#(also - kira's FACE she's s happy and excited I LOVE HER)

[walkingstackofbooks]

Ohh, I'd completely forgotten how Julian ends up going along with them in Battle Lines - just happening to be the one in the docking bay when Opaka shows up, following the rest of them around the station while they talk with Opaka, and then just standing there hoping to be included... I love him too much 😭😭

[thegeminisage]

for never have i ever: amnesia?

HIII thank you both <333

never have i ever written amnesia, believe it or not, even though i'm a HUGE fan, as in, it's my number one bestie. actually, no, i sort of have to take that back...i've lowkey written amnesia INTO larger stuff, but never an amnesia fic on its own. so there's been: a couple of da kmeme fills with fenris who has amnesia (they're lost to the sands of time now), ben originally had amnesia during his djinn dream in @cambionverse (but it got cut and revised), and i wrote derek as having amnesia about his encounters with jennifer in anchor. but not an Actual Amnesia Fic. every time i try to think about how i'd want to do it i sort of...blank out? there's so many ways to do it i get too excited and want to do all of them at once and then something else comes along and grabs my attention. i can't tell you how many times i tried to toss around a leverage amnesia fic and just couldn't settle anywhere.

so, just off the top of my head, as a thought experiment...i'd want it to be trek because that's what i'm into rn. i actually started to formulate this as a generations fixit (kirk in the nexus can't remember his old life/that he died/something something + spock and bones pull him out) but there's a small, small, SMALL chance i might ACTUALLY write a generations fixit (sans amnesia, sadly) so i don't want to do it here and accidentally make myself less likely to do it fr in the future.

my second choice is kira/odo because i have been thinking about them nonstop for a WEEK, possibly longer. since you can't have amnesia without brainwashing, i would have odo get mindwiped and carted back to the founders or whatever. and since it's my fic and i can do what i want odo remembers like, ds9's weak points and security routines but he doesn't remember any of the people or being friends with them. so he's like helping the bad guys do evil bad guy stuff or whatever and then when the good guys are almost beat they board the defiant and he and kira are fighting until she says something important and just as she's about to go down for good he oh my fucking god i'm just rewriting the winter soldier. god damn it. maybe this is the real reason i've ever done an amnesia fic. embarrassing. winter soldier wasn't the thing that introduced me to a love of brainwashed amnesiac assassins but it is the thing that made me crazy about them. ANYWAY. let me try again.

so odo gets his memories wiped so he'll return to that great collective or whatever. and he learns what it means to Be A Changeling. he can perfect the human face like that other evil changeling that i hate. so he doesn't look like odo anymore when he changes into a humanoid form, but also he doesn't do that because THEY only did that to communicate with him and kira, so he doesn't even NEED a humanoid form. and he's like yay im so happy here i love being a changeling :) except when somebody stumbles onto their asteroid or he needs to open a door or whatever requires a humanoid form...he just winds up becoming kira. and maybe he catches sight of his/kira's face in the reflection on the water or something and is like Whoa...who is That and that other changeling lady is like dw about it come back to the goop so he does but he also keeps insisting he can't have made that form w/o seeing her and he wants to know where. and since he's got such a good sixth sense about solving unsolved mysteries he solves his own mystery of who he is and how he got there. meanwhile the ds9 gang are searching EVERYWHEREEE for him and when they finally go check the asteroid odo goes out to meet them in kiraform and is very surprised to see. kira. and everybody else is like who tf is this why is this changeling pretending to be kira but kira knows Right Away it HAS to be odo and so they recognize each other even when they aren't able to recognize each other, which is basically the same thing that happened when they met. and odo either intimidates that other changeling into giving his memories back or he remembers on his own and they leave together and live happily ever after.

WHEW. you guys thought you were throwing me softballs but i was sweating bullets over that thing. kiraodo winter soldier au would be fun as hell though don't lie

[ASK MEME]

[slayer537]

IMAGINE: attending a ceramics class with your comfort character(s)

(Prompt by @yumecentral on Twitter)

Warning: yume-ship with Kira

Finally the day that Kira teaches Jenna how to make ceramics for the first time has come. The idol had been busy with his work for several weeks and would come back home too tired to do much. HEAVENS had a concert recently to celebrate their 10th anniversary. Now Kira had a few days for a break and had time to give a ceramics lesson for his darling. He gave her a smock to protect her clothing and they began.

Jenna sat down in front of the spinning table with a small block of clay on top already prepared. Kira was on the other side so he could watch and instruct her.

"What do you... want to make?" he asked.

"Hmm..." she thought briefly. "I always wanted to make a vase so we can put flowers in it. I know we already have some in the house, but I love flowers too much."

"Let's start with something simpler... It's your first time... after all."

"Oh right. Then how about a coffee mug?"

Kira nodded. He started the spinning table and explained how to make the opening of the cup. Jenna used her left thumb to make a small opening at first. It was harder than expected but some water on her thumb helped to soften and moisturize it. There was a water bowl next to her to wet her fingers. As the opening got larger, she could use her other fingers to help.

Kira was impressed at how it was going so far. "You're doing really well... so far. But don't worry... if it breaks... we can try again."

"It's thanks to your teaching, seeensei," she said with a slight tease. Kira didn't show it but he was really happy to be teaching his angel his favorite hobby.

"You can also use this to help." He gave her a circular tool that would smooth out the opening. The edge of tool would make sure the opening was round and even. "Make sure the opening... is moisturized enough... or else it would be very brittle." Jenna understood and did so.

Once the shape of the cup was mostly formed, the next step was to smooth the edges with a cloth tanned of deer skin. Moving next to her right, Kira showed her how to hold it and held her hand as the cloth touched the inner edge of the cup. From how physically close they were at the moment, Jenna couldn't help but be reminded of his scene in Love Affair when you and him make a plate together. It made her heart beat so quickly that they were reenacting that same scene.

"Are you okay?" Kira noticed her slight heavy breathing.

"Y-Yes!" Keep it together, Jenna, she thought.

"I've been really excited... to teach you pottery... I'm overjoyed... that we get the chance... to do this," he said, revealing his inner feelings. Jenna was relieved to know he felt just as excited as she was. He really knew what to say at the right time. So she gave him a kiss on the cheek while his face was still close to her. After a moment of blushing, Kira continued explaining the next process.

He gave her a thread and moved to the other side to slowly stop the spinning table. The final part was to disconnect the mug from the clay connected at the bottom. He told her which hand to release the string based on the direction the table was turning. Once the thread went around the mug and the table stopped, he showed how to pick it up. It came off perfectly.

Jenna was so happy how well the mug turned out. "Kirarin, look look!" The way she held out her first ceramic product and her large smile reminded Kira of when he first made his pottery when he was little. It warmed his heart to know how much fun she was having. After Jenna placed the mug on the board next to her, Kira asked, "Why a mug?"

Jenna looked at him and smiled, "I wanted to use it to drink Morning in the Sky coffee. I was also going to paint it blue and white to match the theme."

Kira's eyes opened wide from her sweet reason. He gave her a kiss on the cheek like she did to him earlier and thanked her.

"You did very well... on your first try."

"Thanks! But it was your helpful teaching that I was able to do it. Can we make another one?" she asked excitedly.

"Sure." he said with a smile.

[bastillewolf]

It’s More About Looks Than Skill (X)

Pairing: Ryuk/Reader

Summary: Ryuk finds himself gaining feelings for Light Yagami’s best friend, but she doesn’t know he exists. When he makes the grave mistake of touching her, he makes things a lot more complicated.

Notes: New year new chapter, but let’s hope I update more frequently than that now lol. Please leave me a kick in the ass so I stop procrastinating, thanks! And also big thank you to the immense support. Love you guys <3

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! If I wasn’t able to tag you, please check your settings and send me another ask.

Chapter X

She really couldn’t help herself. What sane person wouldn’t start screaming the second they hopped onto a Shinigami’s back and started flying? She clung onto Ryuk’s neck for dear life, her legs wrapped around his middle while his wings flapped them higher and higher until they’d reached a thick level of fluffy clouds with the dark sky above them. There, the wings stopped flapping, and she found herself gliding through the air, her hair being pulled back by the gentle breeze. She realized how harshly she was squeezing Ryuk, and quickly loosened her grip to a point that she was still comfortable she wouldn’t be able to accidentally let go.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in his ear. It was actually very beautiful, now that she took a good look around her. Below the white, she could see all sorts of lights from the city flickering through, as if they were mirroring the stars above.

“I can take it. I just wasn’t expecting you to scream, is all,” Ryuk replied gently, “I thought you wanted to fly?”

“Y-Yes, I did. It’s just… a lot scarier than it looks. I don’t have wings, so rationally if I let go I would definitely not survive. I think even L could confirm that with percentages and a graph.”

“Rationally I would catch you. I’m heavier, I fall faster than you. You would be saved before you could say ‘Shinigami’.”

She chuckled, “Rationally I wouldn’t count on that. Maybe I don’t trust you. Rationally.”

He turned his head slightly, but she was still unable to see his facial expression from her position on his back. However, it became rather apparent through the sad note in his voice when he spoke. “You don’t trust me?”

She quickly shook her head, “No, I’m sorry Ryuk, that’s not what I meant. I mean that I should rationally not count on you catching me if I fall. I made the decision to hop on your back, thus it is my responsibility to take responsibility for my actions and face the consequences. If I fall, it would be my mistake.”

“Even if it were, I’d still catch you. I’d always catch you.”

She felt a sense of ease wash over her, along with a tingle in her stomach, but she wasn’t quite sure what that meant. She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder, and breathing in a waft of fresh air that dragged along a hint of Light’s cologne. “How come you’re never this nice to Light?”

Ryuk chuckled dryly. “Because he’s not you.”

He felt a blush coat his cheeks when he felt her hands running along the feathers of his wings in a slow, gentle manner. She kept doing this until they’d landed, and then proceeded to latch onto his hand after they’d landed in the back of an alleyway.

Even if you do not actually possess the Death Note, the effect will be the same if you recognize the person and his/her name to place in the blank.

Ryuk was in love. There, he could finally say it. He’d been on a date and now he could say he was in love. He was slightly hunched over so the girl could hold his hand without people noticing at her side, but not for one second did he feel an ache in his back. All he could think about was the way she’d clung onto him, how she’d touched him, how sweet she’d sounded muttering nothings in his ear while she stroked his feathers. Affection wasn’t something that came naturally to him, Shinigami’s never really deemed such thing necessary. Yet with her, he seemed to want to keep her hand in his forever.

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him, because she was the one who dropped it like a ton of bricks, along with his heart. Then he noticed the reason for her sudden shift, and it was standing in front of Light’s house. She lightly tugged on the chain that was stuck to the other death note he was carrying and kept her fingers wound tightly around it, but he didn’t mind. If she wanted to take his Death Note, she could go right ahead and do it. That’s how happy he was.

Until he met the bleak pale-yellow eyes of the tall creature hovering above the blonde stranger in front of them.

 ***

“Okay, Ryuk, we need to have a little talk,” Light started. They’d just been at the hotel, where they’d found out the second Kira was willing to do everything Light wanted them to do. They were supposed to set up a meeting place and Light wanted to prepare. She knew a round of questioning was about to begin, so she plopped down onto his bed in an instant.

Ryuk sighed, “Should’ve known.”

“And I’d appreciate an answer if you could,” Light added. “If two Shinigami happened to meet in the human world, are they allowed to speak to each other?”

“Hard to say,” the Shinigami replied. “As long as I’m attached to a human, I’d say it’s against the rules unless I had their permission first. But there are no laws against it either, so I guess it’s possible that another Shinigami might talk to me.”

“So, does that mean that if this fake Kira’s Shinigami were to see you, there’s a chance he might mention the fact that you’re with me and reveal that I’m Kira?”

“They probably wouldn’t, but it depends on their personality.”

“And if this kind of situation did arise I can assume you’ll act the way you normally do?”

“Yeah,” Ryuk said, “Even if I see another human with a Shinigami I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Well, I definitely think you’ve got the right approach.”

“Humph, thanks.”

 ***

“Oops,” he couldn’t help but curse under his breath, recalling the conversation he’d had with Light. He didn’t recognize the Shinigami before them, but if they wanted to, they could directly link Ryuk to the girl that was latching onto him. They might think she was the real Kira.

Though the latest message had already revealed Light’s stunt in the city with the group of people surrounding Ryuk had been a failure and he had been discovered to the fake Kira, there would be no good explanation for him to be hanging around this human.

Luckily for him, the other Shinigami remained deathly silent, until the girl at her side turned.

“Oh, hello there!” she said.

She blinked in response. “Uh… I- Uh… Aren’t you that girl from TV?”

The blonde giggled profusely, suddenly walking up to her as casual as could be. “Yes, I’m Misa, nice to meet you! Do you want an autograph?”

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly, “Uh, no, I think I’m good. Were you looking for Light?”

“Eh?” Ryuk vocalized. He didn’t expect her to be so blunt about it. But then again, he realized, Light had most likely already been discovered. He just didn’t know how she detected that this was the second Kira without being able to see the second Shinigami floating only a few feet away.

“Oh, I was. Are you friends with him?” Misa’s head turned, but her eyes held a sudden blank expression as if her mind were calculating a proper physical response once she’d gotten answers.

“Yeah, for like, my entire life. How do you know him?”

“Oh… I just, I found the notebook he left in class. Then I looked him up online and I thought his resume was very… impressive. I just really wanted to meet him, he seems like such an intelligent guy.”

Ryuk heard the other Shinigami audibly sigh.

“Well, why don’t I introduce the two of you then? I’m sure he’s still up at this hour, and I was just on my way to see him now.”

“S-Sure!” Misa replied hesitantly.

She wished Light’s sister, Sayu, could’ve at the very least toned down her excitement a bit when she met Misa, but alas, she was in awe, as well as the girl’s mother. Light eventually came trotting down the stairs behind them, his neutral facial expression continuing to withstand even as he saw the strange scene before him. He managed to shoo his family members away and closed the front door behind him. She could’ve sworn she hadn’t heard crickets chirping before that.

“Uhm, pleased to meet you,” Misa started, sinking to her knees in a bow, “I’m Misa Amane.” She then glanced at you, and back at Light again.

Ryuk chuckled until he heard the other God of Death say, “Misa, the girl is being followed by another Shinigami. I doubt she isn’t aware of it.”

Misa made a noise of understanding, before looking at the odd placement of your hand which was still wrapped around Ryuk’s chain. “I thought you might get worried if you saw that message on TV. I just couldn’t take it anymore so I brought… this notebook.” She held out an identical copy of his Death Note in front of Light, and Ryuk heard the girl next to him audibly groan. Of course, the girl had no issue showing something like that out in the open. It was like she had no idea.

Light touched it, yet he made no sound. “Does she know? About all of it?” Misa questioned, directedly pointing her gaze at his best friend. Light nodded, so she was allowed to touch it as well. She very much tried, but unfortunately, her poker face wasn’t as good as Light’s, so she ended up with her mouth slightly agape. Ryuk lifted a finger to close it.

They decided it would be best to move the conversation inside, so they did, and Light had cautiously locked his bedroom door behind them after making sure his mother and sister thought this was just a nice drop-by from his (girl)friend.

“Have a seat.”

As Misa sat in Light’s desk chair, his best friend scooted onto the mattress behind him with Ryuk towering over them at the bedside. Her Shinigami, a pale skeleton with yellow eyes and purple hair and what appeared to be vampiric teeth, stood guard behind Misa.

“How did you find me?” Light decided to ask.

She answered with a gasp, “I knew it! You never made the Shinigami-eye deal. When you have the Shinigami-eyes like I do, you can see most people’s name and lifespan just by looking at them. However, you can’t see the lifespan of any person who possesses a Death Note.”

Light glanced over at Ryuk, looking for an explanation, but Ryuk seemed just as shocked. “No kidding! I have to admit, even I wasn’t aware of that little detail.”

“Well, now you’ve managed to find me, but you were careless; what if you’d been caught by the police? Then they’d know everything about Kira!”

“It’s all right,” Misa said, “Because the police didn’t catch me and if I do as you say from now on, they’ll never be able to. So we’re safe. After all, don’t you need someone to see L’s name? If you want, I could be your eyes. So…”

“Yeah? So what?”

“-Would you please make me your girlfriend?”

Both Ryuk and the girl behind him burst out laughing, but he decidedly ignored them. He then proceeded to question her about her strategy in the city, as well as the evidence she could’ve left behind. She ended up even offering her Death Note to him, and while she’d still be the rightful owner, Light would be in control of it, and she of her Shinigami-eyes.

“-And if I become a burden to you, you can just kill me, okay?” Misa said pleadingly.

“But you might’ve removed several pages from your Death Note, you could be hiding them somewhere for all I know!”

“Why are you so suspicious of me?” she cried out, getting up from the chair and stomping her foot on the floor, “I already told you, I don’t care even if all you do is use me! Please believe me!”

“Why are you so willing to give up your life for him?” (Y/N) asked, and Light had to admit, that was the question he’d been building towards this entire time.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“ Misa spat.

“Hey,” Light barked, “If you want to show your loyalty, how about you start being nicer to the only person I’ve trusted with my secret so far and has kept it?”

“How can you be so sure you can trust her?! I bet she’s only in it so she can take it from you after you’re dead, so she can become the new Kira!”

“How dare you!” (Y/N) snarled warningly, but Misa was already launching herself at the girl.

Light hadn’t quite seen that coming. Thankfully, Ryuk had. He took the blonde girl by her arm and lifted her until her feet didn’t touch the floor anymore and she’d let out a startled scream. He noticed the other Shinigami wanted to step in already, but Light was faster. “Misa, if you and I were to work together, I need to know you can make rational decisions without letting your emotions get the better of you. Can you do that?”

She didn’t really look at him, so he decided to repeat himself, this time a bit more convincingly, “If you were to be my girlfriend, I need to know if you can tolerate being around my best friend.”

At this, she lit up, and Ryuk was quick to let go of her.

When she’d finally left, the girl he’d just been on a date with was now slung around his neck, having climbed on top of the bed to be able to reach him. His large hands grasped her sides, and his smile had grown even wider.

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[dragonsareourfuture]

Reunion — Parent!L/Parent!GN!Reader

We finally got some L into the mix! This is honestly less focused on you and L’s relationship and more so on the family dynamic between all the other characters and you guys, plus your daughter! Everything’s pretty chill, no mentions of the Kira case, no angst. Just...happy. (Also, just wanted to mention that there are some jabs at people who stream for a living in this but that’s just Roger being a dick your job is valid no matter what <3)

(DN) = Daughter’s Name :)

WHERE? WHERE IS MY NIECE?”

“Jesus, Misa! Be careful!”

As soon as these voices were heard, Roger was sure that all peace and quiet for the day would be cast out the window. Even so, he put on a cheerful smile and exited the kitchen to greet yours and L’s bittersweet friends who had just begun removing their shoes to place in the neat shoe rack in the foyer.

“Ah, Light Yagami and Misa Amane, glad you could make it,” Roger began.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you. I apologize for the short notice, but L had mentioned that it was his daughter’s birthday and we just had to attend,” Light explained with a faux, closed-eyed grin as he lifted a bag decorated like a birthday present for further explanation.

Roger nodded curtly and took the present from Light, holding out a hand to direct the couple towards the kitchen where the festivities were to be held for that evening.

Misa perked up again when she laid eyes upon the infant being bounced on your knee, giggling absentmindedly.

“There she is!” The enthusiastic blond squealed, practically shoving her boyfriend of three years out of the way to kneel in front of the babbling child like she was a god.

You giggled at her antics and let her squish your baby’s cheeks between her fingers. “Hi, Misa. It’s been a while.”

“I know! It has, hasn’t it?” Misa cooed, words directed at you but using the high pitched voice one uses to speak to a child nonetheless.

Light ambled into the kitchen hesitantly, eyeing L, who was standing over you as you sat on a stool at the counter, his hand on your shoulder while the other one resided in his pocket. Light nodded politely, his features stiff and his shoulders tense as if waiting for L to provoke him at any second. L easily picked up on Light’s careful movements and squared his shoulders, correcting his posture a bit though his dull expression never changed. Luckily, the tension was snapped when the front door opened once again and two college-age kids stepped into the cool interior of the fairly large home.

L seemed to relax more now that more people he was comfortable with began filing into the space. The pair in question — a lazily dressed brunet adorned with a cigarette and orange-tinted goggles as well as a leather clad blond with scar tissue occupying the left side of his face and arm — came through the threshold and packed themselves into the already tight-fitting kitchen, bickering with each other all the while.

“Matt, just put it over there.”

“No, I wanna give it to her now!”

“Be patient, asshat!”

“Hey, no language like that in front of the baby!”

You snapped your fingers to get the boys’ attention and gestured for them to just hand you their present already. Matt happily stepped forward and handed you a crudely wrapped gift. Not to mention, they had used crumpled newspaper and a length of thread to tie the gift together. Matt shot you a sheepish smile and admitted, “We couldn’t afford wrapping paper...”

“Aw, guys, this is more than enough! Thank you.” You glanced down at your daughter and allowed her tiny yet strong fingers to curl around your own. “Can you say ‘thank you’, (DN)?”

The little girl bouncing on your knee gazed up, recited gibberish at the two boys and stuck out her slimy tongue, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth.

“You’re welcome, little one.” The brunet patted the girl’s head and (DN) grabbed at his wrist. He let her tug his hand down and stare at his fingers in awe, even if her hands were covered in baby saliva.

Mello let out a subtle chuckle and pulled out one of the stools lined up at the counter in order to sit next to you. He gestured to the elegantly wrapped present and smirked, “Matt picked it out.”

Matt was too busy to hear this admission as he was wiggling his fingers in front of (DN)’s face, causing uncontrollable giggles to burst from her toothless mouth.

You puzzled at the gift for a moment before consulting L, who merely shrugged. You figured he of all people would know what the pair was capable of considering he had lived with them for a good amount of time, but he came up empty. Before you got a chance to open the gift, however, Roger piped up with a question for Matt.

“So, Matt, how’s your job been?”

Matt paused and stared blankly at the man who used to house him, caught off guard by the question, opening and closing his mouth like a beached fish. “Uh...fine. It’s been—”

“He’s been doing great.” Mello chimed in, glaring daggers at the man.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Tell me, what is it you do, again?” Roger continued. Mello shifted his glance to Matt, an expectant and impatient expression laced onto his narrow features as if they had rehearsed this very conversation back at their apartment and had to follow a script.

“I’m a gaming streamer.” Matt choked and Mello could barely help but throw his head into his hands. “It’s a real job.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is, son.” The older man seemed to find triumph in the outcome of this conversation and retreated to the living room before the victory was taken from him.

“Nice one, man.”

“I’m sorry, okay!?”

“Hey, Matt, there’s no shame in doing what you love.” You offered kindly.

“It would help if it payed the bills...” Mello mumbled, to which you sent a harsh kick to his shin.

The lot of you were unable to hear the door open and close thanks to Mello’s yelp of pain and Matt’s howls of laughter, and as quiet as Near was it wasn’t a surprise to have him suddenly appear out of nowhere.

“There you are, Near! How’ve you been?” You greeted cheerily, hoping to make up for the white haired boy’s lack of enthusiasm.

The pajama wearing boy merely hummed and crouched down in front of your child, being able to since Misa was long gone, huddling up next to Light and chatting animatedly with Gevanni, who had escorted Near to the party. The baby bopped Near’s fluffy head with the flat of her palm. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

As Roger carried in the cake it was difficult to refrain from laughing as L’s eyelids practically disappeared, leaving most of the whites of his eyes visible. The light from the birthday candles flickered in his irises. It appeared that he was in some sort of trance. When the cake was set down on the countertop you turned so that your daughter was facing the treat, placing a gentle yet firm hand on L’s shoulder as he twitched as if he would lunge for the cake.

“Should we start singing then-?”

“No!” Chirped your daughter as she slapped a hand down into the icing, leaving a tiny handprint that claimed her piece of the marble cake.

Laughter was heard around the room and Roger shrugged as he began cutting everyone pieces of cake.

Once everyone was finished and (DN) was sufficiently covered in crumbs and icing, you all shifted to the living room to start opening presents.

As your little girl pawed are the first gift, a collective gasp echoed through the room when the front door all but burst open. The metal knob most likely dented the wall as it slammed. Roger winced, nothing on his mind but the time he’d spend on repairs.

“I’M HERE!” Matsuda announced with a boisterous laugh, delighted to see that the party was still in full swing. However, his ear to ear grin didn’t last long as he noticed everyone’s surprised and confused faces staring back at him.

