiful creature.      He returns his gaze to the task at hand, tying the sleeping bag behind Ted’s saddle, but then realization hits him. Wait a minute, is that…? The wrangler turns to face the interested horse again, who is looking at him from about two hundred yards away, like he seems to recognize the cowboy as well.      Y/N glances from the wrangler to the horse and back. “Dean?”

     But he doesn’t respond, slowly stepping away from Ted, narrowing his eyes to see better. The horse’s mane grew long, his forelock covering his face, the black hair growing all the way down to his nose, but a hint of a blaze still visible through the curtain. Dark brown eyes take Dean in as the stallion waits, so still that one could mistake him for a statue, save the wind playing with his tail. The low vegetation hides the white markings on his legs, so the wrangler can’t tell for sure. It can’t be. He couldn’t have grown that big, he wouldn’t be the alpha, he reminds himself. But besides the horse’s size and rank within the herd, there’s nothing that indicates the animal, isn’t him. 

     Dean moves his hand to his mouth, pressing the tabs of his thumb and index finger together, creating a circle, before he places them on his lips. He inhales and whistles sharply. The sheer, high-pitched sound moves across the land, reaching ears miles away. The ears the whistle was meant for, pick up the unique sound too and instantly the caution and doubt in the horse’s stance is gone. He neighs back, loud and strong, confirming Dean’s suspicion.      “Well, I’ll be damned…” he breathes.      “You two know each other?” Y/N wonders.      Dean beams. “Yeah, we go way back.”

     He leaves Ted and Y/N on top of the hill, carefully making his way down the slope without spooking the feral horse. But the stallion doesn’t feel threatened anymore, now that he recognizes Dean. He jogs up to him, taking a few more steps before he halts. Friendly eyes take in the wrangler, his nostrils flaring when Dean tentivally reaches, picking up his scent. As a content smile spreads across Dean’s face, he lets his fingertips brush the horse’s nose, soft as velvet. He takes another step, gliding the palm of his hand up his jaw now, to his cheek and then down his neck, following the flow of the horse’s dark hair. The short summer coat has already partly been replaced, now that the cold of winter will arrive in a month or so.       Last time Dean saw him, he was barely two years old. A youngster, a boney juvenile, who was a tad small. Obviously the fellow needed more time. That’s why the wrangler gave his horse another year to grow. It worked out well, because look at him now.      “Hey, bud,” Dean says softly, ruffling the horse’s mane. “You got big.”

     From a distance, Y/N watches the reunion. She doesn’t know the whole story, but the connection between man and animal is unmistakably strong. They have a place in each other’s hearts and even though they have been apart for a while, that didn’t change. The leader of the herd, who one would expect to be dominant, accepts a human touch without hesitation. It’s an unusual response for a horse who has lived off the grid for years. 

     Warmth fills her chest, a smile on her lips, similar to the one Dean carries. It’s incredible to witness him around the animals that captivate them both. She has enjoyed his interactions many times before, watching him handle them on the ground, seeing him ride. Always kind, always respectful. He has a way with horses that is special. Her grandfather would have said he’s gifted. He also would have given her a thumbs up. Grandpa always offered wise words, often followed by silence, the quiet giving them even more strength. One of his sayings comes to mind: You can judge a man’s character by the way he treats his horses. Well then, if that’s a given, then Dean is definitely one of the kindest and most loving souls she has come across.

     The wrangler rubs the stallion’s shoulder, before he slowly turns around. He tries to beckon the beautiful dark horse with a simple shoulder movement, using only body language to invite the large animal to follow him. After a moment of hesitation, during which the stallion glances at his herd and back at his human, he follows. No rope, no pressure, no constraint, but free will. It’s hard to miss the pleased expression on Dean’s face when he looks up at the cowgirl, who still watches from Joplin’s back.      “I know country boys aren’t known for manners, but aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” she jokes.

