#Apparently she has always been cold and distant towards her kids

[myriadismx]

Some women shouldn't have children...

[prof-peach]

if i may ask — with prof peach’s family, is there a post kinda explaining the history w them/ who they are/ what they do? i’ve seen a couple things mentioned here and there but i’ve had trouble seeing much beyond vague mentions and was curious!!

I’ve been cagey about it all because it’ll come up in the upcoming comic, and I was hiding some stuff for storyline reasons.

Here’s what I can say so far:

Peach’s mother is the current leader of the family, a matriarch with manipulation skills like you would not believe. She gets you to do what she wants you to do, no exceptions. She’s able to wrap people around her little finger, very charming, but very stern.

Her dad was paid off to join the family, his genes the only reason he was married in. He was cold and distant towards his only daughter. He was once fun loving and lively, but the family broke that in him. He’s a shell of a man now.

Peach has two aunts, both of which handle operations day to day in the family business. One aunt is very outgoing, strong and loud, the other is more reserved, looked at as a weak link in the chain by the others. They both had kids, both boys.

The cousins were all raised in the same house, with the same set of expectations, peach included. The only difference is the other two were boys, and so they were told very early on that they wouldn’t be able to take over the family business, no matter what they did. It’s a historic tradition not to let men lead the family, as once before they led them to near ruin. The trio of kids got on well at the start, friends, played together, grew together, hung out all the time. And then the real work started, peach got pulled away from them more and more, the boys became jealous, angry, afraid. Their relationship broke down, one cousin being brash and aggressive towards her, he wanted to lead the family, and didn’t understand why she didn’t want it too. The other cousin was the weaker and smallest of the three, and the adults always picked on him, he became bitter and twisted, angry that peach or the others wouldn’t stand up for him, wouldn’t help him avoid the scrutiny of the adults. They have not seen each other in near enough 14 years.

There’s grandma, the retired leader, acting advisor, a very harsh woman, critical, heavy handed for someone so old and frail looking. She works with the accounts, makes sure nothings out of place. Her connections are widespread and questionable, methods-very old school.

Grandpa, watches everything, always observing. If you think you got away with something, odds are he’s seeing and is telling someone else, so you get in trouble. Very quiet guy, very unnerving.

And one remaining uncle, a man who apparently left the family, and wasn’t killed for it. No one’s seen him in years, and information is very sparse on him and what he was like.

The family business is fronted by a farm, people in the community like the family, they see them as honest good folks, who invest in local communities, appear at all the parties and offer great generosity, helping those around them. For a price. They have hands in all the big-wig pockets, and know how to twist political arms to get the maximum out of their deals. Peach’s people have moles in police, government, and many other important businesses, rangers included. Their work puts them square in the middle of supplying monstrous Pokemon to war lords and “private security”, the farm front means no one notices when several milktank go missing to feed the nightmarish Pokemon they breed and train in private. Their methods are harsh and cruel, and whatever doesn’t meet their exacting standards, feeds something bigger and meaner. They are the manifestation of ‘wolf in sheeps clothing’, very devious, very evasive, very manipulative.

After they strong armed peach into the ranger course, hoping she would finish it and come home with useful skills, peach fled the family after a year, after a run-in with actual real poachers, seeing her future in their actions.

She believes they cannot find her. She should know better.

((Right now I’m on a villain AU tangent on the side blog, if you want to delve a little deeper into that hypothetical, search ‘fruit-salad-ship’ just a heads up though, that blog is 18+ and had a lot of stuff that isn’t so Pokemon-y too, so it might not be all to your taste))

[teddy-bear-surprise]

Could u do one where peter and the reader are really close and flirted a lot but he starts to get distant and started to replace her with mj so she just accepts it but an old friend of hers (thats really hot and has tattos:) ) comforts her and hes like madly in love with and she starts to get over peter and bonus points if u include a ride on his motorcycle and then go eat tacos and having a sleepover😁 💀 i think i made this too long

This story is also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

Title: Mind the Gap

Word Count: ~5.5k

Rating: None

Context Needed: Y/N

Disclaimer: Format got slightly messed up when I transferred this into Tumblr so sorry about any inconsistencies regarding that. 