“Did you invite him?” L whispered in your direction.

“Um...no I don’t think so.” You replied, putting a smile on your face nonetheless. You stood, handing your daughter over to L as she waved the half opened gift in his face to which he smiled lightly. “Hey, Matsuda! You’re just in time for presents!” You hugged him tightly around his waist, attempting to make up for how terrible you felt for not inviting him yet also curious how he got here if neither you or L had mentioned the occasion to him.

“Oh, good! I was sure I missed everything! I felt terrible! Oh, here.” Matsuda passed you a colorful, neatly wrapped package adorned with a festive silver bow. Your stomach dropped even further with guilt as you realized how much time he put into the gift. “Light told me about (DN)’s second birthday and I couldn’t miss it!”

You couldn’t help your lips from stretching into a wide smile when you looked back up at the usually forgetful and clumsy man. “Come on, wouldn’t want you to miss out,” you said, taking him by the hand and leading him to sit with everyone else.

“Alright, now just open our present already!” Matt exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down on the couch cushion. You laughed, not remembering the last time you saw him this excited. You assisted your daughter in getting the rest of the “wrapping paper” off of the gift inside. It was a case, almost like a DVD case but smaller, and as you flipped it around you could read “Call of Duty” on the cover.

“Call of Duty!” Matt shouted, throwing his fists in the air.

“As I already told you, I did not pick that out,” Mello defended.

“But now me and (DN) can play it together! Right, (DN)?”

Your little girl clapped enthusiastically at Matt’s offer.

“Great. Thanks, Matt.” L took the game from the still cheering girl on your lap and put it to the side.

After the rest of the presents were opened and wrapping paper littered the floor, people began to say their goodbyes. All of Wammy’s boys opted to stay and help clean up, sharing a beer afterwards. Well, more like Mello and Matt shared a beer. L helped himself to the leftover cake that had been set aside to be packed up into Tupperware. Near sat on the floor next to the counter, playing with (daughters name) and unboxing all of the new toys she had received from earlier.

“Oh, shit. Matt, we should get going soon. It’s getting dark and I gotta be up by five.”

“Since when have you been so business oriented?” You questioned with a smirk, referring to Mello’s new job at the chocolate shop. It wasn’t much and he knew that, but it was pretty much the only thing he was qualified for after spending the entirety of his high school years in the mafia.

“Since I was almost fired the other day.”

At the mention of this unfortunate event, Matt had to stifle a laugh as he elaborated, “Turns out businesses don’t like it when you take most of the merchandise home with you.”

“I swear, Jeevas, get in the fucking car.”

“Language!” Matt reminded with a devilish smile.

You swore Matt could have dropped dead with the glare Mello was sending his way. The brunet relented and gave you a goodbye hug once you stood from your perch on the stool. He then bent down and swiped (DN) from the floor.

“Hey,” Near began to protest.

“Oh, shut it, you fucking sheep.”

Matt covered the little girl’s ears and looked at the blond like he should know better. Mello rolled his eyes as tiny hands batted at the feathers adorning the collar of his floor length coat. “Hello.” He said plainly.

“Aw, c’mon, Mello! Hold her!” Matt insisted, holding the child out to the reluctant blond.

“I don’t wanna get spit all over me, thanks.”

“Think fast!” Matt literally threw your child into Mello’s arms, leaving him no choice other than to catch her from mid air.

“Don’t do that!” You scolded, leaning against L (who had just arrived by your side) out of pure relief that Mello possessed decent reflexes. Crumbs fell into your hair from the corners of L’s mouth as he wiped them clean, appearing to not be phased by your child taking a little flight.

L then stepped forward when he noticed the blond struggling with how to hold the infant, thrown off by her ever-moving limbs and intense gaze. Your poor postured husband adjusted the girl in his younger counterpart’s grasp so that he balanced her on his hip, arm supporting her bottom. He looked more nervous rather than disgusted.

“There you go.” L lightly patted Mello’s back, as if silently telling him that he was doing well.

“Yeah...this is fine...”

Near stood from the floor and shifted his gaze over to you, eyes soft and pleading. “May I hold her?”

“Really? Off to steal my thunder, are you?”

“You looked uncomfortable.”

“I’m always uncomfortable. It’s part of being me!” Your baby was then shielded from Near by Mello’s protective, feathery shoulder which (DN) had begun to chew on.

“Mihael, why don’t you let Near have a turn?” The blond boy tensed at the sound of his real name but, once he seemed to remember it was only coming from you, he thrust (DN) into Near’s chest, waiting for him to wrap his arms securely around her.

Matt twirled the car keys around his index finger. “C’mon, like you said it’s getting dark.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mello gave you a quick one armed hug, doing the same for L and heading out the door without even acknowledging Roger who was clearing up the now empty cake tray. “See ya.”

Gevanni made you nearly jump out of your skin as he appeared out of thin air to consult Near, who still rocked the baby in his arms, on what time he should start up the limousine.

“Now that I think about it, we should let our friends rest. It was lovely to see you three.” The white haired boy politely parted ways with you, climbing into the limousine and waving through the tinted window. (DN) flopped her tiny hand around in an uncoordinated wave. It was barely noticeable, but Near allowed a smile to pull at the corners of his lips as Gevanni drove away and out of sight.

You sighed, curling your fingers around L’s hand. “That was fun, seeing all of them again.”

“Yes, it was. We should do that more often.”

“We should actually invite Matsuda next time instead of waiting for him to show up. I enjoy his company.”

“If you say so.”

You slapped L’s shoulder with the back of your hand.

“Meanie.”

[confusedweasleys]

Elemental Desire (Part One) - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

A/N: YO what is up kiddos?? I’m so happy to be back writing on here! And I’m on break so that means tons of stories for you lil ones! This is my first series that I’m writing and I’m super excited lol! (Also sorry I didn’t get to the prompt, that will come in later chapters hehe). Also, for the person who requested this, I decided to make it a series with Stiles (Teen Wolf)!

Request: @sry-stlinski

Prompt: “What a shocker, you have an excuse? (#142)

Triggers: Cursing, Mentions of Drinking, Panic Attack

Word Count: 2,573———————————————————————————————————

    “Y/N. Y/N. Y/N!” I jerked awake as someone gently shook my shoulder. 

“Ehg! Stiles get off me,” I said, slapping his hand away. “Why did you wake me up?” I groaned. 

“If you wouldn't fall asleep in class, I wouldn't have to wake you up,” he said cheerfully. He grabbed my bag. “Come on come onn,” he whined. “Let’s go, it’s lunchtime and I'm hungry.” I groaned. Why did I fall asleep? I really didn't want to have lunch with him today. With any of them really. But Stiles was already out of our history class with my bag. Slumping my shoulders in resignation, I followed him into the hall. “Come on I’m hungry,” Stiles whined, waiting for me to catch up with him. I huffed. 

“Stiles, I have homework to do.” 

"See that is just not true,” he said, smiling at me. “We take all the same classes, and I know for a fact that essay we just handed in was your last assignment before winter break. So not only do you have lunch free, you are also free all of winter break,” he finished. Stiles looked at me with a satisfied smile. I groaned again, knowing he was right. 

“Fine,” I said, following him to our lunch spot. Recently, the little pack had taken to sitting outside. Although I’d been avoiding everyone lately, I did enjoy the change from the stuffy cafeteria. I trailed behind Stiles as we reached the group, wincing. They don’t want you here Y/N. The voice was in my head again. No one wants you here. Leave before they notice you. I pushed the voice out of my head and walked towards my friends. I settle between Stiles and Kira, resting my head of Kira’s shoulders. 

    I wouldn’t say that I’m good at making friends, but something about Kira and I clicked. From the first day I met her, she was always there for me and I was always there for her. That was just how it worked. Even with the comfort of my best friend, I felt anxious as I looked around the group of people laughing and talking. You aren't welcome here. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down as I noticed the dirt start to shift below me, and the breeze pick up ever so slightly. Kira seemed to notice my shift in demeanor and looked over at me as the voice returned in my head. They don’t want you here. He doesn't want you here. The wind picked up even more, to the point where a few of Lydia's papers flew away. I sat up abruptly and grabbed my backpack from Stiles' lap, trying to stay calm and shut the voice out at the same time. “Shit guys, I forgot to turn in my essay!” I exclaimed as I rushed into the school building. I barely made it into the girls’ bathroom before the voice broke through into my head. They don’t want you. They don’t like you. You are nothing. You are nothing. You are nothing to them. You are nothing to him. I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop, stop, stop, please stop, I thought. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. "Stop please stop!” I screamed out loud, feeling a rush of power through my chest. I felt a wave of water drench my entire person. Opening my eyes, I realized the entire bathroom was soaking wet. What the fuck. Did I do that? I started mentally panicking. Was there another monster or demon in this town. We had had a weird year last year certainly, but everyone had agreed that it was over. What is going on? I groaned and wiped the tears and water my face off with a few paper towels. Crying was common enough. Being completely drenched from head to toe? That might catch a few more stares. 

    I tried to clean myself up as best as I could before leaving the girls' bathroom - and running directly into someone. “Oh I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking-” 

“Y/N?” 

“Stiles?” 

“Why are you soaking wet?” he asked, blinking his eyes in confusion. “It’s freezing outside. Are you ok?” 

“Oh I’m fine,” I lied. “What are you doing going into the girls' bathroom,” I said, attempting to quickly change the subject. 

“I wanted to see why you just lied and ran away from our friends,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me. “But now I’m more curious as to why you’re soaking wet,” he said. 

“The girls’ bathroom was soaking wet, and I slipped and got completely drenched.” Another lie slipped out of my mouth. 

“Y/N, I’m not stupid. Your hair is soaking wet,” he said. 

“I told you, the bathroom was drenched.” 

“Fine. There was a huge puddle,” he said with his trademark sarcasm. “But I'm going to drive you home because you are completely drenched.” I bit my lip. I did not want to spend 15 minutes in the car alone with him. 

“Stiles you have class right now.”

“So do you,” he said cheerfully. “Come on we’re going,” he said, grabbing my shoulders and steering me out of the school before I had another chance to decline.

    I had decided the key to avoiding the topics I didn't want to talk about (basically boys and the supernatural) was to keep him continuously talking about literally anything else. Which meant I had to initiate the conversation. We got to his old jeep and I tossed my soaked bag in the back. “Feel like telling the truth yet?” he asked me. 

“I already did Stiles,” I said in a singsong voice. There goes that plan.

“So that would be a no,” he said, rolling his eyes and starting the car. “So what do you want to do tonight?” 

“Um, study,” S said, hoping to steer away from that topic as well. I really did not want to be hanging out with the group right now. With the scary supernatural voice in my head and well, her, the group wasn't exactly my happy place at the moment. 

“Yeah no, I don’t think so. It’s the first night of break. You will come ice skating with us and you will have fun. Then we will get drunk and you will have even more fun.” 

“Stiles,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“Not taking no for an answer,” he said, swerving the car into a sharp left - the opposite direction of my house.

"Stiles where are we going?” I asked with an exasperated sigh. 

“To my house.” 

“I need clothes.” 

“No. You'll leave if I take you to your house.” 

“Fine. I’ll come out if I can get clothes and shower first. If you haven't noticed, my clothes are sopping wet and it’s 5 degrees outside.” Stiles eyes lit up as he smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back. This boy has way to much control over me. 

“Well that sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” We talked for the rest of the drive back to my house, and we laughed and joked like we normally do. And even though I tried to hide it, I still heard the voice in the back of my head. he doesn't love you.

    Eventually, I was able to shower and get changed into very warm clothes. And I was dreading ice skating. I didn't think I would make it through the night with Lydia slightly flirting with Stiles while he looked at her like a puppy dog. It honestly made me sick to my stomach. So I made my way downstairs in a tee shirt and Christmas pajama bottoms, with the full intention of telling Stiles to go without me. I wasn't feeling well I would say. I walked to the living room where Stiles was laying on my couch hugging a pillow to his chest. “Nope,” he said, not even looking at me. 

“But-” 

“Go change,” he said, turning to face me. “You are feeling perfectly fine, and we are going to go have fun,” he said. “Now go change,” he said, throwing the pillow at me. I huffed and stomped back upstairs to quickly change. Fuck. How does this boy know me so well? 

    We drove to the small ice rink at lightning speed. Stiles informed me that because of my “little stunt”, everyone had beat us there. 

“Well if you hadn't forced me to come, you would be on time wouldn't you?” I said. 

“On time and alone. And sad,” he said, twisting his face into a look of mock sadness. I laughed and unbuckled my seatbelt as we reached the ice rink. It was a quaint little sight. The ices rink was full of skating families, couples, and friends, and decorated with every sort of Christmas lights. It looked like it should be on a Christmas card. Stiles and I grabbed our skates and went to lace them up. I smiled at my penguin socks as I laced up my skates at a much faster pace than Stiles. 

“Come on slowpoke, you made me come,” I said, poking his arm and putting. I skated, very clumsily I might add, to a familiar pair in the middle of the rink. “Kiraaaa,” I said as I skated right into her. Kira fell onto her butt. 

“Hi Y/N,” she said, laughing and groaning as Scott hauled her off the ice. "Where's your boy toy?” she asked me looking behind me. For a split second, I was confused, until I followed her gaze to a very clumsy Stiles making his way over to us. 

“The overgrown child, who is not my 'boy toy' I might add, is over there.” 

“Who’s not your boy toy?” Stiles asked winking at me. I rolled my eyes 

“Doesn't matter,” I said, grabbing Kira’s arm. “Come on, we're here to skate anyway. Sorry Scott, I'm stealing you girl,” I added. Kira, blushing like a madman, tightened her grip on my arm and rather forcefully led me away. She groaned as we skated away from the two boys. “Uh-uh-uh, payback,” I said, cutting her off before she could complain. Kira had known about my crush on stiles for pretty much the entire course of our friendship. I, in turn, had listened to her gush about Scott for the entire course of our friendship. Aside from repeatedly almost dying together, talking about our crushes on the two brunette boys was a key factor in our developing friendship. One year later, and things were still pretty much the same. Although, I was pretty sure Scott and Kira had hooked up. Whenever I asked her about she changed the subject. 

    Kira and I skated around the rink a few times, me seemingly getting worse over time, before deciding to rejoin the boys. After about ten minutes of searching for them on the small, crowded rink, Kira spotted them in line at the hot chocolate stand. Typical. Kira and I tugged off our skates before walking up behind them. “I just don't know what to do,” Stiles was saying to Scott. “There is absolutely no way she feels the same way.” 

“What's up guys,” Kira interrupted as my heart twisted in my chest. Of course Stiles would be talking about Lydia when she wasn't even here. that girl had a hold on Stiles so strong I was surprised he didn't literally fall at her feet. Her, not you. And right on cue. My lovely evil voice friend was back in my head. Get out, I thought back. Now is not the time. I tried to turn my attention back to the conversation, which just consisted of Scott trying to cover up whatever the two had been talking about while Stiles stuttered incoherently. I wonder if any of your friends actually like you. The voice pushed its way back into my head. Maybe they feel sorry for you like Stiles does. Everyone has someone in their life that is more important than you. Scott has Kira. And Stiles - 

“Stop it,” I said out loud. My three friends turned their heads towards me. “N-no not you guys,” I said, laughing shakily. I pointed my hand towards a kid a few yards away. “That kid was about to cut himself on his skates.” I lied through my teeth. Only Scott looked convinced. “Crap guys, it's almost nine!” I said, pretending to check my watch. “I forgot I was supposed to tutor someone tonight at 8:30. I'll see you guys later.” I turned around before anyone could respond and hurried to return my skates. 

“Y/N!” 

“Thank you, thank you! I said hurriedly, giving the rental man my skates back. “Y/N,” Stiles said catching up to me. “What the fuck is going on? I know you’re lying about having to trust someone tonight, and I know you were lying earlier today. What the fuck is going on?” he asked again.

“I’m not lying Stiles, I'm just stressed. It’s just making me a little crazy.” 

“You're lying again,” he said, clearly frustrated. 

“I’m not lying! Why do you even think I’m lying?” I said walking away from him. 

“Because I know you. You don’t rush off to random places or forget about appointments. You don’t forget to turn in assignments. And when you lie, you don’t make I contact.”

“That’s not true,” I mumbled looking at my hands. Stiles stared pointedly at me. 

“Come on,” he said, pulling me back to the car. I resigned to getting into the passenger side, and he drove away from the crowded area. We drove in silence until he pulled off the road on the edge of the woods.

“I don't understand what you have going on in your life that is so bad or complicated that you can't tell me about it. We’ve always told each other everything. And now you’re acting weird and I don’t know how to help you,” he said. 

“I don't have anything going on!” I exclaimed, fling my arms into the air. “And I’m not acting weird! I’m fine.” I watched the air outside start to swirl. Fuck I need to get out of here. 

“If you won’t tell me what’s bothering you and you need some time that’s fine. Let's go do something. Just the two of us. We can at least take your mind off of whatever is stressing you out.” 

“Nothing is stressing me out,” I said, growing more agitated. He doesn't actually care about you. He feels bad for you. “Stop, stop, stop!” I said, feeling something build inside me. Outside the car, the air swirled more intensely as it was joined by flurries of snow. Stiles looked at me, bewildered. 

“Yes, you are obviously the epitome of fine,” he said sarcastically. “You need to calm down,” he said, turning serious in an instant. “I think you're having a panic attack,” he said. 

“No no no,” I said. “I-I need to go,” I said. 

“What?” he said even more bewildered. “Where?” 

“I-I was supposed to be home a half-hour ago,” I said, clenching my fists. Stay calm. 

“What a shocker, another excuse,” he said dryly. His sarcasm quickly turned to real concern again as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “Y/N what is going on?” he asked again in a pleading voice. “Please,” he said quietly. “Talk to me.” Don't talk to him. He doesn't really care. 

“I need to go,” I said, fumbling for the door. Stiles tried to lock the doors, but it was too late. I scrambled out of the car and into the woods. 

“Y/N no!” he shouted. “No, come back!” He ran out of the car after me, but I had a huge head start. He wouldn't catch up to me. I ran through the woods as a sob wracked through me. Violent wind and snow swirled around me so powerfully I couldn't even control the direction of my momentum. And like a mantra, the voice began again. Unloved. Worthless. Friendless. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 

“Stop! STOP!” I screamed. I felt a huge weight burst from my chest as wind and snow swirled seemingly straight from my body and into the sky. And then I passed out in the snow.

[rosedavid]

Nowhere I’d Rather Be

Check out my other fics here!

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since Andi’s party, three weeks since TJ and Cyrus subtly confessed their feelings for one another, and three weeks since they interlaced their fingers together with exhilarated grins. In that moment, TJ remembers how all his jumbled, never-ending thoughts and worries about the future got momentarily pushed to the side so he could focus on one single thing: the boy holding his hand. Cyrus.

Three weeks later, and the giddy feeling that blossoms inside TJ’ s chest when he thinks about Cyrus still hasn’t faded. He supposes that’s a good sign, as the feeling continues to prove how crazy he is about the boy. There’s also a significant downside to TJ’s constant racing heart, sweaty palms, and flushed cheeks; he’s terrified. Relationships in general are new to TJ, let alone a relationship with a boy who also happens to be one of his best friends. He doesn’t want to screw this up because not only does he really likes Cyrus, but because he knows that Cyrus deserves the world and more. TJ doesn’t want to be a disappointment. 

Despite all of Cyrus’s reassurances, TJ still feels guilty about taking their relationship so slow. They haven’t done much besides occasionally hold hands in private, linger longer than usual during hugs, and send soft smiles at each other. Even though it seems like it’s enough for Cyrus, TJ notices the longing look he gets while watching Buffy and Marty be all coupley together in public. And the worst part is that TJ wants nothing more than to be just like that. He wants to be able to lock hands in the halls. He wants to drape an arm casually around Cyrus during lunch. He wants to kiss him goodbye at the end of the day. 

But then the fear drops in. Sometimes, it arrives because he spots Kira wandering through the halls one day. Other days, it might be an offhanded comment he hears. A lot of days, though, TJ has no idea where this terror originates from, and that’s what scares him the most. 

Today, TJ is determined. He’s going to take Cyrus out on a proper date. No staying in watching movies. TJ wants to give Cyrus the most memorable date of his life. He wants to see Cyrus’s nose scrunch up when he gets really excited and his hands flail about at an even faster pace. He wants to hold Cyrus’s hand the entire time and never let go. 

He has the perfect date planned. He’s going to take Cyrus to a reptile sanctuary, where Cyrus can see all of his favorite lizards he always rambles on about as well as know that they will be released later because he knows how much Cyrus hates seeing animals in cages. 

So, this brings them to the car. TJ sits with Cyrus in the backseat while his mother drives. Cyrus can’t sit still. He constantly shifts his legs and taps his fingers on the armrests with a curious expression on his face. 

“Is it The Spoon?” Cyrus wonders.

TJ shakes his head, “We always go there!”

“The movies?”

“Nope.”

“A football game?”

TJ stares at him incredulously. “You really think I’d make you suffer through an entire football game?”

“I hoped not, but I had to make sure!” Cyrus defends.

Laughing, TJ almost reaches over to grab his hand but decides against it last minute. His mother may know that he’s gay now, but she doesn’t officially know he’s dating Cyrus (although she definitely suspects it). Not only does TJ want to avoid outing Cyrus to his mother, but he also worries about Cyrus’s reaction. What if he doesn’t want to hold TJ’s hand? What if he thinks it’s super gross that TJ’s hand is so sweaty? 

What if’s have always been TJ’s enemy, but they’ve been especially detrimental to him recently. He just wants to be able to be Cyrus’s boyfriend without worrying about what others may think. He wants to be able to give Cyrus everything he deserves but worries that he’ll never be able to do that. He worries that he’s holding Cyrus back from happiness. 

But he has to make today different. He has to push those worries aside again and take a risk, just like that night on the bench with their hands inching closer while he held his breath. 

When they arrive at the reptile sanctuary, a beam lights up Cyrus’s entire face. His joy is contagious, causing TJ to smile himself. Cyrus looks at him in hopeful confirmation.

“A reptile sanctuary?” Cyrus squeals. “I didn’t even know they had one this close by!”

“So you like it then?” TJ asks, ducking his head. 

“I love it!”

With a promise of picking them up in an hour and half, TJ’s mother drives off and leaves them alone. They walk up toward the entrance to pay the donation fee before getting inside. The instant they head in and Cyrus spots the first reptile, he practically runs over to get a closer look. Even though TJ is honestly kind of terrified of reptiles, dealing with seeing them is worth it as long as he can see the excitement on Cyrus’s face. 

He looks adorable standing on his tiptoes to get a better look into the large, open area. Flecks of gold sparkle in his dark eyes every so often. He spews out the most random facts, yet TJ has never found something so interesting. Of course, if he occasionally zones out to focus on Cyrus’s lips, could anyone blame him?

As they walk through different areas of the sanctuary, TJ becomes hyperaware of how close together their hands are to touching. If he just adjusted his position a little, he could strategically brush his hand with Cyrus’s--

“Cyrus?!” A feminine voice calls out in surprise. 

“Iris!”

TJ yanks his hand away like he’s been burned. At his side, a flash of disappointment crosses Cyrus’s face, but it’s gone as soon is it arrives. 

In front of them, a girl with short brown hair and a cheery smile waves enthusasitcally. Cyrus waves back, sporting a similar face. She comes over to them, giving Cyrus a quick hug. 

“It’s been so long!” Iris comments, looking up at him. “You’ve gotten so tall!”

“And you cut your hair. It looks great!” Cyrus notices. 

“Thanks! Fancy seeing you here, fellow lizard lover!”

“I know, this place is amazing! I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

Abruptly, TJ clears his throat, catching both of their attention. Iris smiles politely at him. 

“Oh, this is TJ!” Cyrus introduces. “TJ, Iris. TJ is my bo--best friend. My best friend. He’s actually the one who discovered this place.”

Man, does that correction hurt to hear. TJ feels awful. Cyrus has to lie to his friends about them just because TJ is scared. He hates this. 

“Nice to meet you TJ.”

He nods, “You too. So how do you two know each other?”

Despite the hot sun blaring down on them, Cyrus visibly pales. Iris doesn’t seem quite as taken aback, but she tucks her hair behind her ear before stammering out an awkward explanation. 

“We used to date,” Iris says. 

Of course Cyrus has dated someone. How could he not have? After all, not only is he adorable, but he has a great personality and a kind heart. And this girl seems super great, as far as TJ can tell. Cyrus deserves someone who is actually willing to admit how they feel about each other. 