     The stallion stops at the bottom of the small hill, aware that as the leader of his group, he still has a task to fulfill. He stands tall, checking on the herd, the autumn breeze catching his tangled mane, folding his tail around his hind legs. He looks almost mythical.      “His name is Rock N’ Roll.” Dean takes him in, proudly. “But he goes by Rock’o.”      “Is he yours?” she asks, curiously.      The wrangler nods. “I was there when he was born. He had a rough start in life. I bottle fed him the first couple of months.”      Amazed, she smiles at him. “No wonder you two are close.”             He returns her expression, taking a moment to absorb the image of both the woman who is conquering his heart, and his horse who already claimed it years ago.       “It’s gonna be much easier to bring in the herd with him on our side,” Dean says, moving to Ted’s left side, after which he puts his foot in the stirrup and swings the other over the saddle. “We have to handle it delicately, but he trusts me.”      “You think he will follow you?” Y/N assumes, keeping Joplin on the spot, who seems to have woken up from her nap, now that Dean mounted his horse as well.      “No, but he will keep the herd together. It's a misconception that the stallion leads the group. They are usually in the rear, driving up stragglers,” Dean explains.

     The head wrangler glances over his shoulder at the growing dust cloud, an indication that Benny and the rest of the crew are closing in. Within a minute, he spots the four riders and their pack horses coming over the hill. The mischievous grin on the Southerner’s face can be spotted from far away.      “Had a nice mornin’ ride, Chief?” he nags under his breath, once he has joined the two riders.      Dean shoots him a glare, his fiery green eyes demanding him to shut up without using actual words. Y/N heard the farrier, however, and no one is prepared for the comeback.      “Oh, we didn’t have time. Forty-five minutes isn’t nearly enough for what I had in mind,” she counters casually.

     Dean snorts, caught by surprise, while Benny cocks his head at the intern, staring at her bug-eyed. Y/N doesn’t give the the blue-eyed cowboy another second of her attention and leads her horse to Ted, her fingertips briefly touching Dean’s thigh as she passes him, before she rides down the hill, her head held high.      Amused, the head wrangler waits for his friend to catch the wide grin on his face, which he does once Benny snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head sniggering, his laugh rumbling deep and low in his chest.      “Brother, you are in way over your head,” he states. “She’s a pistol.”      Dean admittingly raises his brow, nodding in agreement while watching her ride off.      “She sure is.” 

     “Yah!”      In full gallop Y/N speeds up along the left flank of the herd, directing the horses back to a compact group every time they fan out. Benny and Macy are leading, Dean tailing, while Brad and Jon cover the right side. The head wrangler wasn’t lying when he said that it was going to be exciting, because she feels like she’s living a Wild West fantasy. 

     Joplin has her ears in her neck as she sprints away, cutting off two stallions who fan out. Her rider doesn’t even have to give a signal, the feisty dark mare knows exactly what to do. Even though she is smaller than the others, she stands her ground and didn’t think twice when one of the juvenile stallions took an interest in her. With a squeal and a firm kick she made clear not to mess with her, her zero-tolerance attitude keeping them at a safe distance. Y/N had a hunch Joplin was good at the job, otherwise Dean wouldn’t have chosen the strong minded horse for his intern, but she didn’t expect her partner to be this fierce. Unflagging, focussed, and fast as a bullet. It’s an absolute thrill to work with her.

     They pursued the herd into O’Grady Canyon, the higher cliffs on both sides helping the wranglers keep them together. They passed the rock formations of Tim’s Saddle and Dean and Y/N briefly exchanged a look and a smile as they crossed the small creek. Revisiting the place where they shared their first kiss only two days ago feels special, that night’s energy still in the air. So much has happened since, and yet their journey has only just begun. 

     After a quick drinking pause, they continued, before the herd could fall apart. Some of the animals are restless, while others follow a lot more calmly. Using horses instead of dirt bikes or even a helicopter is a lot less stressful for the feral animals, but being chased makes them nervous nonetheless. Rocko’s laid back attitude towards the humans keeps the panic in the herd contained to a minimum, though. 