“Psst. Peter!” You whisper shouted across the room trying to get your friend’s attention. 

He flipped his head around and leaned back in his seat, balancing on the chair’s two back legs. “What’s up, hun? You tired of studying already?”

Walking over towards the desk where he was reading, you continued to whisper. “I’m not tired of studying, I just don’t want to study.” You grabbed ahold of his hand, trying to pull him out of the seat, “C��mon, let’s go do something fun.”

“We just got here though, and we have that O-Chem presentation due next week. Come sit at my table and we can work on it together.” He grabbed your hand and gave it a light squeeze, “Just for an hour, and then we can go do something else.”

“Alright, I guess another hour won’t hurt.”

---

Leaving the library, you were met with the bright winter sun, frostbitten air, and snowy trees. Washington Square Park was uncharacteristically quiet and empty as people gathered in their homes to avoid the cold. You were bundled up in a thick black coat, wearing dark-colored jeans, a cream turtleneck, and your favorite boots. Your mind was clouded and slow from rushing to finish your project within the hour. In addition to having to do O-Chem at eight in the morning, you were running on only three hours of sleep thanks to some idiot that decided to trigger the fire alarm in your building last night. 

The cold, dry wind seemed to attack you from all angles and had your teeth chattering after only a minute. Even hiding behind the columns of Bobst Library, the wind continued steadily. Peter stood beside you, significantly less affected by the weather despite only wearing sweatpants, a hoodie, and Converse. You always suspected that Peter’s immunity to the cold was due to the radioactive spider bite, but he insisted that it was just because he grew up in New York. 

Noticing your chattering teeth and trembling body, Peter pulled you in for a hug. He rested his head upon yours, sheltering it from the cold. A sigh of relief escaped your mouth as your cheeks absorbed the warmth radiating from his chest. Basking in Peter’s enveloping warmth, you mentally decided: This kid is definitely radioactive. Frankly, there was no other way to explain how he was so warm while only wearing two layers in the New York Winter. 

He brushed your hair lightly as you snuggled into his chest, still standing in front of the library’s entrance, “Is your roommate around? My roommate and I got into an argument last night so I don’t want to go back to my dorm, but I don’t want to intrude if she’s there.”

“No, she’s been staying with her girlfriend all week. Apparently, they got back together after Flash’s party…” your voice trailed off as your exhaustion took over, even your body went slightly limp.

“Do you want me to carry you, princess? I can tell that you’re pretty tired.”

“Yes please.” You unraveled your arms from his chest and hooked them around his neck.

Peter lifted you up gently and you wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him tightly. You closed your eyes and rested your head against his shoulder as he began walking. If any other person had offered to carry you in the snow (especially in Converse), you would have said no. But with Peter’s supernatural strength, agility, and reflexes, you felt perfectly safe in his embrace. 

---

You woke up still feeling slightly groggy, lounging in the beanbag chair next to your desk. Looking around, you saw Peter sprawled on his back, awkwardly occupying the small space between your bed and your roommate’s. He wasn’t necessarily asleep, but he wasn’t awake either. You slid down the beanbag, only your shoulders remaining on it, as you tried to kick Peter’s foot. Before you could even reach him, the harsh crinkling of the beanbag got his attention, and he propped himself up on his elbows. 

“Sleep well?”, he spoke in a groggy voice.

“Depends, what time is it?”

He glanced at the Transformers watch that you forced him to wear after he lost a bet, “Almost noon. So you basically slept for two and a half hours, almost three.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna say that I slept well then.” Your stomach rumbled and you looked down, letting out a soft chuckle. “Wanna grab a bite real quick?”