“But that was a long time ago,” Cyrus adds on hurridly, sneaking a glance at TJ. 

TJ supposes he should be jealous of Iris. Maybe at first he is, but afterwards just comes a sense of guilt and regret. He doesn’t want to make Cyrus feel like he’s being put in an awkward position. Just the other day, Cyrus’s mom (who he’s also out to) asked Cyrus if he’s dating anyone. Again, Cyrus was forced to lie on TJ’s behalf. 

“Oh,” TJ replies, not sure what else to say. 

“Well, I think Teej and I are gonna finish up here. It was great seeing you again, though!”

Iris smiles, “You too! We’ll have to catch up some time.”

“For sure.”

When she walks away, Cyrus turns toward him, concern knitting his brow. TJ sighs, dropping his shoulders. 

“TJ? Are you alright?” he wonders. “I know that was probably super awkward for you.”

“No, it’s fine,” TJ promises. “She seemed really cool. I just...I feel bad.”

Cyrus tugs him over to a nearby bench, and TJ almost laughs out loud at the irony. They sit together, knees knocking against one another. The position they’re in reminds TJ so much of that night that he has to swallow back his emotions to keep himself in check. 

“Why do you feel bad?” Cyrus asks in a whisper. 

TJ shrugs. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s something that’s affecting you negatively.”

TJ picks at a string on his shirt, avoiding eye contact. 

“I feel like I’m holding you back.”

“Why would you think that, Teej?”

He glances up to see Cyrus reach for his hand. Before he can, though, a shadow of a family walks past, and Cyrus tugs his hand back. 

“See, that’s why!” TJ explains. “I want to be open with our relationship so badly. I want to hold hands in public and hug and kiss, but I just can’t. I’m so scared, Cyrus. But I can tell that you’re ready, and I’m just not, and I hate it because you deserve much better-”

“Hey,” Cyrus shushes. “It’s okay. I’m okay with this. I don’t care if we’re taking things slow. I care about you being comfortable, and if you’re not ready to be public or to kiss, then I’m not either.”

“But-”

“Thelonious Jagger Kippen, you are not holding me back. I like you, and I’m going to stay with you, even if we go public for another year.”

TJ feels his eyes begin to water. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. I’ll always be here for you, I promise.”

He holds out a pinky, causing TJ to smirk. There’s many reasons he likes Cyrus, but quirks such as these just make him fall harder. He intertwines his pinky with Cyrus’s, shaking them once. 

“That’s legally binding,” Cyrus declares, “so now you’re stuck with me.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

[mikami]

Death Note Audio Drama 10

Disc 10: Karma Police - a summary / partial translation

Prior translations / an explanation as to what the fuck this is.

After I majorly burned myself out on doing these, I am BACK with the rest of this drama in tow. 10 down, 2 to go.

In this: nonsensical but wild shinigami lore, confirmation of ghosts, an actually sad dialogue of grief over Soichiro, and transparently agenda-based bad writing decisions that make me lose my mind with how bad they are.

_____________________

We start with a dramatic audio sequence from Kira’s Kingdom. Topics are the rise of pseudonyms in social media and unjustified Kira killings based on rumors online. There is also... a studio guest!

DEMEGAWA: Here in the studio, I can welcome Teru Mikami. Prosecutor in new Kira cases from all over the world.  I, Hitoshi Demegawa, take your calls, read your mails, listen to your stories. Whole lifestyles are overhauled, behaviours defined anew. How we approach other people is often only dominated by fear. And... love. The love of Lord Kira. This is Kira’s world. We’re just living in it.

(Note by me: what the fuck does this mean??? Literally what the fuck does any of that mean?? How is a case a Kira case?? He’s pro-Kira not anti-Kira?? Hello?? On that note, DEMEGAWA IS ALSO PRO-KIRA??? WHY IS HE SAYING ANY OF THIS???? The fact that the audio drama writers had zero commitment to even trying to make Kira-following believable in story irritates me a lot. They do so much obvious moralizing at the cost of the story. Like yeah, Kira is bad, but a sane listener doesn’t need you to literally punch them in the face with it............................)

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TITLE MUSIC

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Mello meets Ms Sugai, the mafia lawyer from last disc. They’re at the beach, waiting for the drone to arrive. Ms Sugai is very demanding, definitely views herself as the boss here. She takes Rod Ross’ role in this drama.

The drone gets there, Sugai nitpicks Mello’s methods, Mello stays calm, and the drone is retrieved and brought to Sugai’s place.

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L and Shidoh arrive in Tokyo. Shidoh remarks how it was very different last time he got there (after the war). Shidoh suspects the war is the cause of shinigami having gotten so lazy, since a lot of them didn’t have to kill for ages after this. (Nevermind that this is complete bullshit because shinigami don’t have anything to do with ‘normal’ deaths and thus would not actually have had to work any at a war unless they were directly painstakingly orchestrating it, lmao.)

L wonders if youkai in Japanese folklore. are just half-remembered sightings of Shinigami. Shidoh isn’t sure.

Shidoh also explains that L’s body is going to change. Everyone starts out with the body they died in and then changes. Shidoh speculates it is related to the manner of death or maybe the personality of the person. 

L: Are you trying to say all Shinigami started out as humans?

SHIDOH: Not necessarily. But even a human will change over the course of centuries. I don’t know, L. Maybe your teeth are going to get longer and longer. Or! Horns may come from your skull. Or you’ll just keep growing taller. Death is only the beginning.

The two of them arrive at the Task Force Headquarter. Shidoh goes in, L leaves.

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Soichiro is trying to get into the headquarters despite having already had his retirement party. But officially he’s still employed - yet he can’t get in because he’s suspended after stealing the Death Note to free Sayu.

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Shidoh approaches Ryuk about his notebook. He demands it back, but Ryuk doesn’t know where it is. 

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Matsuda and Light are sorting through Watari’s huge amount of physical files that he kept in a storage room. None of that seemed relevant to them 5 years ago. It’s mostly data about his charity work, including his orphanage for gifted children, Wammy’s House. There is a file on N, but there is no picture, only a drawing. Likewise with M. M has a juvenile criminal record in his file. They deduce M is the one who stole the Death Note.

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Sugai comes to talk to the mafia guy the police arrested. Since she’s his lawyer. She tells him that he has to sit his time in jail for a few months until she gets him out. She also dictates what to state as his testimony.

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Shidoh then approaches the dude. The dude is appropriately shocked. Shidoh wants him to say where the Death Note is. 

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Light sees this freak-out on the camera feeds and assumes a shinigami is in the cell. Light figures out that Ryuk handed over a stolen Death Note. He’s highly amused. 

The mafia guy tells Shidoh where the headquarters are (on the other end of Tokyo) and the investigators who are listening in now also know.

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Sugai is incredulous that the weapon they got is just a book. She’s immediately wants to test the book. She and Mello discuss the rules and capabilities of it.

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Light decides not to tell Near about these developments. The Task Force wants to get the notebook back themselves. They scheme how to storm the building, there is a bunch of technical talk about methods here.

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Sugai and Mello still discuss the rules. Shidoh appears and immediately tells them the 13 day rule is fake. 

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Misa and Light are at a public swimming pool. Light chose the location so nobody can wear a bug and also to drown out noise with the whirlpool. Misa is excited about the outing. Light tells Misa to get rid of the notebook. She’s supposed to kill the mafia first, then give the book up. 

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Soichiro is tending to the roses. Sachiko is giving gardening advice, Soichiro doesn’t know shit about gardening. Sachiko is super happy Soichiro is home and wants to make out, wohoo. But Soichiro gets a call from Kira, rip.

Kira is Misa giving him the plan to storm Mello’s HQ, just like in canon.

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Mello starts wondering why someone would write the fake rules. And he figures that Kira wanted the police to read the fake rules, to give him an alibi.

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The Task Force gets Kira’s Death Note. Soichiro has objections against the plan, morally. Everyone else is just like ‘eh’. 

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Shidoh asks for his book back, Mello and Sugai don’t want to return it. 

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The raid on the HQ is happening! Light is also in with them, he even has a gun. 

MATSUDA: Is your weapon ready to fire?

LIGHT: Yes, Matsuda. It is. I’m a real detective.

MATSUDA: For less than a week. How many shoot-outs have you been at?

LIGHT: One, this one included.

MATSUDA: Right. You may officially be my boss, but I still have 7 years on you. This is not a game.

LIGHT: You don’t have to tell me that.

People start dying and the raid is starting.

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Sugai and Mello notice the attack. Shidoh suggests the eye deal so they can defend themselves.

Sugai also suggests Mello pretend to take her hostage, since officially she is not a criminal and can thus count as a civilian hostage. Mello agrees. They try to take the back door to escape.

Shidoh is surprised nobody wants the deal.

Outdoors, Soichiro yells at them to give up. Mello recognizes his voice and knows his name. Sugai suggests he kill him. They realize neither of them has the book on them.

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Soichiro meanwhile finds the left-behind Death Note, hurray. Mello and Sugai do their hostage plan to get him to give up the notebook. Sugai screams really melodramatically.

Light also enters the scene but a surviving mafia goon has a target on him. Soichiro meanwhile forgot his weapon on some table, rip.

The situation is dire, Ryuk tempts Soichiro into the eye deal in a lengthy sequence of pointing out just how dire the situation is. Specifically the motivator here is that Light’s life is in danger. Soichiro takes the deal for Light.

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The stand-off continues. More and more people from each side arrive at the scene and its more complicated. Soichiro reveals that he has Mello’s name (he pronounces it Michael) and threatens people with it.

Ryuk helps (?) by turning off the light for a moment, which causes people to shoot wildly. Soichiro runs to the roof, injured. Mello and Sugai chase him.

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Sugai decides to escape without the notebook and fucks off. https://twitter.com/MiyataVld/status/1153658045374746624

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Ryuk comes to Soichiro and says he ‘has’ to write his name. I don’t know how the fuck shinigami lore works in this. Light comes up to the roof and wants Soichiro to give him the notebook. Shidoh steps in, Soichiro gives HIM the notebook, Light is really pissed about it. 

SOICHIRO: We made it, son. We’re finally rid of it.... nobody can misuse it anymore.... And I still have the eyes.

LIGHT: Father...

SOICHIRO: I can see you now son... your name... your death date... do you know what that means?

LIGHT: You can’t go father! The ambulance is on the day. Stay strong. Look into my eyes. Look at me.

SOICHIRO: As I can see... it means... you’re not Kira....

LIGHT: Yes, father, I’m not Kira. But you have to hold on and tell it to the others as well. You can’t die, stay strong! Tell them what you’re seeing! Tell them... Father?! [sobbing noises]

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Soichiro’s funeral. A Christian sermon again, because who cares these guys are Japanese, I guess.

MATSUDA: Chin up, Light. He’d be proud of you.

LIGHT: Thanks, Matsuda.

AIZAWA: My condolences.

LIGHT: Thank you. Come on, mom. Let’s go home.

SACHIKO: You couldn’t change it either, huh...?

LIGHT: Mom! 

SACHIKO: I had him for two days! I waited 35 years and you only left him to me for two. days.

SAYU: Mom... Don’t say that! Not here!

SACHIKO: He was retired. Why was he even there?

LIGHT: He saved my life.

SAYU: And mine, too.

SACHIKO: Hah.

SAYU: He was a hero.

SACHIKO: I didn’t want a hero. I wanted my husband.

SAYU: Calm down, mom...

SACHIKO: Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. I lost him to the police. I lost my whole life to the police! And now they’ve got you, too.

LIGHT: He was proud of me.

SACHIKO: Of course he was. You’re just like him. It’s as if he was still standing in front of me, ready to doom another woman who will spend her life waiting for him to come home! 

MISA: Sachiko, please...

SACHIKO: Run while you still can, Misa. It’s not worth it! [sobbing] Why did you let him go?! Why didn’t you talk him into staying home?!

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RYUK: Humans are so funny.

L: You’re a monster.

RYUK: What the hell?? How did you get here?

L: Surprised to see me?

RYUK: Uhh, yeah? You’re... uh... You’re dead.

L: People keep telling me that lately.

RYUK: What’s going on here? Are you.... Wait. Are you buried here? Is this just a common haunting? 

L: Nope.

RYUK: In that case you’re just an echo, you see? It’ll fade soon.

L: Do I sound like an echo?

RYUK: No. You can’t just come back from the dead. That’s impossible.

L: Are you sure?

RYUK: There are rules. 

L: And do you also know the one that says you’re not allowed to steal someone else’s death note? That’s one of those rules, isn’t it?

RYUK: Aaah, that’s how Shidoh found me. 

L: We helped each other out.

RYUK: But he’s back home now. He left you here.

L: Yeah, there’s still a few things I need to do.

RYUK: You know that there is only a single way for you to still be here? There is only one way for this to end.

L: Yes.

RYUK: Wow, L. You really have to carry a major rage inside of you. 

L: I think I merely have a reason.

RYUK: Then just wait, buddy.

L: What?

RYUK: Light has got his teeth in your successor. You know, that miniature version of you.

L: Near. What can Light do to him?

RYUK: He’s close. Light is gonna turn his lights off.

L: But he doesn’t know his real name. He can’t kill him.

RYUK: He doesn’t need that. He just needs to cut him off from reinforcements. Cheers to the chief inspector!

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A press person tries to do damage control on Trump’s terrible politics. Many Trump jokes here. I am so tired of this drama reminding me Trump exists.

Trump then announces that the US won’t oppose Kira anymore.

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We’re still at the cemetery. Light is chilling there, as Ryuk urges him to go out. Light asks Ryuk what happens after death and wonders if Soichiro might know the truth now, wherever he is. Ryuk doesn’t answer conclusively. He accuses Light of being scared of his karma and scared of his father’s disapproval.

Light kept a few pages of Shidoh’s notebook. He killed Sugai with it. Light still wonders if his father is watching.

Ryuk says that ‘almost’ nobody ever came back from the dead.

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Mikami is on a debate program, opposing Paula Virilio. They’re discussing the US’s recent decision. This discussion is BIZARRE and I don’t understand why a single writing decision in it was made. Like, it just makes me so mad. I am solely translating it so everyone else can be mad with me.

TAKADA: Shocking statements from the US president today. But are they really so susprising? That’s what I want to ask general prosecutor Teru Mikami. Mr. Mikami?

MIKAMI: Good evening. No, it really isn’t surprising. I think this recent deed by the US mirrors are global, fast-growing movement that isn’t afraid to call Kira’s actions good.

TAKADA: It probably isn’t true that there aren’t any wars or crimes anymore.

MIKAMI: No. Kira’s actions are rather localized. He pays almost no attention to the third world. And not all crimes happen intentionally or are able to be put to trial without reasonable evidence.

TAKADA: And for you that’s alright?

MIKAMI: I think Kira is listening. I think he is watching us at this very moment. I think he reacts to movements and campaigns in the public. If his punishments reflect the worries of, say, the Japanese middle class, then that’s also a... how should I put this... function of his loudest supporters.

TAKADA: You’re saying that if we were more interested in, for example, Simbabwe, then Kira would do the same?

MIKAMI: That’s my firm belief. 

TAKADA: Also in our studio, is the law consultant Paula Virilio, who has lead both Interpol and the SPK in the past. To you the question... where is the 180° turn of the US president taking the criminal justice system?

VIRILIO: I don’t know if this step was really thought through. Only a short while ago, he signed a paper assigning more money to the according task forces. This step now... it is putting the whole task force into a tight spot. There are definitely going to be conflicts with Interpol. The step back from American engagement will likely have consequences.

TAKADA: Do you mean financially?`

VIRILIO: Interpol still views Kira as the world’s most wanted terrorist. And those who work with Interpol usually do this in the shape of a substantial financial contribution. So yes, I think this step will freeze both the US engagement with Interpol and this form of international cooperation at large, for an indefinite amount of time. With a whole row of unpredictable consequences, by the way. Cooperations across borders, agreements to hand people over, tax agreements... At baseline, he just turned the US into a paradise for organized crime.

MIKAMI: Come on, Paula, that’s ridiculous! 

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The scene cuts, to the SPK who was watching. They’re understandably displeased. And they argue that Kira must be blackmailing the president to do this. The SPK things they had something on Kira that made Kira fear them.

This makes them think back to the kidnapping stunt in Japan. 

Mello then calls the SPK.

MELLO: My condolences for the end of your job contract. Looks like sticking to the rules was a waste of time.

He then tells Near that he used to have the notebook for a little bit. Near is shocked the task force didn’t tell him any of that. Mello tells Near that he’ll have to work hard to catch up with him now.

Thus he gives Near a tip, telling him a rule is fake.

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We’re back on Kira’s Kingdom. They talk about Sugai, who’s suicide included a confession (thanks Light), about the family feud at Soichiro’s funeral, and then about protestants circling the SPK building.

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Near calls Light. He confronts Light on not informing him on the raid. He’s pissed and says they failed because they didn’t use his resources for backup.

He also asks Light what he thinks of fake rules and immediately admits Mello told him this.......................

Near elaborates on the idea that the fake rules were made to create an alibi. Light ‘deduces’ the correct fake rules.

Near suggests testing the book and its rules, the task force refuses this. Near then addresses the task force members and calls suspicion to Light being Kira. 

After the call ends, the anti-SPK protesters arrive at the building and try to storm it. Near and the SPK make a run for it.

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Light says that Near is just desperate to present just about anything before his special task force gets dissolved. The task force discuss Near’s theory anyway.

Matsuda says that Near is just trying to split them apart. The other task force members aren’t as anti-Near.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

The Space Between Us (Chapter 4)

Summary: After the events of Costume Day, Cyrus asks T.J. for space. How will T.J. handle this distance between them?

A/N: Now that the plagiarism incident is behind us, this story can get rolling once more!

The cafeteria lady placed a wrapped sandwich, a cup of fruit, and a carton of apple juice on his tray. Giving her a faint smile, T.J. thanked her before taking his food and heading to the basketball team’s table. 

He was barely halfway there when he spotted the familiar head of curly hair, sitting next to one of the Forwards, laughing with everyone.

His stomach churning with nausea, T.J. changed his course, heading for the back of the cafeteria, instead. There were some tables there, hidden behind some pillars and away from prying eyes.

He didn’t want to sit with the team right then. Or maybe for a while. Not while Kira was still trying to buddy-buddy her way in. She really couldn’t take a hint.

As he scanned the back for an empty table, his eye caught two familiar figures in a corner, sitting at a table by the trash cans.

T.J. hesitated but before he could turn around and find someplace else to eat his lunch (maybe the bathroom or a classroom), one of the figures raised his head and caught sight of him, his blue eyes connecting with T.J.’s own.

For a moment, they stared at each other, neither moving nor looking away.

The second figure spun around in his seat and saw him. Smiling kindly at him, he lifted a hand to wave.

Swallowing, T.J. returned the smile and approached, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Long time no see, Kippen,” Reed drawled out, smirking.

T.J. nodded. “Yeah.” He gestured to the empty spot beside Lester. “Can I sit with you, guys?”

Reed tilted his head in agreement while Lester scooted over to give him space.

For the first time in weeks, T.J. sat with his old friends.

After the whole gun issue, he had taken extra measures to avoid the two boys. They weren't bad kids, exactly. Stupid, sure. But, it wasn't like they went out of their way to do bad things and get in trouble. T.J., himself, was no angel. But, he was taking steps to change. Meeting and becoming friends with Cyrus made him want to become better. And the first step was to distance himself from trouble.

It seemed like his efforts were in vain. He still messed up and he still found himself sitting with the friends he abandoned in his quest to become a better person.

He cleared his throat as he unwrapped his sandwich. "So... what's up?"

Across from him, Reed chuckled. "Same old, same old. Except now, I'm a changed man. I don't play with my dad's guns anymore. Mostly because they’re all under lock and key and code now and he and my mom won’t let me near the Master’s Bedroom anymore. And I’m pretty sure they installed a camera in there so I’m not risking it, man."

He laughed again, somehow finding the humor in such a serious incident. That was Reed for you.

T.J. managed a strained smile before moving his attention to his sandwich and taking a bite. It was tuna salad. It tasted like nothing. Maybe it was just his mood.

“Hey, um, so I never apologized for, uh, last time.”

T.J. looked up to see Reed looking sheepish and, dare he say, a little guilty. Reed never felt guilty about anything – he was too proud for that.

“So, I’m sorry,” the other blonde boy continued, sounding sincere.

“Me too,” added Lester.

This was an interesting turn of events.

T.J. felt himself smile at both of them. They were idiots. But, they were his idiots (though he would never say that to their faces).

“Thanks. And… sorry for shoving you, man,” he said to Reed.

The other boy shrugged. “Nah, I deserved it. I shouldn’t have done it. And, don’t worry, Mom grounded me… after she threatened to divorce my Dad.” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “And… I apologized to Cyrus, too.”

T.J.’s eyes widened at that. “Yeah?”

Reed smiled. “Yeah. He’s a great guy, Teej.”

T.J. already knew that.

“What happened between you two, anyway?”

His chest twitched with guilt at the reminder.

“Stuff… happened,” was all he could say. “It’s… a little hard to explain.”

“It has something to do with the Kira chick, right? What’s the deal with her, anyway?”

T.J. took a sip of his apple juice before letting out a sigh. “She wants to join the team.”

“Your team?”

T.J. hummed.

“But, there’s a girl’s team now,” Lester pointed out.

“Buffy doesn’t want her on her team. Because of bad sportsmanship, I heard.”

“Sounds like the old you,” Reed laughed.

T.J glared at him. “That’s not me anymore.”

The other boy raised his hands in surrender. “Chill, man. I know you’re not.” His gaze softened. “Cyrus really did a number on you.”

To his embarrassment, T.J. flushed red. “He just… he believed in me.” His lips quirked into a small smile, remembering all of Cyrus’ encouragement and faith in him. “I didn’t want to let him down.” Cyrus’ devastated face flashed in his mind, making his smile dip into a frown. “But I did it, anyway. He hates me, now.”

His voice strained at that last sentence and he looked down at his food tray, lest the tears started falling in front of the two boys. He was sure they would make fun of him if he cried.

To his surprise, Reed only said, “He doesn’t hate you. Upset, yeah, but I don’t think he’s capable of hating you. Trust me. I talked to him this morning.”

T.J. finally raised his head. “Yeah, I saw you two.” He swallowed. “Is he okay?”

The other blonde hesitated, seeming to be contemplating his answer. “He… looks like he’s okay. But… I don’t think he actually is.”

T.J.’s heart fell at that. Cyrus didn’t deserve this. How could he do this to his best friend?! He was one of the only few people left who still believed in him and his capabilities! He trusted T.J. with everything and defended him at every turn!

And, once more, the guilt and anger at himself settled in his stomach, making him queasy. He didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“Hey, dude.” Reed’s call made him lift his head, but he refused to meet the other blonde’s eyes. “I know it’s bad, now. But, I’m sure things will be okay again.”

T.J. wished he could say that that made him feel better, but it only made him feel worse. He appreciated the attempt at making him feel better but, unfortunately, comfort was not Reed’s forte.

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks.”

He cleared his throat and opted to change the subject lest he really started crying.

“Anyway… How did your community service go?” he asked, instead.

Immediately, Reed pursed his lips in disgust. “Excruciating! They made me clean up the park! You know, pick up litter and plant some flowers and all that jazz. Do you know how much people litter?! And they don’t recycle! They’re so rude!” 

He huffed, looking personally offended by people’s horrendous trash disposal habits. “It wasn’t too bad towards the end, though. They took me off litter duty and had me do a few hours at the community center.” 

Then, all of a sudden, he just…grinned. “I met this cute girl during one of the activities,” he stated, excitedly. “She’s an artist and she does these cool murals and…”

And, with that, he droned on and on and on.

T.J. raised a brow in surprise. Subtly, he turned to Lester with a questioning gaze.

“He won’t shut up about her,” the brunette replied, quietly.

Wow. Reed must really like this girl. T.J. had never seen him so excited talking about someone before. It reminded him of… well… him whenever he talked about Cyrus. He was pretty sure he looked like that. All smiley and happy… unlike how he was now.

Shaking his head, T.J. listened to Reed go on and on about this girl. It provided a nice distraction from his stormy thoughts.

..............

Cyrus was distracted. He barely touched his food and, instead, was staring somewhere else. His lips were pursed and his eyebrows scrunched in close examination.

Buffy was worried about him. The last few days had been really rough.

Beside her, Andi also noticed Cyrus’ far-off look. “Cy, you okay?” she asked.