     Thankfully, the weather is working in their favor for a change. A cool breeze is sweeping across the terrain and swishing through the canyons, keeping the temperature from rising to the heights it reached in the past couple of days. It’s a good thing the conditions are a lot more tolerable, because the riding is intense. The wind, together with the stampede, does kick up a lot of sand, engulfing the wranglers in clouds of earthy particles. Dean, being at the back of the herd, has pulled his neckerchief over his nose, keeping the dust from entering his lungs. 

     Halfway through the afternoon, the wranglers have managed to guide the group of horses safely down the slopes on the east banks of the Superstitions. A time consuming detour, but crossing the mountains without a herd is challenging enough, not to mention with over a dozen wild animals added to the clan. After descending the much smoother slopes for hours on end, the canyon functioning as a tunnel and relieving the pressure from the riders, the walls on either side fan out. Before them lays the valley, the small town of Gold Canyon in the far distance to the west, the sun edging towards it as the day begins to close in on the night. 

     “Yankee!”      It’s Dean who gets her attention, his voice rising above the sound of the stampede. Y/N turns in the saddle while she continues to follow the movement of her horse with her hips. Behind her, three young stallions have wandered away from the group in a matter of seconds. Joplin hasn’t noticed them yet, fixed on holding the flank ahead, but when her rider moves her hand to the left, she rolls away like a fighter jet. The little dark mare needs no encouragement and is at full speed within five strides, shooting across the terrain at a speed of forty miles an hour. Y/N has bent over Joplin’s neck, staying low in order to increase the aerodynamics. The fast rhythmic sound of hoofbeats tremor the ground, the wind rushes in her ears and drags tears from the corners of her eyes. The two cut off the youngsters, redirecting them back to the herd like they have been doing this together for years. Y/N’s partner in crime pushes her ears back and snaps her teeth, not so kindly advising the horses to hurry it up or else, triggering her rider to grin at her feisty character. Once the three join the others, the cowgirl lets out a cheer, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dean was absolutely right, this is just like a spaghetti western. 

     They ride along the promontory of the mountains to their right, roughly following the Lost Goldmine trail. By the time the company passes a volcanic remnant called Turk’s Head, the sky begins to change, adding orange to the blues. A glance at her old watch tells her it’s 5.10 PM. Three days ago she kept feeling her back pocket for her phone whenever she needed to know the time, or felt the urge to check her messages, but not having her Iphone with her turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Who would want to stare at a screen and miss all the good stuff? 

     Ted’s strides are long and consistent, not a trace of fatigue noticeable with the bay gelding. From behind the group, Dean should have a good overview, if it wasn’t for the dust clouds obstructing his vision. The small particles cling to his skin, his lashes, the fabric of his clothes. He can still see the boys holding their ground well on the right, the steep slopes running up into the peaks of the Flatiron assisting them, working as a funnel. Benny and Macy are keeping a good pace; if they continue at this speed, they will be home before dinner. Y/N is doing outstanding on the other flank, forming a dream team with eager little Joplin. Thankfully, Dean has eyes up ahead, because the radio on his belt begins to crack.      “Two miles to go, Chief!”      Dean takes the radio phone and presses the PTT button before he answers.      “Let’s bring them home, brother.”

     With his thumb he twists the channel nob, switching to number four, before he calls in again. They should be within the perimeter now. “Bobby, do you read me?”      It’s quiet for a moment, but then the static breaks.      “Loud and clear, son.”      The head wrangler smiles, glad to be delivering good news after three days and nights filled with nerve wrecking moments. Treacherous terrain, suffocating heat. Drought, snakes, minor injuries.       “We’re comin’ in hot. Thirty minutes.”      “The gates are open. I’ll tell Ellen to put the casserole in the oven.”      Dean’s mouth begins to water when his aunt’s famous dish is mentioned. No disrespect to Benny, but after all that canned food, he can’t wait to sink his teeth into that delicious corn, beef, and onion stocked, stomach filling meal.      “In that case, I’ll make it twenty. Over.”      “We’re ready for ya. Over and out.”