Peter raised a crooked eyebrow at you, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

You walked in silence towards your favorite taco spot near campus, your arm linked with Peter’s. He held you close to him as you texted your roommate, making sure that you didn’t slip, trip, or Blip.

You: Hey, Riva… Do you mind if Peter stays in your bed tonight? I’ll wash the sheets and change them.

Riva: Sorry, but that’s my bed and I’m not letting your pseudo boyfriend sleep in it. He either sleeps in your bed or on the floor. It’s nothing against him, or you, but that’s my safe space and I don’t feel comfortable sharing it.

You: Okay, thanks. I totally get that, I’ll figure something out. Lmk when you’re coming back so I can clean my side.

Riva: I gotta talk to Miriam first but I’ll let you know when I decide.

You: Sounds good… stay safe :)

Riva: You too <3

You pocketed your phone and looked up at Peter, “She said no… at least no to you borrowing her bed.”

“That’s okay, hun. I can find somewhere else to crash.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad–”

Peter unintentionally cut you off, “It’s okay, don’t worry about me. Worst comes to worst, I could always crash at the Stark building.”

---

That was the last time you talked to Peter, three weeks ago.  You two went different ways after getting tacos that day and Peter offered to do the O-Chem presentation alone after you caught a cold. Now, even though you walked into class every day hoping to see him, he was nowhere to be found. It made no sense, that was one of his favorite classes and he just stopped showing up. A part of you longed to text him and ask “Where’ve you been, Parker?” but you knew better. The problem wasn’t that Peter had disappeared, necessarily; the problem was that he seemed to be avoiding you.

The issue was that despite not showing up to O-Chem, you still saw Peter walking around campus, his hands all over the engineering department’s newest transfer– MJ. Occasionally, you would lock eyes with him across the hallway, across Washington Square Park, or across a lecture hall, but he would immediately look away. Frankly, it felt like he hated you. You didn’t know what happened, or what you did, to warrant this kind of reaction from Peter. During that last conversation as you went to get lunch, you were about to offer to let Peter share the bed with you, or at least the beanbag. You couldn’t tell if it was a good thing that you hadn’t offered, or if offering would have prevented this unhappy split.

---

You walked into a local doughnut shop, affectionately called the Doughnut Pub, and immediately came face to face with MJ. Or face to back as she stood in front of you in the queue. You rocked back and forth on your heels, suddenly feeling uneasy and out of place. But, in desperate need of coffee and sugar, you stayed. You looked down at your shoes and fiddled with your keychain, waiting for MJ to order and leave. Unfortunately, that’s not what she did. 

MJ grabbed her order and moved to sit down at one of the stools along the balcony. She pulled out her phone, seemingly texting someone. Soon after, while the workers were preparing your coffee, Peter walked in. You looked at him intently, but he avoided you like always. He turned his head away, walking quickly towards MJ with his eyes to the ground.

You were rightfully annoyed and took your coffee and doughnuts, storming out. There was a small courtyard nearby with benches and you instinctively walked there, not even stopping to think. You sat down, eating alone on one of the snowy benches. A quickly melting layer of ice began to permeate your jeans, leaving your legs soggy and numb, but your stubborn nature prevented you from moving until you had finished your snack. You savored each sweet bite of your doughnut, washing it down with hot black coffee. You almost never ordered plain black coffee, disliking the bitter taste, but you were too busy worrying about MJ and Peter to choose anything else. Only a minute before you intended to leave, someone sat beside you. You glanced over, recognizing the distinct tattoos that covered this stranger’s hands. Those tattooed, slender, and ring-laden hands held you up all throughout your toughest times in high school; you could never forget them.

“Tommy?” You looked up at your old friend, eyes wide with happiness.

“I knew it was you! How’ve you been, darlin’?” Tommy punched your arm playfully.