Cyrus blinked a few times before looking back at them. “T.J.’s not sitting with the basketball team,” he simply said, looking confused.

That piqued Buffy’s curiosity. Spinning around in her seat, she locked her gaze on the team’s table. Andi did the same.

All the usual guys were there…with Kira. However, T.J., the Captain, was nowhere to be seen.

“That is weird,” she voiced out, frowning.

They continued to watch the team laughing or nodding along with whatever Kira was saying. She sure loved to talk.

“Do you think something happened?” Andi questioned.

“I don’t know,” Cyrus replied. “But, the last time T.J. didn’t sit with any of his friends was when… you know… the thing with Reed.”

Buffy remembered that day well. She remembered seeing T.J.’s hopeful face as he looked at Cyrus. She watched that hope die when she and Andi took Cyrus away. Honestly, she still of felt a little guilty for doing that, but she didn’t regret it. Her friends’ safety always came first.

And, even if she didn’t consider T.J. a friend, but she was just as worried and concerned for him, especially after he practically came begging to her for help the day before.

Determined, she got to her feet. “I’m gonna go talk to them,” she said in response to her friends’ questioning looks.

Head held high, she weaved her way down the aisles in between tables of lunching students. The team noticed her before she even got close.

One of the guys, Tony, grinned and stood up. “Driscoll! What’s up?” He extended his hand out which she slapped in response.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted them before schooling her features into that of nonchalance when she met Kira’s frown. “Kira.”

“What are you doing here?” the other girl huffed. “You’re not on this team anymore, remember?”

She was trying to get a rise out of Buffy, that was for sure.

Taking a deep breath and mentally reminding herself to calm down, Buffy simply smiled. “Well, I once was part of this team. You know, before I managed to make my own?”

If Kira’s looks could kill, Buffy would be a goner. Thankfully, they were not.

“But, I miss these dorks, sometimes.,” she continued, still beaming that her cheeks hurt. “We had some good times.”

All at once, the boys spoke up.

“We miss you, too, Slayer!”

“It’s not the same without you!”

“Your team should come by sometime and practice with us!”

“We went to your last game!”

Pleased, Buffy simply flashed Kira a neutral smile before turning back to the boys.

“Awww, you guys are so sweet! I’ll talk to T.J. about that practice, I think it would be good for the girls.”

She took another glance at Kira, who seemed to realize that she was losing the team’s attention. With an angry glare, she stood up.

“I have to go,” she said, gathering her things and picking up her tray. “The air here seems stuffy all of a sudden.”

Without another word, she walked off, making sure to bump Buffy’s shoulder in the process.

She resisted the urge to go after her and retaliate, in some way. But, right now, she had more important things to take care of.

“Anyway, speaking of T.J., where is he?” she asked, casually as she occupied the now vacant seat.

The boys shrugged.

“No idea,” one of them answered. “He didn’t have lunch with us.”

Pursing her lips, Buffy continued to prod. “So… he and Kira, huh?” she tried to sound nonchalant. “When did you guys start hanging out with her?

At this point, the boys gave each other looks, as if they were unsure if they should say anything.

Finally, the shooting guard, Freddie, decided to speak up. “She just kinda showed up last Friday at Costume Day. T.J. brought her.”

Tony scoffed. “More like she brought him.”

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. Interesting choice of words. “So… is T.J. letting her into the team?”

“Don’t think so,” Tony answered. “She’s been coming by practice, though, and I guess Teej is too nice now to make her leave. I mean, don’t get us wrong, she’s a great player but she’s kinda…”

“Pushy,” another player filled in.

The others nodded in agreement.

“Honestly, we like you better, Buffy.”

She couldn’t help but proudly puff her chest out at that.

“And Kira keeps following T.J. around and showing up wherever we are. I don’t know about you, but T.J. seems annoyed by it.”

“But, like Tony said, T.J.’s been too nice to tell her off.”

Too nice. That was a phrase she never thought someone would use to describe the boy’s team captain. But, he really had changed a lot since her days with the team.

And it was all because of Cyrus.

T.J. changed and made himself better because of Cyrus.

And, as much as it hurt her to even think about it, Buffy really was rooting for them to make up and leave this whole incident behind them.

…….....

A soft sigh left Cyrus’ lips, after hearing Buffy recount everything the boys’ basketball team had told her.

“I don’t know about you, guys, but I think Kira is definitely using T.J. to get on the team,” she continued as they walked away down the hall.

“For sure!” Andi agreed. “Can you believe how she’s acting like she’s friends with the whole basketball team when they think she’s actually… what did they call her, again? Bossy?”

“Pushy,” Buffy corrected. “But, pretty much.” She grinned. “They obviously like me better.”

“Everyone does,” Andi agreed.

Cyrus felt himself break into his first chuckle of the day. That got him both girls’ attention.

“Have you talked to him?” Andi asked, sounding concerned.

He shook his head. “No.” He pursed his lips. “But, I got a letter this morning.”

“What did it say?” Buffy asked.

He sighed again. “That he’s giving me space.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His heart dropped to his stomach. “Yeah… I guess…”

“You don’t… sound happy about it,” Buffy continued to prod.

“Is anyone really happy to be not talking to their friend? I mean, just because I’m the one who asked for space doesn’t mean I’m enjoying it either. I just… need time.”

Andi walked closer to his side. “Are you still mad at him?”

A nerve on his forehead twitched. “I’m not mad.”

“Cyrus, you keep saying that you’re not mad but your actions say something else,” said Buffy.

“You don’t have to hide how you really feel about everything that happened,” Andi added. “You’re allowed to be mad, you know.”

Cyrus couldn’t help but think back on Costume Day. The moment he saw T.J. unzipping his hoodie to show the “Dribble” written across his shirt. How frozen and helpless and betrayed and so… pissed off he felt during those few minutes.

“Okay. Fine. Maybe I’m a little mad,” he confessed. “But, I’m also not mad. Ugh, it’s complicated! And I hate that I can’t just name exactly what I’m feeling right now because it’s a lot of different emotions!” He bit his lip, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I told him that I forgive him but I also can’t stop thinking about what he did. No matter what I do, I can’t let it go as easily as I usually do. And I don’t get it. I really… don’t get it. It’s… it’s a lot to take in.

Andi nudged his shoulder with hers. “But, you know we’re here for you, right?”

“Of course,” he replied, pausing. “You, guys, are my most trusted and bestest best friends. Nothing will ever change that.”

They both wrapped him in a tight hug and for a moment, Cyrus felt a little better.

The last few days weren’t easy for him emotion-wise, if he was honest. It was the first time in a while where he felt so genuinely hurt and unwanted that he didn’t know what to do with himself or how to act.

But, the girls never left his side.

“Anyway, we have English,” said his pixie-haired friend as they released him. “We’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.”

The two girls gave him one last wave before walking off together in another direction.

Sighing again, Cyrus turned a corner to get to the next hallway for his own class when he stopped in his tracks.

He stood there, frozen. 

T.J. was only a few feet away, talking to some guy he didn’t know. 

Cyrus’ heartbeat quickened and his palms got all sweaty. There was no time to leave the hallway and go a different route to his classroom. The bell was about to ring.

Then, the other guy left with a wave goodbye at T.J., who turned his head to the side just in time to see him.

They stood there, staring at each other. The air seemed thick and heavy around them. Cyrus wondered if T.J. felt the same way.

He thought his friend would walk over and say “hi”, maybe beg Cyrus to talk to him again, just like he had the last time they spoke face-to-face.

But, instead, the blonde just gave him a little smile and a tilt of his head in acknowledgement, before ducking into the classroom he was standing outside of.

Just like that, he was gone.

Stunned by this turn of events, Cyrus couldn’t move.

Maybe… just a small part of him… hoped that T.J. would try and talk to him.

But, he supposed this was for the best. And T.J. kept his promise to give him space.

Cyrus asked for this.

The bell rang, jolting him out of his reverie. He forced his legs to move, running down the hall to his classroom. He arrived just in the nick of time as his History teacher had also just reached the classroom.

Under his desk, he secretly opened his phone to type out a quick text message.

Thank you.

He debated adding more but decided against it and sent the text to T.J.

A minute or two passed before a response arrived.

It was a single smile emoji and nothing else.

Cyrus wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Logan Alastair and the Slytherin Curse Chapter 2 (the Hogwarts AU)!!!

Word Count: 3943

TW: Blood, bruises I think that’s it, LMK if I missed any!!!

Notes: Ok so intro part 2!!! We meet Logan’s parents and we meet Virgil. this wont make sense if you don’t read the first chapter. <Linked right there. This has a time skip, for the most part after this, there will be a jump skip to the next year and then no more timeline hopping. I’m probably going to go work on my single dads AU next since that is blowing up. I hope you all enjoy it!!!

Pairings: Again, nothing yet, but there is definitely hints at mutual pining with logince. Again eventual logince and moxiety.

Summary: After the first year Logan is thrown for a loop, he was looking forward to going home but now that hes met Patton and Roman he doesn’t want to leave. His parents are great though and they fall back into routine. When he comes back to Hogwarts he finds a surprise in the Hufflepuff common room. maybe he’ll come out of this with another friend!

The year ends, and Roman hangs out with the others more often. He still acts oddly when around Logan, but he’s less uncomfortable looking. By the time the school year ends Logan is… sad to go home. He’s made great friends and he won’t be able to talk to them all summer because wizards don’t have phones. So, he settled for… really lame letters. He couldn’t even use magic at home, as underage wizards are required not to. He already did very little during summer but this year even going to the library wasn’t fun, he had a much bigger library back at Hogwarts and he had no interest in reading about things he would never have to worry about. He got a few letters in the first week from both Roman and Patton, and they made him laugh and maybe cry a few times. Roman would start debates with him and Logan always fell for them, having a heated argument with the parchment in his hands, causing his parents to give him concerned looks sometimes. Speaking of his parents…

“Logan dear? Would you please help me make supper? I was thinking Shepard’s pie? I know you used to love making that with me.”

The slightly sad trill of his mother’s voice gave Logan pause. He never thought about the consequences of going off to essentially magical boarding school and then coming home and just holing up in his room. He has a whole two months to spend with his parents and he was wasting it by mopping around his room. He set down his wand on his desk, smiling softly as he felt the beech wood rub against his fingertips.

“of course, mom, I’ll be right out, give me a second!”

He was still wearing his pajamas, even though it was nearing 7 pm. He made his way to his closet and changed into the outfit he usually wore, a pair of black jeans and a black button up shirt. He also usually wore a tie, but as he was about to go cook, he felt it was unneeded. He left his room, running down the stairs and making a sharp turn into the kitchen. His mom was already working away at the potatoes and he saw the pan sitting on the stove filled with veggies. He quickly took to the fridge and pulled out the lamb meat that was perched on the shelf and walked over to the stove. He looked at his mother with a small smile.

“mum is it ready to add the lamb yet? Or should I wait a bit?”

She looked over at him from where she was standing, still peeling potatoes. Her face brightened significantly, and she nodded

“oh yes dear, its ready to add the meat! Um, you know how to make it right? I’ll let you get to it. Thank you for your help star. I really appreciate it.”

“s no problem ma, m happy to help any way I can.”

He dropped the meat in and the seasoning, stirring a bit before he got a… surprise. His dog, a rather young thing, had decided to jump up on him.

“Kira! Kira I'm cooking, I can’t play right now baby girl! Off girl!”

The English springer spaniel hopped back down with a small whine. She nudged her head against Logan’s leg before running back over to her bed and laying down. Logan smiled at the pup, he had missed the puppy he had helped train. She had grown a lot in the time he was at Hogwarts and he felt bad for leaving. He went back to his cooking, finishing the cooking of the meat. He looked over to his mom to see her struggling to mash the potatoes. He swiftly switched their foods, so she was pouring the meat veggie concoction into the pan and he was just about finished when he heard the front door open. He finished quickly and ran out to the sitting room, seeing his máthair setting her bag down. He ran to her, tackling her with a big hug. He heard he grunt a bit, probably because she was just tackled by a 12-year-old boy, but he also felt a hand run through his hair, so you know it’s good.

“maw!!! You’re home!!! Mom said you weren’t gonna be home for another week!!!”

“aw Hun you think I wouldn’t do my very best to be back sooner? I can’t leave your mum for that long anyways, and I'm told I'm supposed to miss my wee baby boy for 2 weeks of his vacation? No siree lo, you know me I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I had to leave Amelia to watch you all on her lonesome for 2 whole weeks!!!”

“Cas you know I could’ve handled him on my own. He’s not that much of a nuisance!”

“hey!!!”

They stand in the sitting room a short while longer, Logan drinking in the moment of being together with his parents again. Both the last breaks he had either just been with Cas while Amy was out on a trip for her job, or with his grandparents while his moms were both busy on job trips. He had grown up with this schedule.

For most of his childhood he would go a month without seeing one or both of his parents, on the occasions that both were out he would stay with his granny and gramps on Amy’s side. He was fine with that schedule, but now that he only saw his parents three times a year, he had really missed the times when they were all together. When he was little they would play card games all day and then all three of them would goof off while making supper, and they would walk to the ice cream shop down the street on weekends and they would all get a scoop or two and they’d stop by the park on the way back, Logan used to love going to watch the fish pond. Then they’d walk home, and they would cuddle together on the couch and watched movies and when he woke up in the morning, his moms would have left for work and had left a plate of breakfast in the fridge for him. When he was really little his Grammy would have picked him up and taken him to her house, but when he started school, they got him a phone and while he ate breakfast before going to school, he would read the nice texts his moms sent him. He would walk to school and he would get picked up by Amy, who worked a much shorter day than Cas.

He slightly missed those days, but he was also excited to have the opportunity he has with Hogwarts. But hey, right now he was having dinner with his moms and finally was able to talk to them together.

“so, kiddo, how is it at Hogwarts huh? Blasting trolls and dragons? Setting things on fire? I hope not, we can’t afford to replace magical castle supplies…”

“mom!!! First off, dragons are very nice creatures, my teacher let me pet one it was just like petting a snake, but they’re warmer. No, I haven’t set anything on fire! Worst that happened was a slight poof in potions. Its fun!!! There is so much information to learn!!! I have an owl! I have friends!!! Plural!!!”

The two women smile widely at him and geez, Logan feels warm and fuzzy. He really missed this. He missed this a lot.

“I'm so glad sweetheart!!! I know you’ve been having trouble making friends back here, so I'm glad you’ve already made some! Tell us about them dear.”

And there's the exact set of words to send him into a tangent.

“oh gosh, mom I have this friend Patton? And he is so nice it’s weird, he’s also really oddly observant, he knows so much he’s so cool! He’s a different house, but he’s just super nice, when I first met him, I had ran away from the sorting ceremony and missed dinner, and his house is near the kitchens, so I turned invisible to go get food, but he saw me anyways? Said I was glittery, but he accidentally sent me into a panic attack, but he helped me out, got me food and had me sit down and we talked and from then on, we were friends. My other friend Roman? He was getting attacked by my housemates, so I neutralized them and took him to Patton who’s like super good at healing magic? We had a short conversation after he woke up before he had to leave but he was really cute and like his face was red and I don’t know why? Probably from blood loss, I don’t know but he’s really cute, like we have debates a lot and he looks adorable when he’s really passionate about something? Sometimes we’ll debate for hours until Patton gets frustrated and then he’s like really just awesome? And brave? And wow what did I just say ha-ha sorry I ranted!!!”

Logan was… not ready for the smug look his parents gave him. Their eye brows rose, and they smiled oddly at him and it reminded him of the look Patton gave him when he first met Roman. What did he say to get that look again?

“Logan, do you have a crush on this Roman boy?”

Oh. Oh no. Logan felt his cheeks flare up in warmth and he covered his face and shook his head quickly.

“NO! no I don’t have a… a crush! On Roman? No ew bleh why would I like him like that he’s obnoxious and a total nerd I don’t feel that way at all you couldn’t be more off!!!”

His moms chuckled at him and Kira ran up and licked his face, pulling him out of his ball, a giggling mess.

“ok ok, we’ll leave you alone about it… but if anything does come up please tell us we want to be involved in your life still!”

“of course, máthair, I love you guys after all.”

They finished up eating dinner and Logan smiled when Amy brought up a walk to the ice cream shop. After a brief discussion they were on their way there. He had pocketed his wand, he knew there were situations in which unapproved magic was less frowned upon. Plus, now that he had an extra form of protection, he felt it important that he use it. When they get there the shop keep greets him happily and asks him about how boarding school is treating him. He makes small talk while putting together their ice cream. The keep adds in waffle cone crumble as a free topping for his butterscotch ice cream, and after a long drawn out thank you and goodbye, they head back home. They’re almost to the park when Logan asks to see the fish pond again. Logan passes Amy his ice cream as he walked close to the water. He looks around and checks to see if any muggles were paying attention before pulling out his wand and making a water bubble float with a koi fish inside. He quickly snaps a picture before setting it back down and going back to his parents. He could become a world-famous photo editor that never edits anything just with the power of magic.

And just like old times they curl up on the couch and cuddle while marathoning movies until they fall asleep. Only this time when he wakes up, they’re still there, curled around him protectively, and Logan finally thinks that maybe, just maybe, things are going to be ok. In an hour his moms wake up, and all three of them make pancakes and they mess around, and Logan loves it.

The summer passes quickly and though he’s excited to see his friends again, he knows he’s going to miss his parents terribly. The two take him to his stop at the train station, and they have their bags as well, both of them going on work trips the same day. He gives them both big hugs, and his kisses their cheeks and waves goodbye as all three of them split ways. The last thing he sees are his parents smiles before he’s in the wizarding world yet again.

 Logan acclimates back into the school schedule rather easily, and he’s at the point that the Hufflepuff students think he’s a Hufflepuff as well. He spends his nights in the Hufflepuff commons, and soon after that Roman does the same, both feeling considerably safer there than in their own house. They stay in this rhythm for weeks uninterrupted. All up until something happens.

“Lo you’re simply preposterous, its so obvious that house points are beneficial, if nothing else they keep rowdy students in line!”

“listen all I'm saying is that teachers are biased, and if you’ve ever read the recent history of Hogwarts, you would know of my easy exhibit A, being professor Severus Snape. They cause tension between students and professors and add to the already strained relationship between students of different houses.”

“like you can talk! Your two best friends are from two other houses you book worm!”

“I don’t need to be an example to see that I'm right. The way I met you in the first place is proof enough.”

Roman scoffs and Logan sees his cheeks reddening, obviously from embarrassment and defeat!!! Not… never mind it doesn’t matter… plus they’ve made it to the Hufflepuff commons, Patton's waiting for them.

When they get in, they aren’t prepared to see Patton stressed out of his mind, flying around the room from wall to wall grabbing things then going back to the couch where there lies a tiny Ravenclaw who’s barely conscious. The boy has blood dripping from his head in quite a few places and Logan has to turn away for a second. It takes a moment for Patton to take notice to their presence and he immediately hands them a wet wash cloth and a bowl full of some potion.

“glad you could join the party! Ro go clean his wounds and keep a decent pressure on them. Lo, take that and help him drink that, it’s a pain killer and he’s half delirious from the pain. And stay out of my way I'm working on a wound cleaning potion. I found him in a literal puddle of mud I'm livid but go go shoo do as I say”

The two rush to help the poor kid who has the decency to be confused at the new faces. The boy wriggles and refuses to let Logan give him the potion, frustrating Logan enough to immobulus him for a moment, pouring the potion down his throat, then releasing him and letting him swallow.

Patton pops up behind them and pushes them aside, helping the boy sit up and drink the two different potions he had made.

“don’t worry vee, he just gave you a pain killing potion ok? This is a wound cleaning one, and the other one is blood replenisher ok? I need you to drink these, it’ll make you feel better I promise.”

After he finished helping the boy drink the potions, he finished the last of the cleaning he needed to do and then wrapped his head in bandages. Soon after all that was over, the boy passed out. Patton poured a small bit of water into his mouth, smiling as he sees the boy swallow it.

“sorry about this you guys I just, I couldn’t leave him like he was you know? Blood loss, delirious, half asleep in a puddle of mud. Its one of the times I wish my parents would have taught me how to use a pensieve, then I’d be able to know who hurt him… oh uh, by the way this is Virgil, Virgil uh, Ravenclaw. Don’t tell anyone though, he’s very secretive about that. The name didn’t evolve at all, I guess the Ravenclaw’s had a lot of pride and the luck to continue bearing sons? He’s a direct descendant, really neat and all that considering he’s not a Slytherin which would uh. Not, not be good. Slytherin line is scary and we’re lucky that Isolt broke the chain. Uh but regardless thank you for your help, he’s a sweetheart but he’s always worried me. he’s always getting hurt, but I thought he had just been clumsy, turns out I've been… worse than wrong. It makes a lot of last year make more sense. But you know that’s not important, I just need him to sleep, he doesn’t get enough of it. I know we were gonna go exploring the grounds today but um, change of plans? I'm sorry I just can’t leave him here I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe we can chill here? At least until he wakes up, obviously I just, ugh just… feelings you know? A lot of em, and its slightly painful and I'm really worried and I want to know what happened, so I know who to- um anyways do you two want tea?”

Roman and Logan exchange glances before looking at Patton again. Roman was the one to speak up.

“you know Patton, maybe you should go clean up? We can start a pot of tea while you go… shower and change. We’ll even clean up out here a bit k? just, go destress for a bit Hun, you’re tense as the headmaster.”

Patton blinked at them for a second, then looked at his arms to see himself covered in mud and blood. He chuckles dryly and looks at the two sheepishly.

“oh, geez sorry guys, I’ll uh, I’ll be quick, promise. Uh, you two know where the tea stuff is? And the wash clothes and everything?” the two nod with small knowing smiles. “ok then… yeah I should, I should go clean up, I’ll be back soon ok? Don’t start any fights you two!”

As soon as Patton disappeared down the corridor the other two got to work. Roman was quick to raid the cabinet with both the tea and washcloths, and Logan grabbed the tea kettle. Roman tosses the tea to Logan and beats him to the sink, dampening the rag and twisting away just as Logan made it over.

“you’re incorrigible Roman”

“yeah elephant to you too Logan”

“oh my god-”

“I'm glad you’ve accepted my godliness!”

“incorrigible!!!”

“elephant!!!”

The two only bicker a small bit more. They start tea and clean up the mess Patton had made while tending to Virgil, about 15 minutes later Patton pops out and Logan and Roman are pouring cups of tea and grabbing biscuits. They don’t notice him yet, so he hides behind a corner and listens.

“Roman what is taking you so long to get the frickin biscuits? Its right there!”

“I'm being dumb! Leave me alone!”

“Roman do you require assistance?”

“NO!!! not that kind of dumb nerd! The feelingsy dumb! Just let me do my thing it’s a surprise!”

“your surprises include frogs in soup Roman, why should I trust you’re not gonna prank me again?”

“because I would never prank pat or in front of him because he’d be disappointed in me.”

“Roman what are you making?!”

“SOMETHING!!!”

The laughing Patton heard was nice, the two very rarely laughed together. Of course, he might be wrong, the two shared quite a few classes and maybe they laughed more there, he didn’t know. The two were far more reserved around each other from his experience though. The two danced around each other constantly, and maybe they had deeper feelings than they were addressing, but its not really his place is it? He only gave small nudges in the right directions. He was content eavesdropping on the two being cute, but then he heard a stirring of someone that wasn’t one of the two. He darted around the corner quickly enough to see Virgil sitting up and rubbing his head. He sits on the ground in front of him with a small smile and waits for Virgil to get a sense of his surroundings.

“huh? Pat-Patton? Where am I? What happened? Is that tea? Where am I?”

“you’re in the Hufflepuff common room. I don’t know what happened, I just found you collapsed in a mud puddle and bleeding a lot so I brought you here to fix you up. Yes, there's tea, do you want some?”

“oh… ok...? sure…”

Patton smiled and turned to the other two who were frozen next to the tray of tea and biscuits. He laughed seeing their shocked faces. He gestured them over and Roman literally shook himself out of the trance he seemed to be in. He nudged Logan and brought the platter with him. Logan sputtered a bit before catching up and sitting on the ground with Roman and Patton. Patton grabbed a cup and handed it to Virgil who was much less out of it once he got tea inside him. He curled up on the couch and scooted away from the other two, whose robes were still red and green. Patton quickly noticed the behavior and leaned against the couch with a smile.

“I forgot to introduce you! Sorry, I was distracted. This is Logan and Roman! They’re my friends! They have some pretty troubling stories too, but that’s not the point. The point is-Ro did you cut the biscuits into hearts?”