     The head wrangler hooks the radio back on his belt and glances aside. Rocko is galloping about thirty yards to his left, ahead by a few nose lengths. Sweat shimmers on his neck and shoulders, his dark bay coat almost black now. With big, powerful strides he pushes forward like a steam train, yet agile, maneuvering past rocks, cacti, and bushes. Even untrained, he has grown into a strong horse. Dean can’t wait to work with him. To strengthen that bond even more, to teach him. Watching the stallion by his side and under Dean’s wing as it were, fills him with pride already. It’s at this moment that Dean realizes; this horse is going to be something else.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part sixteen here

[obvious-captain-rogers]

For Evan Buckley Week: Day Five! I saw comfort in the prompt and immediately thought of the Buckley parents and Buck’s relationship with them vs. the Firefam so enjoy Buck’s childhood trauma

Prompt: “You’re a good liar” + comfort

               Buck’s morning started out pretty nicely. He’d woken up, gone through his morning routine, and headed off to work with enough time to be able to stop by the new café that had popped up not too far from the station. He and Hen had been talking about stopping in there sometime, but Buck wasn’t exactly known for his immediate alertness after waking up- when he was on a long shift at work being an exception to that rule. He’d decided to just go ahead and grab coffee for everyone, knowing their usual coffee orders and preferences by heart already.

           So he had a spring to his step when he walked into the station with the coffee carrier balanced in one hand and his duffle bag in the other. He changed into his uniform quickly and was whistling as he hopped up the last few stairs into the loft.

           “Someone’s awfully chipper this morning,” Chimney said from where he was glaring daggers at how slowly their coffee maker was spitting out coffee.

           “I don’t know, I’ve just got a good feeling about today,” Buck said with a shrug before setting down the coffee carrier. “They’re all marked. I picked them up for everyone on the way in,” Buck said and snagged his and Eddie’s cups from the carrier before taking a step back.

           “Have I told you that I love you?” Chimney asked and Buck let out a bright laugh as Chimney and Hen came over to grab their own cups.

           “Not recently, no,” Buck said and grinned as he took a sip of his coffee. “Should I be telling my sister that you’ve decided to try your luck with the other Buckley?”

           Chim snorted as he lifted his drink out of the carrier. “In your dreams, Buckaroo,” Chimney teased before taking a sip.

           “Every night,” Buck teased back with a cheeky wink that had Chimney and Hen laughing despite the previous early-morning funk that had been settled over them.

           “This from the new place?” Hen asked as she just held onto the paper cup with a content smile.

           “Yeah,” Buck said and moved to sit at the table so he could stretch out his leg. He settled Eddie’s cup in the open spot next to him and took another drink of his coffee. “Thought since I had some time I could swing by and pick up something.” Buck frowned as he looked around. “Bobby not in yet?”

           “He’s in his office,” Hen said with a nod towards that direction. Buck nodded and he stood, leaving his and Eddie’s coffees on the table, before grabbing Bobby’s and heading into his office.

           Bobby was on the phone- his office phone- when Buck came in, so Buck just settled the coffee onto the desk with a small smile. Bobby gave him a short nod and smile in response before he had to turn back to the conversation on the other end of the line.

           Buck walked out and he grinned to see Eddie was up in the loft now, sitting beside the chair Buck had been in just a minute before, as he chatted with Hen. Buck made his way over and sat back down, nudging Eddie’s cup closer silently. Eddie grinned, glancing at Buck for a moment, before keeping up with the thread of his and Hen’s conversation.

           Bobby had come out of his office and was about to start breakfast when the bell rang with a call. They all hopped up and made their way down to the truck, ready to start their day.

…..

           Buck was washing the soot from his face and trying in vain to get the ash out of his hair when his cellphone started buzzing in his pocket. He dried his hands quickly and tugged it from his pocket, frowning when a number he only vaguely recognized lit up his screen. He thumbed the accept button and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”

           “Evan.” Buck nearly dropped his phone into the sink at hearing his mother’s voice. He felt like his blood had frozen in his veins. The casualness to his mother’s tone made Buck’s skin crawl. She was acting like they talked every day instead of the huge gaps that could span nearly a year. “I was calling on behalf of your father.” Buck felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth and he couldn’t make himself speak. But it didn’t matter because his mother’s voice bulldozed along. “He’s been sick, son. He wants to see you and Madeliene.”