You felt blood rushing into the apples of your cheeks, hoping the sudden blush would be disguised by your windburned skin. Tommy had a habit of calling you sweet nicknames and his sultry tone always made your heart skip a beat. “I-I’ve been better. I think that much is obvious. People who are doing well don’t normally sit alone on wet, icy benches, do they?”

“That they don’t, love. What’s going on, though? Last I heard, you were livin’ the dream up here in New York.”

“Well, that’s why they call it a dream, Tommy. Dreams have to end eventually. I just wasn’t expecting mine to end with my only friend at NYU ditching me for some transfer.”

“Good thing I’m here then. With your real best friend here, you won’t have to worry about that loser anymore.”

Tommy slid an arm around your shoulders slyly, rubbing your arm affectionately, “Thanks, Tommy. What are you even doing here?” a defensive undertone tinged your words, “Sorry, that sounded rude, but like how did you end up here?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked. I’ve got so much to tell you. First, though, let’s get somewhere warmer and dryer, I don’t want my best friend to catch a cold.” He helped you up and you began guiding him to the first place that came to mind, the library. 

---

You and Tommy sat down in the library at one of the smaller tables in a corner hidden behind some bookshelves. He helped you out of your coat and folded it for you, hanging it on the back of your chair. There was a comfortable silence between you both. You were in no rush, just focusing on warming up.

“I missed you so much,” Tommy said suddenly, breaking the silence. “And when I got an offer to transfer to my office’s Manhattan branch, it just seemed like the right thing to do. I know it’s sudden, and that I probably should’ve told you I was in town, but I wanted to plan something special before telling you… I didn’t know I’d run into you so soon though. That was a pleasant surprise.”

You were absolutely dumbfounded by Tommy’s admission. “Oh my gosh.”

“I hope you don’t mind.” He looked down at his hands.

“‘Mind’? Tommy, are you kidding me? Of course, I don’t mind! You couldn’t have possibly come here at a better time.” You felt your heart twist, despite the truth behind your words, your heart still ached. You would have no need for Tommy’s comfort if Peter hadn’t abandoned you. And as much as you loved Tommy, your love for him was nothing compared to the buried feelings you harbored for Peter. 

Tommy took your cold hands in his and lifted his head, looking at you with a smile on his face. “I’m glad to hear that! What do you say we head out and do something fun tonight? Doesn’t that sound good?”

“That sounds great, but you’re gonna have to do all of the planning. This calculus class I’m in is kicking my ass.”

You and Tommy spent the rest of the night together. After taking you shopping at a few local boutiques, he treated you to a five-star meal. When he first started at his job, two years ago, he never would have been able to afford a meal like that, but his transfer must have come with a hefty raise. The half-a-dozen years of friendship that you shared with Tommy were all brought back in one night. It was like experiencing your relationship in a whole new light. You shared Caprese while talking about your greatest dreams, downed a bottle of wine while reminiscing, and teared up while eating chocolate cake. Though you hated the reality of it, a part of you was beginning to realize that maybe your attraction to Tommy was slightly romantic. 

To finish off the night, you both headed back to his new apartment to watch a movie. With most other guys you would worry that an invitation to their apartment meant that they expected something more, but with Tommy, you felt comforted that a movie just meant a movie. He opened the door for you and allowed you to enter first. As you walked through the barren entryway, it revealed a cluttered living room covered with boxes. In the middle, there was an awkwardly positioned sectional couch facing a flatscreen television on the wall. Around the feet of his couch, crumpled papers, empty coffee cups, and wads of tape occupied the floor. None of this surprised you. Tommy was never great at keeping his spaces clean and on top of that, he had just moved in. 

Tommy rushed up behind you as soon as he had locked the door and began reaching for the scattered trash, “Sorry for the mess, I didn’t know I’d be running into you today. Much less having you over.”

“Don’t worry about it, you just moved in. I wasn’t expecting your apartment to look like the cover photo of an Architectural Digest magazine.”