Roman’s face turned red with embarrassment and he nodded. Logan looked at Roman with a red face that Patton was sure to notice. He gave Logan a look and then smiled at Roman.

“they’re so cute Ro!!! Thank you!!! Aren’t they cute vee?”

Virgil looked up from his tea to look at the biscuits and Roman. He smirked slightly and nodded.

“yeah, yeah they’re pretty cute. Thanks for the tea by the way… Ro?”

“ROMAN! Uh, um sorry, my names Roman, didn’t mean to be so loud, sorry I uh, I'm a little out of my element…”

Virgil's smirk softened and his eyes opened more. He held his hand out to his side with a relaxed voice.

“no problem dude, me too. I uh, I'm usually a loner but Patton has been showing up much more often.”

“yeah he does that. You literally can’t avoid him. He first met me while I was invisible. He’s insane but you know he and Roman are my only friends, so I’ll take it.”

Virgil gives a glance at Logan and chuckles.

“guess you got one up on me. also, that seems like something inexplicably Patton, so I don’t doubt you.”

Patton looked around at his three best friends and smiled brightly. He sipped his tea before looking at Virgil again.

“you should join our squad!!! Did I use that right lo? It’s what Logan calls our little friend group! Sometimes he says silly things like squad goals and does this weird hand gesture but its really cute! I don’t know what it means but it’s cute!”

Virgil looked at Logan again and Logan turned away, hiding his face in his hair, but the red tinting that painted his cheeks and neck was obvious. He laughed softly.

“is that a muggle thing? Its cute. Sure, I’ll join you guys, you seem chill. Maybe I’ll be able to stay out of fights more often.”

The three looked at him with a happy smile. They knew this year would still be difficult, but they had each other and that was more than enough.

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Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

[papersandkeyboards]

5/23-30: A Week of Hangouts

35th WEEK, MAY 23-30, 2016.

Seniors at Rainier Beach High School skip so much in general, I thought there would be no Senior Skip Day like in other schools.

Speaking of which—Senior Skip Day, I guess you could say, is some sort of unofficial agreement between seniors to skip the whole school day on an agreed day. And yes—it is indeed a thing, apparently.

But as I said, seniors—if not students in general—at RBHS skip so much, it doesn’t seem like Senior Skip Day would be a thing to be excited about. In my fourth period—which is IB Lang and Lit for seniors—there are suppose to be, like, 24 kids or something, but there are only 10ish students in average every day. One day the number hit 14, Mrs. Shaw got so excited she could’ve cried.

Tuesday, another sparsely populated fourth period. We were in the middle of something when a couple of seniors got into the classroom and handed out papers to us that turned out to be a permission slip to go to Seward Park on Friday.

“...what’s this?” I asked Imi.

“Oh, it’s Senior Skip Day,” she said.

Well—turned out we did have a Senior Skip/Ditch Day. Unless that it was school-approved, chaperoned-by-teacher Skip Day... quote on quote.

Call me a nerd, but I didn’t want to skip first period on Friday. If it were a normal first period I would probably be delighted to skip, but since mid-end May until mid-June, there’s this big event called Seattle International Film Festival, which is one of the most famous film festivals in the world. A whole bunch of films from some one hundred countries around the world, different styles, different genres. One of the films from USA is called “The First Girl I Loved”, and the director was coming to my first period on Friday. The world of filmmaking has always been interesting to me, so no way I would pass this opportunity, although he wasn’t a big block-buster movie director.

So I went to first period. Which I think was worth going. However, on the way to and during second period, I started getting down for not going to Skip Day. I didn’t even turn in the permission slip. I was so ready just to skip fourth and sixth on my own and finish reading The 5th Wave in the library (ok now I really have no defense if you call me a nerd).

I walked to third—Tomchick—and welcomed by his question, “Aren’t you going to Senior Field Trip?”

I shrugged. “I don’t want to miss first period.”

“You can still go. They haven’t even started yet.”

That lit up a speck of light in my face.

I still endured third period, then went to the Activity Center as Tomchick instructed, where he said I would find a ride there. I ran into Mr. Henderson instead—Henderson and Tomchick were the chaperones. I asked him, then he told me to go to the main office since there were also other seniors who would be getting a ride to Seward Park. I met Sadia there, she turned her and my permission slips, then get a ride with her and Naimo to Seward Park.

In front of the park, right at the sign, a white poster that says “RBHS Seniors—follow the balloon!”. There were balloons tied up to road signs along the way, until we found a clearing filled with people.

Seward Park is a really nice park. It’s wide, it has open plains and tree-shadowed plains, benches, a shelter, a big swing set. I saw Mr. Christopholus by the shelter preparing the grill. The tables in the shelter were filled with unopened food, drinks, and utensils, and the benches outside were packed with backpacks. I got out of the car and Price shouted my name... which I totally didn’t expect would happen since we never really talk.

Anyway, I looked around. I saw people in the grassfield, playing frisbee. Some people in the shelter. Some people by the benches playing ping pong and bean bag toss. I put my backpack on one of the benches and slowly joined the others playing bean bag toss. Me, Nina, Alex, Jeremiah, Rony, Mr. Jefferson—the ceramic teacher—and later, Bobby.

Honest opinion—in second period, I was so close to giving up and hoping I won’t miss anything. I thought it would be boring (since when I asked what’s going to be there, Tomchick said “just hanging out”), I thought there would only be people I wouldn’t connect with (baca: anak-anak berandal hits), but it turned out to be really fun. Seriously, it was really fun—it was worth skipping a whole school day for.

(playing this game Tomchick dubbed “Chinese numbers”--which, apparently, is also a game I happen to know later back in Indo, also dubbed “angka Cina”)

Kapan lagi bisa bolos bareng-bareng seangkatan? Kalau niat sih, aku juga bisa bikin ginian di angkatan sekolah Indo. Bedanya 1) bakal susah buat ngerayu semuanya, dan 2) kepsek dan guru bakal marah besar sebesar-besarnya, rapor/SKHU bisa ditahan, seangkatan bisa dijemur seharian pas upacara (which isn’t new to us, hufft), dan beragam jenis kemurkaan guru lainnya. Belum lagi di angkatan memang ada anak yang superduper baik dan santun dan 99% bakalan nggak mau dirayu (mengacu ke poin 1).

Oh, satu lagi. Kalau memang kejadian, aku—sebagai anak AFS dan pioneer ‘hari bolos’—bisa lebih berabe lagi.

Uh. Okay.

I should’ve realized things like this always have an advantage—and one big major advantage that I would totally skip school for is getting to know people. There are people I have the same class with, people that also went on the Salish Sea field trip but were in a different group than me so I didn’t really talk to them, people who were just in the hallways—on this day I got to talk to them if I haven’t, and if I have, I got to socialize with them more (this might sound petty to you social butterflies, but as an introvert, I felt happy with it).

So yeah. Thanks for that.

Aside from that, this week really has been a week of hangouts—referring to the title. With friends, with family, and with myself.

Hey. I love me some me-time.

I wrote about this in the last post(s). Last week, I watched CA: Civil War, but before then, I had an hour to kill, so I went to Barnes and Noble. And I discovered this book, read the back of it, read a few first pages, and just like that, I was hooked.

Since then, I’ve been going to Barnes and Noble just to read the book without actually buying it. (well only three times since it’s a short read) On Monday I went there and finished the whole thing. I was dying. I went home empty-hearted, needing a closure.

(please refer to the previous post)

Not a perfect book, but then again, I’m not a perfect book reviewer, I was mostly just there for the emotions and intense storyline. If you like intense thriller books that wring your soul out of emotion, you probably will like it.

(“why not borrow it from the library?” you might ask—well, it’s a newly published book, that’s why, plus I looked it up on Seattle Public Library website and found jack)

On Wednesday, Kira and Tania and Victoria and I hung out downtown. Mostly because Tania is leaving on June 8th and Tania and Victoria’s school is close to my and Kira’s school so we gotta hang out after school at least once. So we did.

And on Thursday, Livia (this Indonesian girl I met in SCC) and I went to Chihuly Garden and Glass in Seattle Center. A good catch-up session, plus she’s transferring to San Francisco after this summer quarter.

Friday, after that senior skip day, my host parents and I went to Whidbey Island with Tommy and Anna—their friends—and their kids and rent a vacation house for the long weekend (Monday, May 30, is Memorial Day—which means no school and work). We didn’t go there right after my school day, so even though it’s not too long of a ride, we got there at around 9.30pm, where Tommy and Anna and their kids were asleep already.

In the morning, I woke up, went downstairs, and was welcomed by a 4-year-old and 2-year-old running around the house excitedly, stark naked.

“Naked baby!” that’s exactly what they said, over and over, until like an hour later Anna successfully put a shirt on Colin, the 2-y.o.

Cute kids. Typical loud, running-around, cute kids. Good thing the vacation house we rented had a huge sand box as its front yard (apart from the fact that the houses around were facing the beach, where there was... well, sand), plus the pails and sandcastle-making tools and all. There was also a bunch of tree trunks which unexpectedly formed some sort of cave (or maybe people in the past made it on purpose?) in which Colin and Anna liked to play.

It was probably the chillest weekend I’ve ever had. No planned activities, mostly spent walking along the coast, playing with the kids, reading (and finishing) my book, chilling in the front yard under the bright sun but cold breeze, and tagging along with Karen to shop for groceries and other trinkets (<--referring to the time she took me to a quilt shop).

OH WAIT. We also spend the nights watching Lord of the Rings. Hehehe.

Another thing that is the highlight of this weekend was how it has planted the first seed of what would affect my future life decisions since, which I will always be grateful for. But that part shall come later.

---

There it was. A week of hangouts. With fellow seniors, with AFS friends, with Indonesian friend, with my host family, with little kids, and of course, the most important, with myself.

Salam dari pelajar yang bermental main (in my defense, guru aku pernah bilang kalau punya mental main itu penting!),

Nabila Safitri.

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

OB Rewatch: The Weight of This Combination

I am disappointed that this outfit never made another appearance in the show. Either of them, really, because Kira’s little butterfly outfit is adorable.

I loved:

“Wouldn’t It Be Nice” in Ukranian (I assume)

Tatiana voiced the goddamn scorpion, too.

“Have you even talked to your girlfriend yet?” Sarah looks out for Cosima first and foremost.

This look on Delphine, and her many facial expressions. I love Delphine this entire season, as a character, because she is so complicated and conflicted, and most of that can’t come through in her lines. It’s the best work the show’s given Evelyne Brochu, and she knocks it out of the damn park. 

Sarah’s make over into Rachel sequence. The music, the camera work, Felix’s body language and facial expressions, Tat’s acting, Delphine’s on-the-edges observation / supervision, Grimes playing in the background... all perfect.

The triple clone swap organized by Delphine, before she even was sure that Ferdinand would ask to speak with Sarah Manning. The ways Tatiana plays her characters SO SO well that they can play each other and we still know who’s who. During the entire encounter, beautiful work is done by everyone in the scene. The layers upon layers of complexity are brilliant.

This is a really good look on Sarah, too:

I liked:

That pause after Sarah asks Delphine if she’s talked to Cosima yet, and the change of subject. It can’t show on a screenshot, but Delphine’s face twitches oh so slightly before speaking again.

Sarah says, “I don’t wanna see this shit.” Delphine replies, “It gets worse,” and plays more of the tape.

And Cosima’s little “Is she talking to Delphine, is she with Delphine?” Oooh, sweetie! God, things are going to get so much worse before they get better.

Sarah calls Mrs. S “Mum.” 

This great picture of Sarah in the bottom left.

The break-up scene needs it’s own space, and I both love it and hate it, so it’s going here. 

Oh God, I hate that our girls broke up because I love them and need them to be happy, and the break up destroyed both of them, but the framing and the pacing and the acting were wonderful. Their history comes out immediately, in that Cosima is distrustful of Delphine from the moment Delphine is less than gushingly happy to see her, and when Delphine slips into “doctor” mode, it only solidifies the distrust. These girls got ISSUES.

Delphine calls for Cosima when she knocks, but thirty seconds later she asks to see Sarah. I mean, Delphine, if you’re going for the “push Cosima away approach,” that would work. 

It’s been discussed and GIFed and reblogged until the end of time, but it’s worth restating that Delphine was more hurt breaking up with Cosima than getting shot in the stomach. 

Donnie is adorably excited about Alison running for school trustee. He likes having a powerful wife.

“Holy doodle, here we go.”

“Remember our safe word?” “No!”

“Shut up and stop squirming!”

I didn’t like:

I can’t watch eyeball horror. Thankfully, I know just when to turn away during the rewatch.

Ferdinand’s monologuing about Helsinki and killing all the sestras strayed too far into infodump/ “as you know, Bob” territory. It was effective, but a little sloppy.

The treatment of Helena in Season 3 often seems like pain for the sake of pain. You don’t need to abuse Helena to get an emotional reaction from the audience or to advance the plot. These “Helena Must Suffer” plots gotta go, man.

I would have liked to have seen:

Behind the scenes Delphine. Not interacting with anyone, just alone, with her own thoughts and her own knowledge. Maybe finding something of Cosima’s in her apartment, maybe looking at herself in the mirror...

Some comment, maybe from Felix, about how Delphine already knows what Sarah looks like naked, before they shooed her out so Sarah could change. 

The entire conversation between Delphine and Alison, convincing her to come in and play Sarah in this precious scenario.

I’ve got questions:

How does Helena know what Alison’s backyard looks like?

Why did they put Helena in that box? More generally, why are they treating her like an enemy combatant?

How long has it been since the end of Season 2? At least 2 days, at a minimum, to give Delphine time to get to Frankfurt, get her hair and her attitude straightened out by Top Side, and come back. 

How does Rudy know so much about Sarah and her sisters?

How much mental fortitude did it take for Delphine to break off her relationship with Cosima? Who’s idea was it? Nealon mentions “not playing favorites,” but I get the impression Delphine knew before the episode started that she’d have to do this. 

What’s Marion’s role with Top Side, again? Ferdinand was sent by Top Side, and speaks of Marion in such as way that makes it clear she’s not in charge. Hell, what’s Delphine’s role with Top Side?

How did Delphine get Alison’s clone phone number? I think it’s safe to assume that Sarah gave Delphine her own number, but Alison’s? Half a season ago, Delphine wasn’t (apparently) aware of the clone phones. 

Did Sarah know how much Ferdinand would like getting his junk stepped on, or did she just really want to?

Are/ Were there also ~274 Castor clones?

Other notes:

Ari Millen’s performance as Rudy seems different here than in future episodes. He seems much crazier than in later episodes.

On my list of fanfiction I’ll write one of these days is a divergence fic in which Delphine:

(A) decides not to break up with Cosima outside Felix’s loft.

(B) still breaks up with her, but says “I love you, too” after Cosima tells her she loves her. 

Hello, product placement! Of course, Alison is totally the Apple type. I say, as I type this on a MacBook Air. 

During Ferdinand’s SUPER creepy interrogation of Alison-as-Sarah, he asks Sarah-as-Rachel about clone relationships in 50 years. Sarah replies, “I would hope we’d just be another person in the check-out line.” Little does she know that that’s exactly what Rachel Duncan actually wants. 

It’s a bad idea to piss off Delphine, but it’s a REALLY bad idea to piss her off by hurting Cosima.

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

Resolutions are Made to be Broken

For @sterekgala‘s Sterek New Year’s Extravaganza. 

Ao3 Link on the collection.

Stiles Stilinski sat staring at his phone while the people around him screamed the countdown loudly. The TV was on, showing off Times Square where they waited for the ball to drop, but he didn’t pay it any attention, instead focussing on the time on his phone. Eleven fifty-nine. He had only a few seconds to decide whether or not he was actually going to do this. Whether or not he actually could do this.

People cheering around him startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up, seeing that the ball had dropped and everyone around him was hugging and kissing and being drunk idiots. He didn’t understand the appeal of being excited for a new year, especially with his life. All a new year meant was new ways for him to get killed and his loved ones to get injured. He wasn’t a fan of the new year.

Staring down at his phone, he opened his contacts and scrolled until he reached the applicable name, staring at it intently for a long while, finger hovering. Someone fell down beside him, and he didn’t even have to look to know it was Scott McCall. He could feel his happy grin like a slap to the face, but he didn’t let himself be bitter about it. It wasn’t Scott’s fault he had what he wanted while Stiles didn’t.

After a brief silence, Scott nudged him lightly, then pressed his weight into his side, looking down at what Stiles was staring at on his phone. Scott had lost his concept of personal space since becoming a Werewolf, but Stiles figured he couldn’t complain, considering he wasn’t a Werewolf himself and had never really understood personal space.

Scott said nothing when he caught sight of what Stiles was looking at. He just leaned against him, silently showing his support for whatever decision Stiles made. He knew which one he wanted to make, but he didn’t know if he could do it. If he did, that was it. It was over. He was the last one here who had it. The last one who would ever know what it was. But it had been over two years of nothing.

Stiles had promised this to himself. He’d promised that his New Year’s resolution was going to be to forget about Derek Hale. He was going to forget him, erase him, and pretend he had never cared about him. It hurt too much to remember, and he was tired of being hurt. Tired of waiting for someone to come back, to call, to text. Tired of expecting anything to change.

Derek had left without a word, and he hadn’t come back. He wasn’t deserving of anyone’s thoughts. He’d always preferred to be alone, and that was how he’d operated. For years, he’d pushed them all away, coming to them only when he needed help he couldn’t get himself. Like research, or mountain ash, or any other number of things only Stiles could do for him.

But he hadn’t cared. He hadn’t bothered to care. Derek Hale was a fucking asshole and he wasn’t worth Stiles’ time anymore.

Tapping on Derek’s contact, Stiles pressed another button and a prompt appeared on his screen, asking him if he was sure he wanted to delete the contact.

He stared down at the prompt for what felt like an eternity, wondering if he could actually do this. If he could let him go. If this could really be how things ended. If he could do this because of a fucking New Year’s resolution.

Taking a deep breath that he exhaled through parted lips, he confirmed the deletion and Derek’s name disappeared from his contacts. Scott’s hand fell to his shoulder, squeezing tightly, but he said nothing. He just offered brief support, then stood to go and find them some drinks.

Kira Yukimura took his empty seat not long after, chatting away excitedly with Stiles and thanking Scott when he returned with three drinks. Stiles took his and tried to smile while he listened to Kira, but it was hard.

Stiles had been the last one. The last person in their group who had continued to try. After Derek had left, hunting Kate with Braeden, they’d all tried to keep tabs on him. They’d texted, called, left voicemails, everything. Derek had never answered his phone, and had never texted back. Eventually, the others had stopped bothering to try. Most of them figured Derek was dead, and even Alan Deaton had abandoned him and asked Scott if he was in need of an Emissary. Deaton was practically already the McCall Pack Emissary anyway, so it didn’t change much dynamics-wise.

But Stiles had held out. He’d figured Derek just didn’t know what to say, and thus he didn’t answer them. So he’d continued to text him. He’d continued to keep him updated, to call him, to leave him voicemails and ask him how he was doing, if he’d caught Kate, when he was coming home.

Senior year ended and they went off to university. Stiles and Scott stayed close to home and each other, whereas everyone else scattered.

Much as Stiles wanted to leave Beacon Hills behind and never look back, this was where his dad lived, and he couldn’t do that. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t up and leave his dad, so Beacon Hills always called him home in the end.

Now, it was winter break of his second year of university, over two years since Derek’s departure, and still the silence persisted. And it hurt. Seeing that name in his phone, texting him, pretending he was still there...

It hurt.

Stiles knew it was time to let him go. Derek was either dead, or not coming back. After everything that had happened to him, Stiles couldn’t blame him for wanting to get away. Stiles wanted that, too, but he would never be able to because of his dad.

He and Scott were stuck there, and even though the others had gotten out, they returned every break and he knew that no matter what happened, when they all graduated, they’d all converge back here. None of them could escape Beacon Hills. It was as much a part of them as they were a part of it. They would never escape the  Supernatural as long as they lived.

When Lydia Martin made her way over to them and plopped down in Stiles’ lap—likely to make a new beau jealous, though why she used Stiles, he didn’t know—he knew Scott had caught her during his brief absence.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he cared about Derek. Their relationship had always been a bit confusing and violent, but they’d shared something. What that something was, even Stiles didn’t know, but it hurt to think that he never would. This was truly it. The end. He could never try and contact Derek again.

He tried to stick around to laugh and smile with his friends, sitting in the living room of some random person’s house while they all rang in the new year, but it was becoming exhausting pretending his chest wasn’t aching and a piece of him hadn’t just died. He was pretty sure Scott could smell the anguish but he didn’t say anything, just kept shooting him little looks of concern.

Around one, he figured he’d stayed long enough and bid them all farewell. He’d have thanked the party host if only he knew whose house this was, so he instead just waved to his friends, bumped fists with some old classmates, and walked out of the house.

The air was cool against his heated skin, and he shivered on his way back to the Jeep, shoving his hands into his pockets. He stared up at the sky while he made his way down the sidewalk to where he’d parked a few blocks over, watching the stars through the trees and trying to discern the various constellations he knew.

He’d almost reached his car when a police cruiser slowed beside him, heading in the direction he’d just come from. The window rolled down and his dad stared out at him from behind the wheel.

“Hey kiddo,” he said with a tired smile. “Done with the festivities?”

“You know me. It’s not a party unless someone dies,” Stiles said, somewhat sarcastically but also acknowledging that it wasn’t exactly a lie.

How sad was his life, truly?

The sheriff shook his head with a sigh and turned his gaze back down the road. “Anyone there you need to warn before I show up?”

“Just don’t arrest anyone and I won’t have to warn them.”

His dad gave him a look and Stiles rolled his eyes before pulling out his phone, the sheriff driving off slowly. Stiles mass-texted his friends, letting them know the police were on their way and to clear out. The Werewolves couldn’t get drunk anyway, so they were unlikely to be drinking, and he doubted his father would arrest them, but he figured he may as well give them a heads up.

Finally reaching his Jeep, which he’d had to park five blocks over, he climbed in, fought with the ignition when it refused to start, and slowly drove home in the darkness. Most of the houses had their lights off, but a few had one or two still lit, likely people enjoying a quiet night in on New Year’s day.

Stiles was stopped at a checkpoint, but given he’d only had the punch Scott had brought him, he was waved through without any problems. He reached the house in no time, given the lack of traffic, and made his way inside and to his room.

Too lazy to bother with anything more than just stripping out of his clothes, he fell onto his bed in only his boxers and T-shirt, the lights still off, staring at his phone and wishing he hadn’t deleted Derek’s number.

It would be hard for a while, and he knew it, but in the end it was the best thing for him to do. He couldn’t continue to hold out for a response, and if he had to make a resolution at the beginning of a new year to force himself to let Derek Hale go, well... he supposed that was all he could do.

Tossing the phone onto his nightstand, he kicked at the covers until he could get beneath them, then rolled over and closed his eyes for sleep, intent on starting the new year with a happy and Derek-free disposition.

A loud bang woke Stiles from an uneasy sleep, the teen’s head jerking up off his pillow, a string of drool connecting his mouth to it. He quickly scrubbed his hand over his face to wake himself up more and turned his head towards his window.

He almost had a heart attack at the large shadow he saw looming outside, and he had to wonder what kind of moron would be trying to break into the sheriff’s house.

Probably one who’d noticed the cruiser was gone and figured he could take the sheriff’s son.

Practically falling out of bed, brain still foggy with sleep and eyes attempting to adjust to the darkness, Stiles winced at the pain in his hand and knee from where he hit the ground and crawled quickly for his baseball bat.

Grabbing it with both hands when he heard his window slide open, he scrambled to his feet and whipped around with the weapon raised just as a body fell unceremoniously into his room and lay in a heap on the ground just in front of his window.

Stiles stood frozen, watching the large mass of flesh and clothing, waiting for it to do something, but it didn’t move. It hardly looked like it was breathing.

Shifting forward cautiously, he managed two steps before he could reach out with the bat and nudge at the mass curled up on his floor. It didn’t move, causing him to scowl.

Keeping an eye on the person in his room, he slowly moved backwards, one hand held out behind himself, and felt along the wall until he reached the light switch. Flicking it on, he quickly brought the hand back to the bat so he held it with both hands, and raised it, waiting for an attack.

It didn’t come, and instead of swinging, Stiles dropped the bat.

Red stained the floor in front of his window, a pool of it slowly spreading outward from the unconscious body. Black hair was grown out, greasy and full of leaves. The hand Stiles could see was missing a few nails, and covered in light scratches. The leather jacket was ripped to shreds and the jeans were dirty and holy, blood staining the material.