           “I can’t just pick up and go to Hershey. I have a job,” Buck said and scrubbed a hand over his face.

           “And what if he’s dying?” His mother asked sharply and Buck flinched despite knowing that there was no way that a blow could come across the phone. “You wouldn’t come see your dying father, Evan?”

           “That’s not what I said,” Buck protested weakly. He hunched his shoulders and ducked his head.

           “You should come home and see him,” Buck’s mother said firmly before abruptly hanging up the phone. Buck took a shaky breath as he listened to the dull tone at the other end of the line. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

           “Whoa, sorry, Buck. Bobby sent me to come get you so he could show you how to cook something other than eggs,” Chim said and held up his hands. He glanced over Buck’s face as Buck hastily shoved his phone into his pocket. “Everything okay?”

           Buck let out a laugh that was just a little flat and put on a huge smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He bumped his shoulder against Chimney’s like he normally would. “I should go help Bobby, wouldn’t want my cooking skills to get rusty.” He stuck his tongue out playfully at Chimney despite the way his stomach was roiling.

           “It’s pretty hard to fuck up eggs,” Chimney laughed and gave him a brotherly shove. “Go on, then. Just don’t burn anything, alright? I’m pretty hungry.”

           “Got it,” Buck said before heading upstairs to the loft so he could help Bobby out. He forced himself to act normal despite the block of ice that had settled in his stomach, slowly leaking out so that all he felt was cold and vaguely numb.

           He was right in the middle of listening to Eddie telling a story about Christopher’s science class, when his phone rang again. He hesitantly pulled it out of his pocket but was relieved to see Maddie’s name. “Sorry, it’s Maddie,” Buck said to Bobby before stepping away from the kitchen and heading outside to take the call. “Hey,” Buck said once he’d accepted the call and was standing behind the station, his back pressed against the rough brick.

           “Did she call you?” Maddie asked, her voice a little worried.

           “Yeah,” Buck breathed out and closed his eyes. “She did.”

           “I’m so sorry, Buck,” Maddie said and Buck shook his head.

           “It’s not your fault.” Buck sighed. “So what do you want to do?” He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. There was a long silence between them.

           “I don’t know,” Maddie whispered. They both sat on the line for a little bit, not really talking. “You’re on a shift, I should let you go. We can… maybe we can talk it over tonight?”

           “It’s movie night tonight,” Buck said, not willing to let his parents disrupt the one thing that brought him more happiness than anything else: the Diaz boys. “But tomorrow.”

           “Alright.” Maddie told him goodbye and he echoed it back a little hollowly before hanging up and letting his head fall back with a thud.

           He took a few more moments to compose himself before he put on his normal friendly smile and bounded back up to the loft to finish helping Bobby.

…..

           Chimney scowled over at Buck as Buck was prying open the door of an SUV in their third car crash of the day. They’d been at back-to-back calls since right after actually getting to eat lunch and they were all starting to feel the strain of it.

           “I thought you said you had a good feeling about today,” Chimney murmured as he stepped in to check the vitals of the driver.

           “It’s not an exact science, Chim,” Buck said as he hefted up the jaws and moved to go over to the other car where Eddie was shoving all his weight onto the crowbar to little effect. He pushed away the tinny version of his mother’s voice on the phone, he didn’t have time to think about any of that. “Need a hand?” Buck asked and Eddie huffed out a laugh before Buck passed the jaws off to him and went to go and help Chim and Hen get the patient from the SUV and onto the waiting gurney.

           “Cap’s already radioed for another ambulance, but we’ve gotta go,” Hen said and patted Buck’s shoulder once they’d loaded up their patient and Buck had closed the doors.

           “Sure thing,” Buck nodded and he jogged over to where Eddie had extracted the other driver. Eddie was going over his injuries and doing what he could with his limited supplies, but something about the picture made Buck freeze up. A man dying. A man that vaguely- if you squinted a little- resembled his father. Eddie’s head jerked up and he pointed at the car.

           “There’s a kid in the back seat,” Eddie said firmly, and Buck jerked into action and walked over to see the little girl still in her booster seat but surrounded by glass and twisted metal. Buck was surprised that she wasn’t more hurt, but she looked absolutely petrified.

           “Hey,” Buck said after he’d managed to wiggle his way through the blown-out window so he could get a good look how to get her out. “My name is Buck, what’s your name?” Buck asked gently as he twisted to see if he could get to the seatbelt.

           “Leah,” she said with tears streaking down her cheeks and making her voice tremble.

           “I’m going to get you out of here, alright?” Buck made sure to keep his voice even and calm as he tried to pull the seatbelt from the latch. He frowned a little when he was sure she couldn’t see his face and then put a smile as he ducked into her line of sight. “I need to run out and grab some shears to cut you out of here, can you be brave for just one more minute?” She looked unsure as she curled her fingers into the arm of his turnout jacket. “You’ve already been so brave, Leah. I promise you I’m coming right back.”

           “Okay,” she said and her voice wavered as she slowly eased her grip on Buck’s coat.

           Buck crawled out through the same window he’d come in and ran to the truck to get the things he needed. “What’s the situation?” Bobby asked, joining Buck on his jog back to the car.

           “Young girl trapped in her booster seat. I got in through the window, but I’m not sure she can come out that way. There’s too many broken edges of glass and metal.” Buck reported.

           Bobby looked over the car and then clapped Buck on the back. “Let’s break out that back windshield and I’ll lay down my jacket so you can hand her off.”

           So once Buck had gotten her cut out of her booster seat, he covered her with his turnout jacket while Bobby broke the window and laid out his own coat. Buck lifted her carefully and together he and Bobby got her out and handed off to the paramedics.

           “Good job,” Bobby said and clapped a hand down on Buck’s shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Buck felt a small flicker of pride at Bobby’s obvious approval. It quickly soured when Eddie joined them without any hint of a smile on his face. “Let’s pack up and get out of the officers’ way,” Bobby said, sensing the obvious shift in atmosphere. The police had shown up to document the crash and talk to the by-standers.

           They did so in total silence and the ride back to the station was stilted until Eddie spoke, “That little girl’s dad is probably gonna be DOA.” His voice was mostly hollow but Buck could hear the undercurrent of anger in it. It made him squirm a little uncomfortably in his seat.

           “I’m sure you did everything you could, Eddie,” Buck said and he wanted to reach out, but he could see the tense set of Eddie’s shoulders and knew his partner wouldn’t appreciate the touch, and Buck wasn’t sure he was completely up to the task of giving comfort.

           “Sometimes, calls just can’t go our way,” Bobby said firmly, though there was a gentleness to the way it was phrased.

           “She couldn’t have been any older than Christopher,” Eddie said with a scowl.

           Buck bit his lip at that, unsure of what else to say. “We can’t take it personally,” Bobby said. “We’ve got to do what we can, when we can, and let the rest go. You did your best and that’s all that anyone can expect from you.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped a little but he didn’t seem any more relaxed than he had been when his shoulders had been up around his ears.

           “Right. Thanks, Cap.”

           Buck repressed a flinch at the clipped tone of Eddie’s voice. He turned his face out the window and tried desperately not to grimace.

…..

           Buck felt like most of the tension from the shift and his unexpected phone call melted away the second he pulled into the driveway of the Diaz household. He’d picked up beers for him and Eddie and popcorn for Christopher. He was smiling as he opened the door to the house and stepped inside.

           “Buck!” Christopher’s shout caught Buck somewhat off-guard and he flinched and nearly dropped the bag in his hands. Christopher didn’t seem to notice as he threw his arms around Buck’s waist and hugged him tightly.

           “Hey, Chris,” Buck said and ruffled Christopher’s hair gently. He handed the stuff in his hand off to Eddie, who frowned a little as he took Buck in, before nudging at Chris’s shoulders playfully. “You going to let me actually get inside, buddy?” Buck asked with a laugh.