Even though he couldn’t see his face, even though it had been two years, even though he had just promised himself that this year, this year, would be the year where he never again thought of Derek Hale...

There he fucking was.

Derek fucking Hale.

“Derek,” Stiles breathed, then snapped himself out of his shock and raced to his side. “Derek, hey! Hey, can you hear me?”

He rolled him onto his back, recoiling slightly at the sight that greeted him.

Whatever had gotten Derek hadn’t been kind to him. Large gashes had sliced through his abdomen deep enough to hit bone, and some of Derek’s organs were visible. It made Stiles’ gorge rise and he gagged.

Don’t throw up. Do not throw up, he ordered himself, struggling to get the leather jacket off Derek’s shoulders so he could try and remove his shirt.

At another sound from outside, his head shot up and he leapt for the window, slamming it shut. He looked out into the darkness but saw nothing, the trees swaying in a soft breeze. He wasn’t going to take any chances, though, so he turned and rushed out of his room and down the stairs, almost falling down them in his haste to reach the front door. He grabbed the jar of mountain ash on the hall table and threw a handful towards the front door, feeling the house shudder slightly at the closure of the mountain ash circle. He waited for a second, listening, heart slamming against his ribs, but he heard nothing. If anything was in the house with them, Stiles had hopefully trapped it there.

He realized belatedly that he’d also effectively trapped Derek, too, but he didn’t dwell on that. He just turned and rushed back up the stairs to his room, slamming into his door in his haste to get back to his side.

Derek hadn’t moved an inch and Stiles fell back beside him, returning to working his jacket off and wondering if he should call someone. Scott or Melissa or Deaton, he didn’t know. Did he need a doctor or a vet?

“Figures,” Stiles muttered to himself, finally getting the jacket off and then ripping at the shirt since it was a lost cause anyway. “I make a resolution to forget about your entire broody existence, and you stumble through my window half-dead and covered in blood. I should’ve known it wasn’t going to work. Resolutions are made to be broken, right?”

He knew he was just talking to stop from panicking, but Derek looked... bad. Really bad. He wasn’t sure what he should do, so he just kept stripping him as much as he could, and once Derek was down to his boxer briefs—which had definitely seen better days—he grabbed him under the armpits and dragged him through his room and into the hall. He let out a loud groan of disgust and stared up at the ceiling to avoid looking at the streak of blood that dragging Derek was leaving on the floor.

“Don’t puke. Don’t puke. That isn’t going to help. Everything is fine. Not like Derek’s intestines are half-hanging out of his stomach. No big deal. Everything’s great.”

He got Derek to the bathroom, flipping the light on and leaving a bloody handprint along the white wall. His dad wouldn’t be happy, but hopefully he’d forgive him.

Stiles threw open the cabinet and began digging through it for the First Aid kit. He knew it wouldn’t do much good against what Derek had, but he mostly just needed to staunch the bleeding so that the Werewolf healing could kick in and stop Derek from dying on his bathroom floor.

“Good thing you guys don’t get sick, or infections, or anything,” Stiles muttered, grabbing at some gauze and leaving blood all over the kit. He ignored that and ripped through the packaging, grabbing the wad of material and struggling to figure out where to press it. He went for the part bleeding the most and held it down over the injury. It was soaked through in seconds, and he really worried that Derek wasn’t going to be able to heal this before kicking the bucket.

“Fucking moron, why didn’t you just ring the doorbell? Why did you climb up to my room? What if I hadn’t been home, huh? What then? Jesus, Derek, you should’ve gone to Deaton, or the hospital. Melissa is there, she would’ve made sure everything was okay, no questions asked. You’re so fucking stupid.”

Stiles pressed down harder, knowing it was useless since the gauze was already soaked, but he forced himself to just keep putting pressure on the worst of it. Derek’s blood was bleeding red, so he wasn’t poisoned. That was good, at the very least. It meant he would be able to heal, but if he lost too much blood before then, he’d probably just die no matter what.

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to call someone, but that would mean leaving Derek, and he was scared to leave him alone, so he just sat there putting pressure on the wound, and babbling nonsensically at him.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, or even what time it had been when Derek had crashed into his bedroom, but he heard the front door open quietly downstairs and froze. His heart started beating a mile a minute, and he was two seconds away from a panic attack, thinking whatever had hurt Derek had come to finish him off and mountain ash wasn’t enough to keep it out.

Before the panic could take over, he heard a light turn on and a loud curse before his father’s panicked voice shouted his name.

“Stiles! Stiles, where are you?!”

He couldn’t speak, relief flooding through him while his father pounded up the stairs. He heard an agonized sound from down the corridor, and then his dad was in the doorway, looking like he’d aged ten years in a few short seconds.

Stiles stared up at him from the floor, still pressing against Derek’s chest, covered in blood. It hadn’t occurred to him what his father had probably walked in on. Stiles’ feet were sticky with dried blood, and his hands were coated in it. When he’d gone downstairs, he’d probably left a trail of bloody prints, and then his father had come up to find a trail of blood from having dragged Derek from his bedroom to the bathroom, not to mention Derek’s legs still half-sticking out of the room.

“I don’t know what to do,” Stiles said, voice breathless and small. “Dad, I don’t know what to do.”

It looked like his father was locking away his panic and going into cop mode, because his features shifted and he started rolling up his sleeves, bending down by Derek’s legs and reaching for his wrist. Stiles knew he was checking for a pulse, and he nodded once before pulling his phone from his pocket.

Stiles didn’t really listen while he spoke to someone on the other end, he just heard the sheriff say Melissa’s name a few times. He was evidently trying to get her on the line, and after a brief discussion, he hung up. He reached out one hand and pressed lightly at the area around one of the wounds on Derek’s chest. No blood oozed out, but it wasn’t healing, either.

“What happened?” he asked, voice soft but authoritative.

“I don’t know,” Stiles insisted quietly. “I was sleeping, and I heard a bang, and next thing I know Derek Hale is lying bleeding on my bedroom floor.” He stared down at Derek’s face. At his sunken eyes, his prominent cheekbones, his gaunt features. Something had happened to him, and the first thing he’d done once reaching freedom was break into Stiles’ house.

He supposed it was something familiar. For some reason, Derek always ended up at Stiles’ house when he was about to die. Why couldn’t he just come by to play video games like a normal person?

There was a knock at the front door a few minutes later and his dad left to answer it. He felt the house groan slightly and figured Melissa had brought Scott, otherwise his father wouldn’t have broken the barrier. It was back in place almost instantly, the shudder occurring once more, and Stiles looked up at the soft sound Melissa made from the doorway.

She bent down, still in her scrubs, and reached out to squeeze Stiles’ arm gently. Then she opened her bag and began pulling out supplies, Scott appearing behind her with his dad, face pinched with concern.

He asked what happened, but all Stiles could do was repeat what he’d told his father. He didn’t know what had happened. Derek hadn’t been conscious long enough for him to ask any questions.

Melissa asked Scott to come and help her, so Stiles reluctantly moved out of the way, exiting the bathroom so that Scott and his mother had more room to work. He stood at the door, covered in blood, unsure of what to do with himself. His dad grabbed his shoulder gently and steered him towards his bedroom and into the en-suite, telling him to take a shower.

Stiles didn’t want to, he wanted to help Derek, but he wasn’t going to be able to do anything right now. Melissa was a nurse, and Scott worked with Deaton at the vet clinic. They were the two most qualified people to help Derek right now, so all he would do was get in their way if he tried to help.

Getting into the shower, he finally allowed himself a bit of a break from his control. He crouched down and buried both hands in his hair, breathing heavily and struggling not to have a full blown panic attack.

He knew the only one who could hear him with the water hitting tile would be Scott, but he was a little distracted at the moment so hopefully he wouldn’t be listening.

Stiles gave himself only two minutes to panic, and then forced himself back to his feet, scrubbing hard at all of his skin to ensure all the blood was gone.

When he stepped out of the shower, there was a pair of sweats and a shirt on the counter, along with a fresh towel. The bloody clothes he’d been wearing were gone, evidently taken away while he’d been washing up.

He dried off and pulled the clothes on, existing the bathroom with the towel under his arm and dropping it into his father’s laundry. When he exited his father’s room, he saw the hallway had been cleared of blood, and Derek was missing from the bathroom. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the shower, but evidently long enough for his dad to clean up the mess in the hall, bathroom and his bedroom, given he’d walked by to nothing but the smell of cleaner, and for Melissa and Scott to patch Derek up.

He refused to believe Derek was dead, so he figured they’d patched him up more quickly than usual. Or maybe he’d even started healing.

Descending the stairs, his dad was in the front hall scrubbing at the last of the bloody footprints, still in full uniform and looking like his son’s life was taking more of a toll on him than his job. It made Stiles feel guilty, and he wandered to his dad to take over cleaning duties, but the sheriff waved him away and told him to check on Derek.

Stiles only tried for a few more seconds to get the rag from him, then gave up and went to the living room. Derek was stretched out on the couch, lying on top of a bunch of towels, likely to avoid staining the upholster. Scott was standing behind the couch, looking a little pale, but otherwise determined, and Melissa was taping down the corners of some gauze. A few were already stained with patches of red, but thankfully most of them remained a crisp white.

“How is he?” Stiles asked, moving to Melissa’s side and taking a seat on the coffee table.

“Not good,” she admitted, “but he’ll heal. He already started once I’d gotten most of the bigger wounds patched up, so he’ll be all right. He’s resilient.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile, but didn’t fully look at him.

Stiles watched her for a second longer, then shifted his gaze to Derek. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at him before, but now that he wasn’t bleeding to death on his floor, he could see that it wasn’t just his face that had hollowed out.

His hair and beard were long, unkempt, shaggy and greasy. His torso and arms had lost a lot of muscle, and his boxer briefs hung off narrow hips. It looked like he’d lost all of his muscle mass and quite a bit more weight.

It looked like he’d been tortured, and it made Stiles wonder how long he’d been like this. How long he’d been held captive somewhere, waiting for someone to find him. Waiting for help to come.

Waiting for his pack to save him.

It made his stomach roll and he couldn’t stop the vomit this time. He barely made it to the kitchen before throwing up in the sink, retching painfully and coughing. He spat a few times, struggling to calm his stomach, and dry heaved for another thirty seconds before managing to get himself back under control.

A hand fell onto his back, rubbing soothingly while he stayed bent over the sink, spitting and coughing, the stench of vomit making his nose burn. He turned on the tap with a jerky motion and watched the water swirl the sick down the drain, then reached out to cup water in his hands and rinse out his mouth.

When he turned off the tap, he stayed standing there for a few seconds longer, wanting to make sure he was done before straightening. His dad’s hand fell from his back, but he reached out and pulled Stiles into a hug, holding him tightly.

“You didn’t know, Stiles. It’s not your fault.”

But it was his fault, wasn’t it? They were a pack. Derek had been part of their pack, hadn’t he? They hadn’t always gotten along, and they’d rarely seen eye to eye, but he and Derek had always been there for each other. No matter what, they’d always found each other.

But this time, Derek had been alone. No one had come for him. He’d had to make his own way home, his own way back to where he wanted to be.

Apparently that was Stiles’ bedroom. Apparently the only person he felt safest being around while close to death was the weakest human in their pack.

He let his dad hold him, trying to find comfort in his arms, but eventually it hurt too much and he pulled away, going back into the living room.

Melissa and Scott had been speaking in quiet tones when he walked in, but they stopped at his approach. Melissa took his hand and squeezed it, then released it and looked back at Derek. Scott was scowling down at him, and Stiles knew that he was thinking the same thing he’d been.

He’d failed him as a friend. And as an Alpha.

“I found this,” Scott said quietly, not looking at Stiles, but holding out a phone, the screen cracked. “I charged it in your room for a while. I didn’t turn it on.”

Stiles took it and sat down beside Melissa on the coffee table. When he booted up the phone, the apple logo flashed and he waited while it went through the usual boot-up sequence.

Once it finished, he swiped the bottom and the screen unlocked onto a photo of the pack. It was back when it had still been small, before Scott had even fully agreed to be a part of it. The three of them were there, along with Derek’s betas, Isaac, Boyd and Erica. Lydia was there, too, but no Jackson, Kira or Cora.

No Allison, either.

Stiles didn’t remember when the picture was taken, but it must’ve been early on in the days of the pack. Before everything had gone to hell.

Before everyone had died.

Shaking off the feelings of guilt, Stiles tapped at a few icons, and realized the messages weren’t showing as unread. He opened them, and was surprised to see that his name was at the top of the message box and every single one was showing as opened and read.

There was a response in the message bar, but Derek had never hit send, so it had never made it through to Stiles’ phone.

All it said was his name.

Stiles.

He wondered when Derek had texted it. Had it been when he’d been on the run after escaping, and had been trying to ask for help? Or maybe it had been before that, when he’d been originally captured, and had wanted Stiles to know he was alive and needed help.

Stiles closed out of the messages and checked the call log. There were a lot from Stiles, but after almost every missed call, there was an outgoing call to Derek’s voicemail. Derek had ignored Stiles’ calls, but not his messages. He’d called to listen to them. He’d read every text message. He’d shown up at his house after two years, bloodied and dying.

Stiles ran his arm roughly across his eyes when he felt tears spill over his lashes, sniffing once and clearing his throat, ignoring Scott’s gaze on him and the way Melissa’s hand had come up to rub his back.

He opened Derek’s email and saw a few unread ones from Deaton. The most recent one showed the first few lines which read, “Derek, it’s been almost four months. I’m becoming concerned. Please...”

Anger, hot and sudden, shot through Stiles at the realization that Deaton and Derek had been in communication the past two years, and it had only recently stopped. Instead of saying something to the pack, he’d left Derek to die.

To fucking die!

He was going to punch Deaton in his calm and collected fucking face. The man had known something was wrong, but he’d said nothing. He’d just waited, and that killed Stiles. How could he just leave Derek alone without saying anything to anyone?!

Stiles knew there was nothing that could be done right then, so he tried to calm himself down, focussing instead on the drafts. He was surprised to see over fifty of them in there, and even more surprised to see they all had his email as the recipient.

All these emails, and not one of them had been sent.

He scrolled down a bit until he reached one that went as far back as last year’s first of January. It seemed fitting to read that one first, so he opened it and let his eyes scan over the words.

Stiles, Happy New Year. I’m not one for new years, to be honest, but you seem like someone who enjoys a fresh start. I’ve almost caught up with Kate. Braeden is dead. I should probably feel some remorse but she knew what she was getting into and I told her not to come with me. You’re probably on your winter break right now. Hope university was good. Hope you’re doing well and nothing supernatural came out to ruin it. I’m making a New Year’s resolution this year. I’m going to come home before next year. By New Year’s next year, I’ll be home. I’ll stop being a coward. I’ll finish off with Kate, and I’ll come back, and I’ll get everything out in the open. Maybe I’ll even be brave enough to send this one day. I’ll be there next year. Derek.

Stiles rubbed his arm across his eyes again almost savagely, willing the tears to stop but knowing it wouldn’t help. This entire situation was stupid and unacceptable. He hated everything about it.

He sat there on the coffee table, flipping through all the draft emails to him, reading every single one. Somewhere in the middle of it all, after continuously reading about how Derek thought himself a coward, something dawned on Stiles.

Derek loved him.

It seemed so stupid to even think about, that someone as gorgeous and desirable as Derek Hale would want a skinny spastic kid like Stiles, but the more he read, the more he realized that was what was going on.

Derek Hale was in love with him.

And that only made things a million times worse, because Stiles hadn’t been there for him. Stiles had given up on him. Sure, it had literally been six hours ago according to the time, but it didn’t matter. Stiles had given up on Derek, and all this time Derek had been running from him because he was too afraid of being hurt again.

The guilt Stiles felt almost overwhelmed him, and Scott came to stand beside him, bumping his shoulder with his elbow, and then crouching so they were closer to eye level. Stiles shifted his gaze to him, but didn’t turn his head, still gripping the phone tightly.

“We couldn’t have known,” Scott insisted, and Stiles realized he looked just as guilty as Stiles felt. “We couldn’t have known something had happened to him. He shut us out. He stopped talking to us.”

“Talked to Deaton,” Stiles said bitterly, turning the phone slightly to show Scott. “You’d think the doc would’ve mentioned when Derek went dark.”

Scott winced at that, but said nothing. Stiles figured he would have a talk with Deaton later, which was probably for the best, given Stiles wouldn’t be very forgiving if he was the one to head over there.

“I think he loved me,” Stiles said quietly after a few moments of silence, the four in the room watching Derek sleep.

“I know.”

Stiles’ head snapped towards Scott and his friend had the decency to look ashamed, turning his face away and rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Werewolf,” Scott muttered. “Kind of hard to miss.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles demanded, turning to him fully, angling his body in his direction and trying to keep the anger out of his voice. He didn’t think he succeeded. “You knew how I felt about him, why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because, he also knew how you felt,” Scott insisted, still wincing and pressing his lips together, avoiding looking at Stiles. “If he knew how you felt, and felt the same way, and did nothing about it, how could I tell you?”

“I would’ve—”

“What?” Scott asked, turning to him, expression hard. “What would you have done, Stiles? This is Derek. He wouldn’t have let you in.”

“He might’ve,” Stiles muttered, turning back to Derek, not even believing himself.

They sat in silence for another hour before Melissa and Scott finally left and his dad coaxed him back to bed. Stiles checked the house twice to make sure nothing had entered while the barrier had been down for Scott’s exit, and then finally returned to his room, glancing over his shoulder on the way up the stairs to watch Derek on the couch until he was out of sight.

Once he was back in bed, he tossed and turned for what felt like hours before his eyes began to sting and he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Stiles wasn’t sure what had woken him up. Whether it was a noise, or the light outside streaming through his curtains, or even just his brain insisting he’d slept long enough. All he knew was that the moment he came back to consciousness, every hair on his body rose on end and he could feel someone watching him.

Slowly opening his eyes, it took a second for them to adjust, and he came face to face with another person.

Letting out a shout and flailing backwards, he smacked his attacker in the face with one wild hand and scrambled across the bed, slamming hard into the wall. His heart beat a mile a minute and he looked around wildly for some kind of weapon before realizing the person he’d smacked had fallen on their ass and was now just sitting on the floor, staring up at him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Stiles shouted angrily, flailing his arms helplessly. “You don’t crouch down beside someone’s bed and watch them sleep like a creepy creeper! What’s wrong with you?!”

Stiles’ door opened, but he could tell by the lack of urgency that his father was moreso checking whether or not everyone was alive as opposed to checking for any danger.

He turned to glare at the sheriff, who was leaning sideways against the doorframe, one arm crossed over his chest and the other holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, son.”

“Don’t ‘morning’ me!” Stiles massaged his chest, trying to force his heart to calm down, and turned back to the heap still sprawled on his ass on the floor.

Derek looked leagues better than he had the night before. That probably wasn’t a hard contest to win, considering he wasn’t covered in blood anymore. He’d been given new clothes—his dad’s, from the looks of it—and had trimmed his hair and shaved most of his beard. He looked almost the same as he had when he left, except a lot thinner and with less muscle.

He was just sitting there, staring up at Stiles like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Like he thought he was dreaming and he was just waiting to wake up.

Stiles dragged one hand across his face in a manner very reminiscent of his dad and turned to the man standing at the door. “Can you give us a minute?”

The sheriff shrugged, then looked at Derek. “Food’s ready when you want to come down and eat.” Then he grabbed the doorknob and shut the bedroom door.

Stiles turned back to Derek, who was still staring at him like this was a cruel joke. Stiles would’ve snapped at him for being stupid enough to think a joke or a dream would’ve been flailing hard enough to smack him in the face, but it looked like Derek had been through a lot so he reigned it in.

Shuffling forward on his bed, he sat on the edge and stared down at the Werewolf, waiting for him to do or say something.

When he didn’t, Stiles sighed and rubbed at his face again, then climbed off the bed and sat on the floor across from Derek. He held up both hands, Derek giving him a confused look, and then slowly began to count his fingers, lowering each one as he counted.

When he got to ten, Derek finally shifted into a normal seated position, staring at Stiles like he still thought this wasn’t real.

Stiles let the silence hang for only a few moments before he couldn’t handle it anymore. “You don’t write, you don’t call, you don’t text. You just show up bleeding all over my floor and expect me to patch you up. I’m gonna start charging rent for how often you end up in my bedroom.” He tried for a smile, and almost succeeded.

“I had nowhere else to go.” Derek’s voice was low, rough, but it was still his and it made Stiles feel things. It had been so long since he’d heard it outside of the short voicemail message wherein an electronic voice did most of the talking and all Derek had done was provide his name for the recording.

He had never wished so badly for Derek to speak in his life.

“You always have somewhere to go,” Stiles insisted quietly. “We’re pack. You could’ve called. Could’ve let us know you were alive. We all thought you were dead.”

Derek didn’t say anything, and that was frustrating enough that Stiles let out an annoyed sigh, picking at the skin around his fingernails without even looking at them.

“What happened? Where did you go? Did you find Kate?”

Derek’s face closed off, and while Stiles was annoyed, he wasn’t exactly surprised. The fact that his expression had been open and honest a moment ago was a late Christmas miracle, really.

“I found Kate in April. She’s no longer a problem.”

“You mean you killed her.”

“I mean she won’t be bothering us anymore.” His tone suggested Stiles should drop it before he regretted it.

Stiles had never really been good at taking cues. “If you killed Kate back in April, why did it take you so long to come home?” His eyes strayed to Derek’s covered torso. “What happened after Kate?”

“I ran into some feral Werewolves. A lot of them. They’re in a sort of pack, which shouldn’t be possible.”

“Well, a lot of impossible things seem to happen to us, so, you know.” Stiles shrugged, eying Derek again. “Did they do that to you?” He jerked his chin in Derek’s direction, implying his injuries.

“They had an Alpha. He wasn’t feral, he was smart, and he kept them all in line. He was trying to build a feral army, take over territories.” Stiles didn’t miss the past tense.

“Dead?”

“He won’t be a problem anymore,” Derek said, using similar wording as he had with Kate. He scowled then, and said, “He tried to turn me feral.”

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat at that and he stared at Derek, watching his expression, the way he sat so perfectly still. It was like a part of him had gone feral, but had then clawed its way back to sanity. Like Derek had lost himself and then struggled to maintain a piece of him that would stop him from teetering over that last edge.

“It didn’t work,” Stiles said softly.

Silence for a long while, and Stiles was almost positive that Derek was done speaking until he said, very quietly,

“It almost did.”

“But it didn’t,” Stiles insisted, scooting closer and drumming his fingers on his knees. “You’re still you. You came back.”

“I held on,” Derek corrected. “It was hard, and most of the time, I didn’t think I would make it. But I had my anchor, and I held on.”

“When did you escape?”

“Three days ago. Without their Alpha, the ferals came after me, caught up at some point. Some of them are also Alphas.” He motioned his chest briefly with a flick of one hand. That explained why it had taken them so long to heal, why Melissa had been forced to put in stitches.

“Why didn’t you call?” Stiles asked quietly.

“I didn’t want to endanger your pack. I wanted to either lose them or get rid of them before I reached the border. I don’t know how many there are out there right now, but the ones that followed me shouldn’t cause any more problems.”

Stiles stared at him for a long while, his words echoing in his ears and a stabbing pain in his chest.

Your pack. Not our pack.

Derek didn’t consider himself a part of their pack. Even though he was only a Beta now, even though they’d been fighting side by side for years, he still didn’t consider himself part of the pack. And that stung, because it meant he didn’t consider Stiles a part of his pack.

After a moment, one during which Stiles ignored the fact that Derek was watching him, a frown creasing his brows, he stood and turned towards the door, clearing his throat.

“Dad said food was ready so we should head down and eat before it gets cold.”

“Stiles—”

He didn’t answer, he just opened the bedroom door and exited his room, heading for the stairs. He’d made it to the end of the corridor before Derek’s hand closed around his arm and tugged him back, forcing him to turn.

“Why are you upset?” Derek demanded, frustration creeping into his tone. “I was trying to keep everyone safe.”

“We could’ve helped you, Derek,” Stiles snapped, yanking his arm free. “If you’d called us, we could’ve come to help you. You wouldn’t have gotten torn to shit and then stumbled half dead into my room. What if I hadn’t been home? What if I was still at school and it was just dad here? He was on shift last night, no one would’ve found you for hours. You would’ve died!”

“I didn’t need anyone’s help getting away from them.”

“That’s the problem, Derek!” Stiles shouted. “You do need help, you just won’t ask for it! For fuck’s sake, you don’t even consider yourself part of our Pack! We’re a Pack, Derek! All of us! Including you!”

Derek’s anger seemed to peak and he let go of Stiles’ arm, staring at him with his expression closed off and his eyes blazing.

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.” He pushed past Stiles to head down the stairs.

“Yeah, that’s right Derek, just run away!” Stiles shouted after him, following him quickly down the stairs. “Run away, like you always do! It’s what you’re good at!”

Derek slammed the front door so hard behind him that the wood splintered.

“Coward!” Stiles bellowed, knowing that even without enhanced hearing, Derek would’ve heard him.

He stood in the front entrance for a long while, fists clenched and chest heaving. Derek was infuriating, Stiles had no fucking idea why he even liked him. He should’ve just stuck to his resolution, but that had been impossible when the moron had fallen head first into his stupid bedroom.

Stiles didn’t realize how much time had passed until his father walked up behind him, standing silently for a few moments.

“Everything all right?”

“Fine, Derek’s just being a stubborn asshole.” Stiles turned on his heel and moved past his dad to the kitchen so he could grab some food.

“Derek’s not the only one being stubborn.”

Stiles whipped around to glare at his father, the sheriff looking anywhere but at his son while taking a sip of his coffee, trying to pretend he hadn’t said anything.

“He needs to stop acting like help won’t be given to him if he asks for it!” Stiles insisted, unable to believe his father was taking Derek’s side! “Doesn’t he understand how much we care about him?”

“I don’t think he does, son.”

Stiles’ head snapped back, his dad moving closer and patting his shoulder while passing him to head into the kitchen. Stiles turned to follow him, moving to take a seat at the table and scowling at the eggs and bacon on his plate. There was another one sitting at an empty spot, and his father’s place was empty, which meant he’d already eaten.

He gave his dad a look, annoyed that he’d had bacon, and even eggs, which weren’t the best for him if he didn’t cut out the yolk. The sheriff just raised his eyebrows at him, leaning back against the counter and pouring himself another cup of coffee.

“Derek’s an idiot,” Stiles insisted, turning to stab angrily at his breakfast and shoving large forkfulls into his mouth. Some of the yolk dribbled down his chin and he snatched up some paper napkins to wipe at his mouth, but didn’t slow in his chewing.

“Derek has led a complicated life. You know that better than anyone. You and Scott are all he has, and he isn’t going to endanger your lives to help himself. I’d have thought you’d know him better than that by now.”

Stiles didn’t deem that worthy of a response and just finished chowing down on his food. When he stood to leave, dumping the dishes in the sink, his father held out a piece of paper. Stiles frowned, but took it.

“What’s this?”

“Derek’s number. Scott told me you deleted it last night before he showed up. I took the liberty of asking him for it.”

Stiles almost wanted to shove it back at him, but resisted the urge. He thanked his father for breakfast and headed back to his room to change. Once he was dressed, he left the house and got into the Jeep.

He didn’t even know where he was headed until he stopped in front of the preserve. He knew Derek wouldn’t be there, the Hale house had long ago been torn down, and he was sure Derek still had the loft. Then again, Derek had mentioned having nowhere else to go, so maybe the loft had been repossessed due to lapse in payment.

Turning off the engine, Stiles kicked open the door anyway and climbed out of the Jeep. He headed into the preserve, pushing branches out of his way and following the trails until he reached the clearing where the old Hale house used to be.

The foundation hadn’t been torn out entirely yet, but the wood frame was gone. The area was overgrown and Stiles wondered if anyone was going to build here ever again or if the tragedy that had occurred and left a dark mark on the area meant no one would dare touch it again.

Stiles took a seat in a spot that didn’t look like it was full of mud and let his arms rest over his bent knees. He knew his father was right, and he was being unfair, but Derek had always been really good at infuriating him.

It didn’t help that he’d read all those stupid emails Derek had never sent, and found out from Scott that someone he’d cared about in many different ways had felt the same as him. He wanted to be angry at Derek for being a coward, angry at Scott for lying, angry at his father for taking Derek’s side, angry at Deaton for lying to them all.

He lacked the energy, so instead, he just sat staring at what was left of the torn down house and wondered where Derek had run off to. Maybe he’d left town again. Wouldn’t surprise him, if he was honest.

After half an hour of sitting there, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and the piece of paper from his dad. It felt like a loss when he programmed the number back into his phone, the sent messages with an “unknown number” as the header now showing Derek’s name again.

His resolution hadn’t even lasted one entire day. He supposed they were made to be broken, nobody ever stuck to their resolutions. It was stupid to think that making yourself a promise on the first day of a new year meant it would stick.

Stiles debated calling Derek for a few minutes, but then shoved the phone back into his pocket and kept staring at the house. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually his stomach began to complain its lack of nourishment and he stood to head back for the Jeep.

He was walking through the forest when he heard something snap behind him. Whipping around, he scanned the area, heart slamming in his chest and palms beginning to sweat.

“Scotty?” He knew it was stupid to assume it would be a friendly, but Stiles was nothing if not optimistic when it came to situations where he feared for his life.

He received no response, which meant either something bad, or something non-existent. Turning, Stiles headed quickly back down the path towards his vehicle, keeping an ear out for sounds of something following. His mind flashed back to what Derek had said, about the feral wolves and the cruel Alpha. Suddenly, walking around alone in the middle of the forest without telling anyone where he’d gone didn’t seem like the smartest idea in the world.

When he heard footsteps crunching through the underbrush behind him, Stiles gave in to panic and started sprinting for his car. He knew it was stupid, and even as he did it, a part of him was screaming at him that running was the worst idea in the world because wolves liked chasing things! But he couldn’t help it, it was instinctive. Fight or flight, and he knew there was no way in hell he could win a fight.

He’d just passed one of the last bends in the trail before he’d reach the road when he heard a growl behind him and something jumped onto his back. Letting out a shout, he crashed hard into the path, tasting dirt in his mouth and scraping the bottom of his chin and hands on the fall.

Something heavy was on top of him, growling low in the back of their throat, and Stiles lay absolutely still, heart pounding and breath frozen in his lungs.

Was this it? Was this how he died? Distracted by Derek Hale in the middle of the preserve on the first day of the year? Stiles really hated the new year!

Clenching his eyes shut when he felt hot breath ghosting over the back of his neck, he waited for the inevitable.

It didn’t come.

He just kept feeling hot breath ghosting along his neck, and then a face buried itself in his hair and inhaled deeply. A low, pleased rumble met his ears, and then stubble was rubbing against the exposed skin of his neck.

Stiles lay motionless for a few seconds, brain slowly trying to establish what was going on before it finally clicked.

“Derek?” he asked cautiously.

The body above him froze and he felt the stubble disappear from the back of his neck. When the weight left him, Stiles slowly shifted so he could roll onto his back and sit up, staring up at Derek. He looked a mix of horrified and ashamed before his mask was back in place, expression closed off while he stared down at Stiles.

Reaching up with one hand, Stiles wiped at his chin, coming away with a bit of blood but not enough to be concerned. His hands ached and were scratched in places, but the wounds weren’t deep and hadn’t even bled, so he just rubbed them against his jeans, ignoring the sting, and held one hand out to Derek.

When Derek didn’t take it, Stiles shook it insistently. “Well, big guy? You gonna help me up, or what?”

Derek scowled but reached out one hand to clasp Stiles’, pulling him to his feet so roughly he almost dislocated his arm. Stiles rotated his shoulder when Derek released him and eyed the Werewolf thoughtfully.

“Were you following me?”

“I was worried,” Derek admitted through grit teeth, as if having to do so was painful.

Stiles rubbed at his chin again, scowling down at the streak of blood on his hand, and looked back up at Derek. “Did you lose control for a second? What you just did isn’t exactly normal for you.”

Derek didn’t answer, not that Stiles expected him to. He just rolled his eyes and motioned for Derek to follow while he headed for the Jeep. He was only slightly surprised that he did, the two of them climbing in.

Stiles drove them back into town to one of the diners, parking out front and then leading the way inside. When they sat down in one of the booths, Stiles watched Derek. His gaze kept shifting from the door, to the people, to the bar, to Stiles, over and over again. He never focussed on anything for any length of time, and Stiles had to wonder if the wolf was still in control.

Against his better judgement, he reached out one hand to place it on Derek’s arm. The Werewolf stiffened, staring down at the hand, then up at Stiles. They had a mini stare-off until the waitress came by and Stiles retreated his hand. He ordered a burger with curly fries and a milkshake. Derek grunted that he wasn’t hungry, but Stiles just ordered the same thing for him and the waitress left them alone.

“It’s fine to say you don’t have any money, you know.” Stiles chased the straw in his water with his tongue for a few seconds before finally getting it into his mouth and sucking some down. Derek just kept scowling at him and Stiles rolled his eyes. “What happened to the loft?”

“Nothing. I checked on it earlier. It’s fine.”

“Dusty, probably.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, which was doing nothing for Stiles’ nerves, so he started talking to Derek about school, for lack of anything better to talk about. He told him about his campus and his classes, and about how he had spent most of the semester on bad terms with one of his professors because they didn’t see eye to eye on the topics they were discussing.

Derek listened the entire time without saying a word, and when the food came, he even ate it instead of being a stubborn ass and insisting he wasn’t hungry.

Stiles could see his ribs. Derek was definitely fucking hungry.

The conversation was mostly carried by Stiles, but that wasn’t anything new, so he didn’t let that bother him. They were heading back to the Jeep so Stiles could drop Derek off at the loft when Derek spoke so quietly that Stiles almost missed his words over the sound of his own voice.

“You ran.”

“Huh?” Stiles stopped beside the car, turning to Derek.

“Earlier. In the woods. You ran.”

Stiles scratched idly at his cheek and shrugged. “Well, yeah. You didn’t exactly make it known it was you. I thought it was something else that went bump in the night. If you’d just come out and said it was you, I wouldn’t have run away.”

Derek scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, the action extremely defensive.

“The wolf took over because you made yourself prey. If you hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have gone after you like that.”

“Oh.” Stiles didn’t really know what to say to that, flipping the car keys in his hand, watching Derek’s face. “So I was right, then. You lost control because I ran.”

Derek’s teeth were grinding so hard, Stiles could hear them, but he spoke anyway. “I like chasing things.”

“Do you usually nuzzle them when you catch them?” Stiles tried for teasing, but the murderous look he received in return had him rethinking that strategy.

“No, I tear out their throats.”

“Well, thanks for not tearing mine out,” Stiles said awkwardly.

Derek was still grinding his teeth, and when he took a step forward, Stiles took one back into the Jeep, pressing himself flat against the door.

“It’s—hard right now. The wolf is trying to come out, and I can’t...” Derek scowled, clearly frustrated and unable to explain what he was trying to say.

“I get it,” Stiles said quietly. “You almost went feral, and you’re still working on it. But you didn’t go full wolf, so that’s a good thing, right? You’ll be okay, you just need to spend time with people.” It explained why Derek was so twitchy. Maybe Stiles shouldn’t have brought him out to a public place like this for lunch.

Then again, lunch was over and he hadn’t mauled anyone so, progress!

“Are you staying at the loft right now?”

“I have nowhere else.”

Stiles chewed on his lower lip, watching Derek as the Werewolf looked anywhere but at him.

“You can stay with my dad and I for a while, if you want. Dad won’t mind.” I hope, Stiles added silently.

Derek hesitated, scowling at something across the street. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

They stood in silence for a second, and then Derek’s face twitched slightly. When he shifted his gaze back at Stiles, his eyes were glowing blue and he took a step forward. Stiles had nowhere to go, already pressed back against the side of the Jeep. Derek got into his personal space, eyes still blue, and bent his head down until his breath ghosted along Stiles’ neck.

Stiles tried to stop the fear from rising, tried to remind himself this was Derek, but it was hard when his eyes were glowing, he’d literally just said the wolf was taking over without him being able to reign it in, and he was now dragging his teeth across his neck!

“Derek?” Stiles said cautiously, feeling the Werewolf’s nose drag along the column of his throat, inhaling deeply. He dragged his teeth back down his neck, very sharp, inhuman teeth, pressing them against the juncture where neck and shoulder met.

“Derek?” he said again, louder.

Derek froze where he was, as if just now realizing what he was doing, and he took a step back, eyes slowly fading back to their usual green colour and fangs returning to normal human teeth.

“You were my anchor,” Derek admitted, eyes still on Stiles’ throat. “You were the one thing my human side and my wolf side could focus on. Being close to you right now, without being in control of the wolf... I can’t. I might do something I can’t take back.”

Stiles’ heart was beating somewhere up in his throat. “Like what?” he asked quietly.

Derek’s eyes snapped up to his face. His eyes flashed blue for only a moment before returning to their usual green.

“I have a lot of mountain ash, you know.” Stiles shrugged. “We can always make a path for you from the guest room to the bathroom and down to the first floor. If we keep you in an area where you can’t come to us, but are still close enough, it might help.” He scratched at his cheek again, wondering if his dad would actually go for this. “If I was your anchor before, I mean, it makes sense I’d be able to help you even more now. I don’t think having you alone in the loft is going to do much for your humanity.” Stiles grinned. “Not that you’ve ever had much of that.”

“Thanks,” Derek said dryly, giving Stiles a look.

“Come on, Sourwolf.” Stiles hit him lightly on the shoulder. “Get in the car. We can sort everything out once we get to the house.”

Stiles climbed into the Jeep and waited for Derek to come around the other side. Once they were on their way home, Stiles looked over and found Derek staring down at his hands, counting his fingers. He reached out one hand without a word, took one of Derek’s, and threaded their fingers together.

Derek didn’t look at him, or say anything, but he squeezed back and Stiles smiled.

It was insane for Stiles to think that it was still only the first of January. This entire day felt like it had lasted two weeks, and he wasn’t sure he knew what to do with himself. He had a semi-feral Werewolf in his spare room, his dad was working and not happy about the semi-feral Werewolf thing, and he had so many weird paths of mountain ash in his house that he felt like he was playing ‘the floor is lava’ every time he tried to move between rooms.

Derek was still a little weird, eyes darting around every now and then and sitting tense whenever he and Stiles were a little too close. His eyes flashed blue at one point when Stiles had been standing up from changing a disc in the DVD player and in a way, it was a good thing they both knew the other liked them or the whole wolf being all over Stiles thing would’ve been weird.

Stiles ordered pizza for dinner, vowing to try and make real food for the next day considering all he’d fed Derek since his arrival was a burger, fries, a milkshake and pizza. Probably not the best thing to be giving a semi-feral, starved Werewolf on his first day back.

He let Derek have the shower first, and then had to close the mountain ash barrier that led to the bathroom to avoid any unexpected visits while he was cleaning up. The last thing he needed was to turn around and find a blue-eyed Werewolf in the shower with him, and while he wouldn’t necessarily mind seeing Derek naked, he wasn’t sure he wanted that right now.

Once he was clean and changed out, he fixed the mountain ash barrier so that Derek would have access to the bathroom again and went to dump his clothes into his laundry. Before heading to bed, he went to check on Derek, finding him sitting on the edge of the guest bed staring down at his hands again.

“You okay?”

He knew it was a stupid question to ask, but he needed to ask it anyway. He doubted he’d get a real answer, but sometimes Derek could surprise him.

“I keep worrying this isn’t real,” he admitted quietly, lowering one finger at a time, counting silently. Stiles waited until he was done before moving further into the room and sitting on the bed beside him.

“I’m the expert at not knowing when things are real.” Stiles looked down at his own hands, but clenched them into fists instead of counting them. “It gets easier.”

“Do you still think about it?” Stiles gave Derek a quizzical look. “The Nogitsune?”

Wincing, Stiles looked back down at his hands. “Sometimes. Less often than I used to, but enough for it to concern my dad. But it’s one of those things that just happened. It happened, and now I just need to deal with it.” He turned back to Derek and grinned. “Come on, big guy.” He slapped him on the shoulder. “Get some rest. We can have an angst-fest tomorrow morning over coffee.”

Derek scowled at him but didn’t argue, he just watched Stiles leave the room and shut the door.

Stiles checked that all the doors were locked, made sure the overall outer barrier was in place, and then double-checked the inner barrier. When everything had been looked over, he went to his room and shut the door.

He watched some Netflix on his computer for a while, texting Scott about everything that had happened throughout the day, and then finally calling it a night around ten. It was earlier than he usually went to bed at, but the day had been mentally and physically exhausting, not to mention he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

He shifted uncomfortably in bed for a while, rolling over back and forth and trying to get comfortable. When he glanced at the clock, he saw it was just past eleven and sighed, falling onto his back and staring up at his ceiling.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Derek in the room next door, lying in a room surrounded by mountain ash, having to be kept on a leash because he might lose himself. Stiles hated that thought. He hated that Derek was worried about what he might do.

Even more, he hated the thought that Derek might run again. What if Stiles broke the barrier to go out tomorrow and Derek just left again? He didn’t want to lose him again, he didn’t want to forget about him, he didn’t want to stick to his stupid New Year’s resolution.

After tossing and turning for another fifteen minutes, Stiles kicked the covers off himself viciously and rolled out of bed. He rearranged his shirt when it twisted awkwardly around his torso and wandered out into the corridor. He hesitated for only a second before opening the spare room door, poking his head in to see if Derek was still awake.

He was lying on his back, head tilted towards the door, but his chest rose and fell slowly in sleep. Stiles snuck quietly into the room and stopped beside the bed, staring down at him. Derek always looked so different when he slept. Peaceful. Like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Now that Kate was gone, Stiles wondered what Derek would do next. Knowing him, probably go out and hunt down all the feral wolves the death of the Alpha had released into the wild, but that wasn’t a good idea in his current state. Stiles idly wondered if he could just take Derek back to the dorm with him. He had a single room, he and Derek could stay in there together, no problem.

Probably not the best idea, but he worried about leaving him alone. Maybe he could stay in the house, spend time with the sheriff, try and get himself a bit more grounded.

“I thought staring made people creepy creepers,” a sleep-filled voice said in the darkness.

Stiles started, and focussed back on Derek’s face. His eyes were open, and while they were still green, he had a blue ring around the outside of his iris, as if the wolf were trying to take over and he was just barely holding it at bay.

“I wasn’t staring, I was thinking.”

“You were staring.”

“I was thinking while looking in your general direction.”

Derek gave him a look, with the eyebrows and the face, and God Stiles had missed him.

“What are you doing in here, Stiles?”

“I told you, I was thinking.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, the two of them watching one another. “I was just worried about you. About what happens when I go back to school.”

Derek said nothing and Stiles knew he was trying not to think about it. At least that was a week away, so they had time to sort things out.

Without thinking, Stiles reached out and dragged his nails through Derek’s stubble, scratching along his skin and watching Derek’s nostrils flare and his eyes brighten. Before he could say anything, he let out a shout when his arm was grabbed and he was tossed onto his back on the bed, Derek looming over him, eyes a startling blue.

Neither of them moved, Stiles lying motionless on the bed and Derek hovering above him. He could hear him growling low in his throat, and the arms on either side of his head were trembling slightly. It looked like Derek was struggling to stay in control.

Carefully, Stiles shifted, raising his arms and wrapping them around Derek’s neck. Derek’s growl deepened, but it wasn’t a scary growl that preceded blood and violence and throat-ripping. It was more like a content growl, the kind dogs had when they were playing and excited.

Slowly, Stiles tugged Derek down, and he could tell Derek wanted to pull back, to resist, but he didn’t. He just allowed Stiles to pull him down and hug him tightly, his face buried in Stiles’ neck.

“You’re not going to hurt me, you know,” he whispered, one hand remaining on the back of Derek’s neck and the other rubbing along his spine. “I trust you. Even if the wolf peeks out, you said it doesn’t want to hurt me, either.”

Derek was still growling against his neck, and Stiles felt teeth dragging along his throat. Derek was mouthing at his skin, exhaling sharply every few seconds and then inhaling deeply, burying his face further into his neck.

Stiles just stayed where he was, one hand rubbing lightly up and down Derek’s back and the other scratching at his hair near the base of his skull. Derek seemed content to just lie there, mouthing at his neck, and Stiles wasn’t sure how long they lay there in silence before his mouth ran away with him.

“How come you never told me you liked me?”

Derek froze but Stiles continued running his hand along his back and through his hair. He didn’t let Derek pull away when he tried, just held on tightly and waited for him to settle again. Derek said nothing, but after a few seconds he tightened his hold on Stiles and breathed against his neck.

“Is it because of what happened?” Stiles asked. “With Kate? You’re scared to let me in?”

“You’re not Kate,” Derek’s muffled voice responded.

“At least you acknowledge that,” Stiles teased. When Derek said nothing else, he asked, “Are you afraid?”

“I don’t deserve to be happy.”

Stiles smacked his back hard, which caused Derek to jerk up and scowl down at him.

“Don’t be an idiot, Derek. You have paid the price ten fold for any wrongs you think you’ve committed in your life. Stop being self-sacrificing and recognize that you’re allowed to be happy if you want to be. Whether that’s with me or someone else doesn’t matter, but you need to stop pretending that everything you’ve done makes you unworthy of being happy.”

He flicked Derek’s ear for good measure and earned himself a scowl. He just returned that look with a grin and pulled at Derek to get him back down on top of him again. He resisted at first, but only for a second, then settled himself back on Stiles’ chest, face buried in his neck. Stiles shifted so they were more comfortable, Derek between his legs and the pillow lowered a little so it wasn’t just hitting the top of his head.

Once they were both comfortable, he closed his eyes for sleep, running his hand up and down Derek’s spine. He was just in that space between being awake and unconscious when Derek shifted again and he felt the barest pressure against his lips. Derek’s lips were chapped, and unsure, but it was probably the best kiss Stiles had ever experienced.

He opened his eyes and saw uncertainty in Derek’s face, the edges of his irises blue again. Stiles just smiled and pulled him back down, pressing his lips more insistently against Derek’s. He heard fabric ripping and figured Derek’s claws were doing a number on the bedsheets, but that was okay, they’d survive. He’d just get some help sewing them back together in the morning.

“You’re an idiot,” Stiles said between chaste kisses, his hand cradling Derek’s cheek, thumb rubbing gently at the skin beneath his right eye.

“Probably, if I’m trying to make this work with you.”

Stiles laughed, leaning up to kiss Derek lightly again, then fell back onto the bed fully.

“Happy New Year, Derek.”

“Happy New Year,” Derek replied, settling against him once more. “Have any resolutions?”

“I did, but I couldn’t keep it. Lasted about six hours.”

Derek’s laugh was an unexpected warmth in Stiles’ chest, and he smiled against the Werewolf’s hair, holding him more tightly.

“That’s okay, there’s always next year,” Derek said. “Besides, resolutions are made to be broken.”

“In this particular case, truer words were never spoken.”

Stiles kissed Derek’s temple and settled in for sleep. Maybe he hadn’t kept his resolution this year, but he supposed when it came to Derek, he should’ve known better.

He’d never been good with staying away from him, and apparently, Derek didn’t like the thought of being forgotten.

Why else would he have fallen through Stiles’ window?

END.

[janyolski]

Fic: The One With The Dog Mom And Hot Vet

Chapter 6: The One With The Birthday Party

Link to the whole story on FFN | AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Summary: AU. Cosima is a crazy loving dog mom and Delphine is a crazy hot veterinarian. Cosima is also super gay. Mrs. S, Sarah, Felix, and Kira make their appearances!

"Wait, you mean the vet Kira keeps talking about?"

Sarah Manning's voice comes through the phone Cosima has tucked between her ear and shoulder as she pours dog food into Pancho's dog bowl.

The older sister (only by eleven months) speaks with an Irish/British accent from growing up and being raised by Mrs. S. in London. Sarah was definitely the rebel, wearing her hair in a permanent bedhead which she claims is sexy, and her fair share of stories of wild nights and trouble-making for her foster mother. Sarah grew up with a natural disdain for school and learning institutions, with a knack for pissing off and butting heads with authority figures, her foster mother included. Mrs. S. labeled her as the Trouble Monkey while Felix, her other foster child, was the Fabulous Art Monkey, as a joke. Of course, this was no less accurate.

Cosima, on the other hand grew up in San Francisco Bay Area, on a boat to parents who were professors at Berkeley. She lived, breathed knowledge and learning. She transferred to Canada for a PhD scholarship grant and to be with her sister. Mrs. S. labeled her the geek monkey.

The two sisters grew up in two different continents and their differences were innumerable. But, while each having a personality that's worlds apart from the other, their resemblance and connection was absolutely undeniable the moment they met. Side by side, they looked like identical twins.