           “Oh, yeah,” Christopher said and he dropped his arms from around Buck’s middle and he shuffled backwards to give Buck room to tug off his shoes and close the door behind him. “I picked a really good movie,” Christopher said with a huge grin that was already making Buck feel infinitely better.

           As the night went on, Buck got sucked into the familiar comfort of a movie night sandwiched between Christopher and Eddie. He helped clean up as Eddie flitted between the mess they’d made in the living room and where Christopher was getting ready for bed. Buck was rinsing out the beer bottles while Eddie read Christopher his bedtime story when he found himself zoning out a little. Not necessarily thinking about anything, just drifting.

           “Hey,” Eddie said, breaking Buck out of it, as he leaned his hip against the sink. “It’s pretty late, you wanna just take the guest room?” Eddie offered. Buck cracked a smile and nodded.

           “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’m beat.” Buck pushed a damp hand through his hair before rubbing at his temples.

           “Go ahead and get some sleep, I can finish up with these,” Eddie said and bumped their shoulders together.

           “Thanks,” Buck said and he shuffled his way down the familiar path to the guest room. He folded up his jeans and settled them on side table beside the lamp before slipping under the sheets. He thought that after everything that happened today he’d have trouble sleeping, but he must have been more tired than he’d thought because sleep came easily.

…..

           When he woke up it wasn’t in Eddie’s guest room but his childhood bedroom in Hershey. He remembered the blank light blue walls with the navy curtains and cool brown dresser set, none of which he’d had any say in. He shuddered as he sat up and the flat grey sheets pooled around his waist.

           He tossed the sheets aside and went over to the mirror that was hanging on the wall and he sucked in a sharp breath as he took in his reflection. He was younger than he’d been when he’d gone to sleep. He took in the soft curls and lack of any hint of stubble as well as how small he was. He looked like he had when he was sixteen and he felt something inside him tremble in fear.

           There was a polite knock on the door before his mother, the same colored curls as his own framing dark eyes like Maddie’s, poked her head in. “Evan, if you don’t quit lazing around you’re not going to be able to have breakfast before practice.” He glanced at the corner of his dresser where his track uniform and shoes were sitting, just like always.

           “How did I get here?” Buck asked and his voice was shaking.

           “What do you mean?” His mother asked, taking a step into his bedroom, her hand perched on her hip perfectly. “You live here, sweetheart.”

           “No,” Buck shook his head. “I live in L.A. I moved there years ago.” Buck sucked in a harsh breath and blew it out, continuing before he lost the thread. “I’m a firefighter with the 118 under Captain Bobby Nash. I work with Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, and Eddie Diaz.” Buck squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears burning at the corners. “Maddie is with me because she finally left Doug.”

           There was a pause and Buck opened his eyes, praying that he would have woken up, but his mother was still standing there and he was still in his room in Hershey. His mother took a step forward and cradled Buck’s face between her hands. “Oh, honey,” she said softly and stroked his hair back from his face. “You’re such a good liar. But you know we don’t allow that kind of behavior to happen under this roof.” Her perfectly manicured nails dug into Buck’s cheeks.

           With a jolt, Buck woke up in a cold sweat and feeling like he’d been running a marathon, his heart hammering in his chest and not able to catch his breath. He let out a broken sob as he scrambled for the bedside lamp, but before he could get it on, the door was opening and the hall light was filtering into the room.

           Eddie’s guest room.

           Buck could only cry harder from relief, pressing his hands against his face to try and muffle it. He didn’t want to wake Christopher, or scare him if he was already awake from Buck’s nightmare.

           “Buck, hey, what happened?” Eddie asked and Buck could feel him sit down on the edge of the bed.

           “I got out,” Buck said and he knew that he probably sound like he’d lost it, but part of him was crying from fear, but the other part was relief. “I’m in L.A.”