"Yes. That's her. Have you met her?"

Cosima places the food bowl in the puppy's pen. Pancho is already up on his hind legs, leaning against the plastic fence of his playpen, tail wagging like mad in excitement for his food. He starts digging in before the bowl even touches the ground.

"No, haven't met her yet. S and Kira are always the ones who take the dog to the vet."

Cosima mumbles an 'mhmm'. Sarah would never be bothered to do something like that.

"Dude… The first time I saw her, I puked rainbows."

Her older sister's laughter rings through her ears.

"That hot, eh?"

Cosima moves to her cupboard, grabs the box of Frosties and sets it on the table. She then grabs a bowl, a spoon, turns to the fridge and grabs the milk.

"I mean… Just… Phew."

She pours cereal into her bowl, then pours milk.

"Mmhm. Yeah. So, do you want me to wing you on my kid's birthday party?"

Cosima almost drops the carton of milk as she pours some over the cereal. She thinks she would have thrown it at her sister if Sarah were across her.

"No! Absolutely not. Sarah, it's your kid's birthday party… my niece! And I love you, but you're the shittiest wing-woman ever."

Sarah laughs again.

"You telling me about this woman and her being invited to the party means you want me to help you. You know can't do this without me."

Cosima digs into her cereal. Sarah could hear the crunching and munching over the line. The older sister speaks before Cosima could respond to her challenge.

"Cos, are you eating shite food again?"

Cosima swallows.

"Dude, if I wanted to be winged, Felix would do a better job than you. And I'm not eating shite food. I'm having cereal."

The pet owner laughs at her own imitation of Sarah cursing. Sarah doesn't even comment on her sister mocking her.

"For dinner? Jesus fuck. You have to eat better food Cosima. And I know you secretly enjoy it when I wing you."

Cosima scoffs.

"Sarah, you are worse than a group of middle schoolers teasing me about a crush. I do not want to be humiliated in front of this one, please."

Sarah laughs at her again.

"Cos, you know you love it because you get to bond with your favorite sister."

"Dude, Felix is my favorite sister. Not you."

Cosima laughs this time. It was true. Not the Felix is her favorite sister part, because she loves them both equally, but the part about her enjoying Sarah playing wing-woman. It was for the simple fact that she gets to share a bonding moment with her long-lost sister. If Sarah's attempts were not successful, it at least made for funny stories to tell Mrs. S. However, they usually do this in bars where Cosima knows no one and her good name wasn't really at stake.

"Oi, Cos, I have to put Kira to bed. Talk to you later, yeah?"

"Okay. Tell monkey that I love her. And good night to you both."

"Yeah, okay. Good night, Cos. Bye."

"Bye."

Sarah hangs up. Cosima puts her phone down and continues eating her cereal. She thinks about the French doctor and hopes that Sarah doesn't have too much fun trying to be her wing-woman.

"Auntie Cosima!"

The birthday girl immediately comes running to her the moment she stepped foot inside Mrs. S' house. Cosima bends down to catch her in a hug.

"Hey, monkey- oof!"

Kira throws her arms around her aunt's neck and the child almost tackles the woman to the ground. Cosima chuckles at her niece's excitement to see her. Pancho, who she brought along, of course, was walking at her side. The puppy was definitely infected by Kira's excitement and is wagging his tail and barking for Kira's attention.

"Happy birthday!"

Cosima leans back from the hug to give Kira a big kiss on the cheek to match her greeting. The child giggles.

"Thank you."

The birthday girl then notices Pancho. She rubs the puppy's torso as she hugs him. Pancho just tries to lick her face.

"Oh, he's gotten bigger!"

Cosima smiles at what is probably the purest thing in the world - the scene of her beloved niece playing and cuddling her beloved pup. A warmth spreads in her chest.

"Yes, he has gotten bigger. And so did you."

Cosima only noticed that Mrs. S. and Felix, who was in an apron, are both standing, leaning against each side of the door frame that leads to the kitchen, watching the scene. She gives her niece a pat on the head and gets up to give them both a hug, turning to the matriarch first.

"Hello, chicken. Thanks for coming in early to help."

"No, problem at all, Mrs. S."

Felix smirks and greets her with a one-armed hug, his other hand carrying an apron which Cosima suspected to be meant for her.

"Well, I finally get to see my favorite lesbian. Here's an apron. Make yourself useful."

And the pet owner suspected right. Cosima laughs and takes the apron.

"I missed you, too, Felix."

Just then, Sarah comes bounding down the stairs beside the door frame.

"Ah, the geek monkey is here."

Kira giggles at her mother calling Cosima a monkey. The little girl was carrying a surprisingly calm Pancho in her arms.

"You just missed me."

Cosima shoots back at her sister. Sarah, who's wearing her signature sleeveless band shirt and messy hair, raises an eyebrow at Cosima as she comes to stand beside her younger sister.

"Miss you? I talk to you almost every day. If anything, I'm sick of you."

Cosima rolls her eyes and puts an arm around Sarah's shoulders, giving her a side hug.

"Ha-ha, Sarah. Pretending to not have feelings to keep up your cool, badass image is so last season."

Mrs. S. chuckles.

"Aye. She got you there, love."

Sarah rolls her eyes but fails to hide her smile.

"Whatever."

The four adults proceed into the kitchen to start the preparations for Kira's backyard party. It was still early in the morning and the guests won't be arriving until lunch time.

Cosima ties her apron snugly around her waist. She is on cake baking duty today. Felix is starting the fire for the grill. Sarah and Mrs. S are setting up the balloons and other decorations up. Kira takes Pancho to the backyard where she introduces him to Babu and the two pups run around together after the initial wariness.

"Delphine, welcome! So glad you could come."

Cosima almost drops the cake she was pulling out of the fridge after she hears Mrs. S. greet the French doctor who just arrived. Kira and her friends were already laughing and enjoying burgers and drinks outside while the clown Mrs. S. hired gave a magic show.

"Hello, Siobhan. I'm not too late, am I?"

The French doctor smiles. Mrs. S shakes her head. The matriarch takes Delphine's coat and the two women walk further into the house, passing the living room and going into the dining area and kitchen.

"Oh, no, not at all. In fact, you're just in time for the cake."

The Irish woman gestures to the cake on the counter top, purple and pink frosting decorated with flowers made of icing. Delphine's eyes land on the woman behind it, holding nine birthday candles in blues, yellows, and pinks.

"Oh, hello, Cosima."

Delphine smiles at her and Cosima feels a fluttering in her stomach. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"Hi, Delphine."

Cosima unties her apron and takes it off. She moves around the counter and takes the cake and candles with her.

"Kira would be so glad to see you-"

"I hear Kira's not the only one happy to see you, doc."

Sarah cuts in and surprises the three women. She had walked through the door from the backyard without any one of them noticing.

The alarms in Cosima's head go off, her eyes go wide as she processes her sister's sudden presence and her statement. A look crosses Cosima's features, one that Sarah recognizes.

Cosima thinks, oh no.

Sarah smirks.

Oh, yes.

[maslany-news]

It was all of two-and-a-half minutes into the premiere of BBC America's Orphan Black when viewers realized that the show—which began with a woman witnessing the suicide of a stranger who happened to look exactly like her—was something special.

But not even star Tatiana Maslany could have guessed that the series would introduce a breathtakingly sprawling mystery about human clone sisters navigating morality, philosophy, genetics, feminism, family, and a complicated conspiracy that doesn't necessarily tie up into a neat bow at the end (sorry, Clone Club).

"I knew up to episode two," Maslany explains of what she expected when shooting started. "I didn't even know Helena existed until I was on set filming episode two of season one, and saw the next script and she shows up in episode three. I didn't know anything about where the plot was going. I was just like, 'How do we do this? How is this going to be possible?' What a cool challenge to face."

In the series finale, the clones (each personality crafted so masterfully by Maslany that it's easy to forget she plays them all) finally take down the man known as P.T. Westmoreland (Stephen McHattie)—who turns out not to be a 170-year-old genius responsible for discovering the key to genetic supremacy, but rather a 70-something egomaniac obsessed with immortality—and his deputy, Virginia Coady (Kyra Harper), presumably toppling their Neolution movement in the process.

"PLAYING SO MANY STRONG AND SMART WOMEN WHO TAKE DOWN A MEDIOCRE MAN—IT WAS THE BEST."

Though the episode doesn't answer every question of the five-season-long, ultra-complex story, the final moments show each clone living her newly free life: Alison and Donnie (Kristian Bruun) co-habitating in their suburban domestic bliss and helping new mom Helena raise her twins; Cosima and Delphine (Evelyne Brochu) off hunting for the rest of their 274 clone "sestras" in an effort to cure their clone-borne disease; and Sarah, foster brother Felix (Jordan Gavaris), and daughter Kira (Skyler Wexler) moving on as a family after the death of their foster mother, Mrs. S (Maria Doyle Kennedy).

A few days before the finale, MarieClaire.com sat down with Maslany to get those answers. In a Los Angeles coffee shop just a short walk from the home where she and her boyfriend, Welsh actor Tom Cullen, recently settled down, the 31-year-old Canadian beauty opened up about the show that changed her life, how science fiction is a lot more like our current reality, and what's next on her horizon.

On closure for the clones:

"The finale was sort of like a two-parter—it had high-action intensity in the first half that felt connected to the world that we've been living in, which is so extreme and horrifying. But what I was really excited about, and what I think we were all interested in, was that quiet after—what happens when you actually have freedom but people aren't able to move on? Like, Sarah is in this stasis where she's doing all the right things but she's not behind them. She's not there. She hasn't fully accepted the loss of S or really embraced the fact that now she can do whatever she wants.

One of my favorite endings is Rachel's because it's ambiguous. We don't know what she's going to do now. She's completely alone. She's been completely incapacitated in terms of everything that's given her power and value in the past, and now she's this blank slate going off into the world with no one.

She's still left out of the world of the other clones; it's still not her world to be in. I think she is who she is and I don't know that she would ever surrender completely. I don't think it's a surrender in terms of, like, the bad guy surrenders or whatever, but it's a surrender of power—which she does through giving Felix that complete list of clones. But she still can't go into that room where she's not invited. Her journey has really always been so interesting to me.

"[I'M] REALLY TAKING TIME TO GRIEVE THE SHOW AND LET IT GO AND NOT RUSH INTO THE NEXT THING."

Cosima and Delphine got a happy ending. They've gone through the wringer in terms of everything—distrust from day one and always being on two sides of the system. It was important to us to show that as a gay couple they could have a normal and have a happy life, and that it was about using their skills to stop this from ever happening to anybody else—that as much as it is a nice time, they still have to go out there and make sure that they're finding these women before it's too late.

We were going to have a montage at the end after the clones learn that there are 274 of them in the world that was like, this one working at her desk, this person over here...but then we were like, 'We don't have any time to shoot this. That's like 70 costume changes, this is not going to happen.'"

On P.T. Westmoreland:

"Given the political climate right now, it's really interesting to have the person at the top be this desperately insecure, powerful, yet completely inept being—this guy, this patriarch who is completely self-motivated and doesn't have any interest in whose lives he's destroying. It's all about him and all about sustaining life, this legacy of his life that he wants to create. It's such an empty thing. One of my favorite moments of the finale is when he's telling Sarah who she is and how he'll always be in her and she just bashes his head in and that's it. And it's just like, 'Shut up. Just stop fucking talking. I don't want to hear that anymore.'

Of all the evil characters on the show, his was the most satisfying death, just because it ended up being such an unceremonious one. It was sort of pathetic. I mean, there's a fight, obviously, but he's just an old man who needs to go. And I think Sarah's just fed up, done with it. That's the first kill she's ever done, as well. I mean, Helena was kind of a soft first kill because she came back."

On Helena's hair:

"I guess it just stuck. The roots just grew out a little bit over 20 years! I think that she's been marked somehow, and I think because she also discovers that she's a copy, she wants to be different from these people she's killing. She's marking herself and she has defined herself by her trauma, almost. She has ingested it as part of her.

I think she literally gets a bucket of bleach and sticks her head in it. It's like her cutting of her back, it's a self-flagellation thing."

On Kira's sixth sense about the clones:

"I think what Graeme [Manson, co-creator and executive producer] was playing with a little bit is that it's just this empath thing that she has through a biological, spiritual connection. I think you can get that with siblings, too. I have it with my brothers, where my brother and I will be on the phone and I know what he's going to tell me even though he hasn't told me yet. It's just a deep bond that is not scientific and not explainable in concrete terms."

On bringing back old characters:

"The problem with this season was that it was so jam-packed with so many things to get through and so many characters that we had established that we wanted to flesh out further, as opposed to bringing in a whole bunch of new people. That's why there wasn't really a new clone except in the very last second. You see Tony's photo in the finale, but we didn't want to bring Tony in unless he had something vital to do and it wasn't just, 'Remember that guy?' So I think it was about streamlining it to the five main clones that we got to know over the seasons."

On her favorite clone:

"I enjoyed playing Rachel the most. She is completely opposite of anybody I'd ever be cast as otherwise. She terrified me constantly.

There's something about Helena or Alison or Sarah or Cosima that I can physically feel, that I understand, but Rachel was so different, so contained, so entitled and powerful and elegant, moneyed and all of that, which is everything I sort of judge and don't feel connected to. So it was really fun to always find the empathy with her and find what the connection was there.

Given what was going on politically while we were shooting it, it was really fun to play a clone who thought she could be outside of the system, who didn't see herself as the same as all these other women, who sought to control it even though it was always going to control her. It was really fun to play these people who think they're better than or think they're outside of the humanity of other people."

On shooting the last episode:

"Filming the backyard scene with all the clones was insane. We shot that over two days and it took a lot of rehearsal beforehand just to get the simple thing of handing off a glass of wine or a bottle of beer or whatever. It was so fun because it didn't have any real pyrotechnics in it; it was just them relating to each other and all their insecurities and the things that they can't totally accept in themselves, these parts of themselves that kind of unite them. It was awesome because obviously Kathryn Alexandre was there, who's my clone double, who has worked with us since before season one, who has always been there. I always love working with her. And Bailey Corneal, who was my stand-in from the second season on, she's stepped in a few times and played Helena or Alison. So it's always fun to have that couple of girls together.

"[MY BOYFRIEND] WAS IN ORPHAN BLACK—HE WAS KRYSTAL'S EX-BOYFRIEND, THE GUY I KICKED IN THE BALLS."

They brought in a new clone in the finale, a Colombian, Camila Torres. It was so intense because they were writing the last episode as we were shooting the ninth, so it was so fast. And they were like, 'Oh, P.S., we think she's Colombian, and she speaks only in Colombian dialect.' I was like, 'Uh huh.' They were like, 'That's on Thursday.' It was Tuesday. I was like, 'Cool.' They're like, 'Also, learn this piece of music for Alison to play in that last moment.' I was like, 'Great.'

I took Spanish in high school, but I don't play piano. Now I do! And Kristian did a real strip tease. It was a really sexy, emotional strip tease where I'm trying to play the piano. It was his last Alison and Donnie scene, so we were both crying through that whole scene. He gave me those sweat bands that Donnie wore. I still have them.

The last thing we filmed was Coady dying with Helena stabbing her through the throat. I think the very last shot was actually an insert shot of me grabbing the weapon, so it's just my hand. But the cool thing about shooting that scene last was that Kevin [Hanchard, who plays Art] was there. Kevin was there on day one. He shot the very first scene on the series, so it was nice to come full circle."

On the show's title:

"We finally learn the explanation for the title in the finale—it's the name of Helena's journal. It was just kind of weirdly arbitrary in her head. It felt super weird to say the line that reveals it, because I was just like, 'How do I take the curse off of saying this out loud?' I still don't know why she named it that! I have no idea. Somewhere in her brain it makes sense."

On the impact of Orphan Black:

"THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ARE DATING NOW WHO MET THEIR PARTNER THROUGH CLONE CLUB. THAT IS JUST SUCH A COOL LEGACY."

"There's something really cool that came out of this show, which is this Clone Club community that impacted the way we've told these stories and our awareness of how fiction can effect change. It's a community that embraces its differences and embraces people for who they are and is really supportive. There's no infighting in that fan club and no discrimination. It's just beautiful. There are people from Australia and Detroit who have met up, talked about the show and bonded over it, and they've forged relationships. There are people who are dating now who met their partner through Clone Club. That is just such a cool legacy that's been left by the show, but mostly by the people who have watched the show."

On feminism:

"Playing so many strong and smart women who take down a mediocre man—it was the best. It was getting to put all the rage and fear and disappointment and need for action into our work. We were telling that story from day one about autonomy, and about community as opposed to individual, and about our differences actually uniting us and making us stronger. So to get to actually talk about this mediocre man at the top, take off his head, it was really cathartic. I remember the Women's March was happening when we had press so I couldn't go, which was totally devastating. But we were reading this script that was saying the things we all wanted to say and we were having these discussions on set constantly. And it was all feeding back into the work. I'm so grateful I was on a show where I got to do that, because I don't know how I'd get through it otherwise."

On what's next:

"Stronger [a film about the Boston Marathon bombing] will be out in September. It's an amazing story of survival and love. I don't know how people go through something like that and come out the other side of it, but they did. It's with Jake Gyllenhaal, who's unbelievable, and David Gordon Green directed it. It was really wild to do.

I'm also doing a movie that my boyfriend is directing. He just got funding for this very small-budget indie movie and we're in the throes of figuring that out right now. He's never directed me before, but we've acted together. We've worked together on a movie called The Other Half, which came out at SXSW two years ago. And he was in Orphan Black—he was Krystal's ex-boyfriend, the guy I kicked in the balls.

But I haven't done too much in the last few months other than creating stuff for myself and with a few friends. Really taking time to grieve the show and let it go and not rush into the next thing. I visited my little brother and my middle brother we just went on hikes and had coffee. Then I visited my boyfriend in the U.K. and we went away for a bit. And also I just slept. I rediscovered sleep."

[aworldinsideaperson]

Neglectful-Stiles Stilinski

Teen Wolf Imagine:#118

Word Count: 1,606

Warnings: Panic attack, Neglectful Stiles, Reader leaves Stiles

Summary: Y/N leaves her neglectful husband of 5 years  in hopes that he will take notice of her.

A/n: So this is the complete and finished version of ‘Notice Me Now’ which I posted part of a few days ago. I changed the name but it’s the same story. It’s also  Based on This Song so you can listen to that if you like. I hope you all enjoy it because I honestly enjoyed writing it :)

Masterlist

Coming Soon

Last Imagine

She took a deep breath and sat down at their kitchen table with a pen and paper sitting before her. It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday and Stiles was out with Scott, or someone else, like he had been every Saturday for as many Saturdays as she could remember if not more. She thought back to when they were first married, only a year or two into their five year marriage, Saturdays still meant being together all day long, curled up in bed or on the sofa and take out boxes laid out in front of them. But it hadn’t been like that in a long time. She couldn’t remember the last date night they had, or the last time they had eaten a meal together. Actually that’s a lie, she does remember the last meal they had together. Two weeks ago, Friday night, the pack had dinner together. That was the last meal they had together. The last meal they had alone had been long forgotten.

She shook the thoughts from her head as tears formed in her eyes, then with another deep breath she picked up the pen and began to write down everything that needed to be said the her loving husband.

The words poured from heart as the tears poured from her eyes. She never wanted for it to come to this but it did and at this very moment there seemed to be no fix to it other than her leaving. So she signed off the letter then wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up from the table. She walked down the hall and plucked painting from it’s place on the wall and replaced it with her letter and her key to the house, then she took her suitcase by the handle and walked out the front door.

It was late when Stiles rushed through the door of his home, an excited smile on his face after solving yet another supernatural case with the help of his life long friends. He closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes then dropped his keys to the table beside the door. His smile dropped as he looked up into his home to see that it was completely dark. He couldn’t remember the last time he had come home to a pitch black house.

“Y/N?” He called out making his way through the house turning lights on and looking for his wife. He called out again and again and just as panic began to set in that something terrible had happened to her he turned to see the dusty outline of a painting that was once hanging on the wall and in it’s place were a set of keys and a letter. As he picked up the note, his heart dropped at the first line.

Stiles moved to plop himself down in a chair at their kitchen table, unknown to him being the same chair his wife had been in as she wrote the note just hours before. He took a deep breath just as she had done before writing it and began to read the letter aloud to himself.

“Dear Mieczysław,

I’m beginning to realize that I feel just like that painting hanging in our hallway. It’s beautiful, a piece done by a friend of mine in college that you used to marvel at whenever you came around to my apartment. When we first moved into this house together you moved that painting a million times every few days trying to find it the perfect home. Now it just sits collecting dust in the hallway where few people see it. I feel like a painting hanging on the wall even when we’re in the same room. It feels like, every single day you just walk right past me and don’t even notice that I’m there. I’ve started to become less and less capable of brushing it all off, the time we don’t spend together and the time we do that feels empty, everything is sticking now and at this point I can’t think of a single reason why I should keep hanging around with someone who won’t even notice if I’m gone.

I hope that you miss me,

Y/N Stilinski Y/L/N”

Stiles’ heart plummeted at the sight of his last name crossed off after her first. He remembered how happy she had been to be writing ��Y/N Stilinski’ on  everything. She had been practicing her new signature for months before their wedding, trying to decide how much or how little to swirl her ‘S’ and she had been so happy with it in the end. Now it still looked beautiful, more graceful than his handwriting had ever been, but the slash made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t imagine life without her.

His breathing came faster and his chest felt tight as he ran through everything that could happen in his head. What he could do without her, if he could survive in a world that didn’t have her and him together. The panic began to bubble and rise in his stomach and he didn’t know what to do. He began to ground himself, he tried five things he could see but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the letter. He tried four things he could feel but all he could focus on was the sweating of his palms. Three things he could hear. Silence, silence and, and a phone ringing. His phone ringing.

He quickly fumbled with the device as he pulled it from his pocket. It fell to the table and when he picked it up it turned out to be nothing more than a text message from Scott, congratulating them on a job well done and suggesting Stiles and Y/N go out with he and Kira the next night for drinks. Reading her name again made his heart skip and then he realized the only thing he could do was call her. Call his wife and beg for forgiveness and even if she didn’t at least he would know she was okay.

He dialed the familiar number then held the phone to his ear. It rang three times before she answered in a sleepy voice. “Hello?”

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of her voice. “Baby, where are you?” He asked, keeping his tone calm.

“Stiles?” She asked, having not looked at the phone before answering. “Didn’t you get my letter? I left, I’m a few towns over.” She explained. Stiles could hear the sound of a creaking bed indicating she had moved to sit up and had probably turned on the light and was now rubbing her eyes the way she did every morning.

Stiles smiled at the thought of knowing exactly how she behaved when woken up, then frowned at the idea of never seeing that again. “I did get your letter, that’s why I’m calling I read it and I realize I’ve been a complete and total fool leaving you alone all the time. I love you and I can’t live without you.” His voice was small, he didn’t like being in the wrong but he would beg and plead on his hands and knees for this woman if he needed to.

Y/N scoffed of the other line. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job of it while I sat home all alone.”

“I know and I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize what I was doing to you, but now I do and I swear I’ll do better. I love you and I don’t want to lose you over my being an oblivious idiot who can’t see the amazing things and people he has right in his grasp. Will you please come home? I don’t want to live without you.” Tears began to well up in his eyes and again his chest felt tight. His breathing once again became uneven as he heard nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Pure and utter silence for almost an entire minute.

“I’ll come back. I still love you Stiles, I’ll head out first thing in the morning.” She explain and he could hear the smile in her voice and it sent his heart into a flutter.

“Where are you staying?” He asked, a little more than excited.

Y/N humed for a moment and again Stiles heard movements on the other line as she looked around for something with the name of where she was currently sleeping. “Some place called the Glen Capri?” She replied in a questioning tone.

Stiles nearly dropped the phone as he remembered the name of the motel he and his friends had had such a gruesome memory of. “I’m on my way to you right now, go sit in the car.” He instructed, rushing around the house to grab a few of his things.

“Oh God, this isn’t another werewolf thing is it?” She asked in shock, she knew about the supernatural but was never much of a fan, afraid of all the things that could happen to her husband all because of some chance occurrence when his best friend was sixteen. The whole thing put her off.

“Actually it’s a human sacrifice thing. I’ll tell you all about it on the way home just stay in the car.” With that Stiles hung up the phone, a smile painted on his face once again as he sprinted out of the house and hopped into Roscoe to bring home the love of his life who, in that moment, he swore he would never neglect again.

@coldanddead