           “You’re in L.A.” Eddie rubbed his back soothingly despite obviously being confused. “It’s okay, Buck. You’re here at my house. You’re safe.” Eddie turned and wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulders and guided Buck’s head against his shoulder. Eddie shushed him before talking to him gently in Spanish, just like Buck knew he did when Christopher was really upset or scared. “Estás bien. No dejaré que nada te lastime. Estoy aquí.” Buck felt like he should be embarrassed that Eddie, who wasn’t really that much older than him, was treating him like his nine year old son, but the cadence of Eddie’s voice was soothing.

           “What’s going on?” Buck lifted his head from Eddie’s shoulder to see Christopher outlined in the light from the hall.

           “It’s okay,” Eddie said in the same soft tone he’d had since Buck had started crying. “I think Buck just had a bad dream, go back to bed.”

           “I can help,” Christopher said and shuffled over to the side of the bed.

           “Mijo,” Eddie started but Buck just shook his head, sniffing a little.

           “He’s okay,” Buck mumbled and wiped at his face.

           Eddie gave him an unsure look but didn’t argue. When Chris got to the side of the bed, Eddie lifted Christopher into his lap so he and Buck were somewhat level. “I had bad dreams too,” Christopher said and his mouth twisted up a little in the corner. “Daddy said it was okay to talk about them, but that I didn’t have too if it was too scary. Was your bad dream really scary?” Christopher asked as he reached out to play with Buck’s fingers.

           “Yeah,” Buck said quietly, and he gave Christopher’s hand a playful squeeze. “You’re lucky that you have such a smart dad, you know that?”

           “Yeah, he’s pretty great,” Christopher said and his bright smile as he tilted his head back to look at Eddie helped to ease Buck’s nerves. “Do you need a hug? Daddy gives the best hugs when I feel scared.”

           Buck let out a weak laugh and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I bet he does.” Christopher merely hummed and then squirmed out of Eddie’s lap and into Buck’s, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck and pressing his face against Buck’s shoulder. Buck let out a shuddering breath and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep any more tears from slipping down his face. He pressed his face into Christopher’s hair and gave him a light squeeze. “Thanks, Chris,” Buck sniffed as Eddie’s son pulled away.

           “You’re gonna be okay, kid,” Christopher said and used the sleeve of his pajama shirt to brush away the tears on Buck’s face.

           And that was more of a comfort than Buck could articulate.

           “Alright,” Eddie said and lifted Christopher off of Buck’s lap. “You need to get back in bed, buddy.” He gave Christopher’s shoulder a pat and Chris started out of the room. “I’m just gonna make sure he gets back into bed. You’ll be alright for a minute?” Eddie asked, his hand resting on Buck’s knee.

           “Yeah,” Buck nodded and he gave Eddie a watery smile. Eddie watched him with a conflicted expression. “Go on, I’m going to wash my face.” He knew that the salt would leave tacky spots on his skin and he was certain that his nose was going to start dripping soon. He shuffled across the hall to the bathroom and wiped his nose on a wad of toilet paper before running some cold water, pointedly not looking in the mirror as he splashed his face. He dried his skin off, just giving himself a moment to get his breathing back under control, and then made his way back to the guest room.

           After a while, Eddie came in with an extra pillow in his hand. “Christopher said that I needed to sleep in here since I let him sleep in my bedroom after he has a nightmare,” Eddie said with an amused tilt to his mouth. Buck couldn’t help but let out a slightly congested laugh.

           “Well then, we better follow orders,” Buck said and shifted to one side so that Eddie would have some room. Eddie grinned before tossing his pillow down and getting into bed with Buck. They were quiet for a while, the only noise the rustling of the sheets as they tried to settle.

           “You don’t have to,” Eddie started, his voice just barely above a whisper, “but if you wanted to talk about it, I want you to know that I’m here, Buck. I’m always here.”

           “I know,” Buck breathed and closed his eyes against the wash of emotions that threatened to choke him again. “Thank you, Eddie.”

           “Anytime.”

           “I’m not ready to talk about it just yet,” Buck admitted and squirmed a little.

           “Okay,” Eddie said and he didn’t sound disappointed or angry or upset. “Goodnight, Buck.”

           Buck let out a sigh of relief. “Goodnight, Eddie.”