He chuckled at your joke, “Well still, I really am sorry for the mess.”

Tommy guided you to the couch where he let you take the best spot and handed you a blanket. You kicked off your shoes, shrugged off your coat, and laid back, swinging your feet onto the sofa. He disappeared around the corner and yelled out to you, “I’m just gonna make some popcorn, but feel free to turn on the TV and find something to watch!”

You grabbed the remote control and turned on the television, trying to figure out how to navigate it. Eventually, around the time you began hearing popping coming from the kitchen, you had found Netflix. Frankly, there weren’t many movies that you wanted to watch, not any new ones at least, so you decided to pick one of your old favorites. Not really knowing why you loved this movie so much, you chose The Theory of Everything. From behind the kitchen wall, you could hear that Tommy was just pouring the popcorn into bowls and you decided to start the movie. He came in soon after, not missing anything. Tommy sat beside you and handed you a bowl of hot popcorn. You felt a type of peace that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You watched the screen intently, only breaking your gaze occasionally when you dropped a kernel of popcorn. The two of you were enveloped in a comfortable silence that was only interrupted by sniffles and crunching. It went on like this until the end of the film, the silence growing greater with each minute. Tommy had fallen sound asleep and you did not want to wake him so you found a small pad of sticky notes and a pen and left your new number for him to text you when he woke up. 

You returned to your dorm, walking quietly, but still vigilant. New York was a crazy place and you never knew what might happen, especially in the dark. Only a block away from your building, you heard a peculiar wooshing sound. You stopped, eyes peeled, and looked around. Despite the vivid sound you heard only seconds before, there was no one near you. Confused but relieved, you continued walking. Your shoes crunched on the snow and every step was precarious. 

Suddenly, just as the first sound, you heard it again. This time it was much louder and seemingly closer. You stopped again yet the area surrounding you seemed to be empty. Turning around once more, you jumped. Peter, or Spider-Man, was standing right in front of you. 

You had no idea what to feel. He obviously knew that it was you, but what possible reason could he have for creeping up on you so randomly? 

With an annoyed tone, you asked Peter, “What do you want?”

“I’m sor–”

You cut him off, “You don’t get to be sorry, Peter. You don’t get to apologize because I don’t want to forgive you. I can’t. Not yet at least.”

Peter waved his arms frantically in the air, trying to keep you from walking away. You pushed past him and went anyway.

He ran up behind you, grabbing your arm. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I know I messed up. I really don’t know what came over me. Really. And if you don’t want to talk to me, I totally understand, but please just let me apologize.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation right now. I’m tired and I have way too much to do. So, please just let me go, Peter. Please.”

His hand released its tight grip on your arm and you could sense his frown even from behind the mask. “At least let me walk you home. It’s the least I can do.”

“Fine. But no talking.”

He raised his arms in surrender, “Totally understood. Shutting up now.” He pretended to zip his mouth. 

As agreed, you both walked to your building in silence. Uncomfortable tension built up between you like a fifty-foot concrete wall. Questions nagged and begged to be answered, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Why MJ? Why not talk to me? Why all of the avoidance? Did I do something? Did he and MJ break up? Is that why he wants to come crawling back to me? Because he’s lonely and broken-hearted? I don’t need him. I have Tommy and Riva and I’m sure I could name more people if I weren’t so pissed right now.

You stopped abruptly, only meters from your front door, and turned to face Peter, “Why did you do it? I mean, I’ve gone over this in my head a million times and it never makes sense. I have gone through every possibility, every variable, literally everything. And I just, I can’t figure out why or how this happened.”

You choked on the last word, a tear rolling from your eye. 

“I don’t know,” he looked at the ground. “You didn’t deserve that. I got so caught up with this stupid little crush and I ignored the best person I know, just to find out that MJ doesn’t even believe in the concept of romantic relationships. I’m sorry, I’m genuinely so sorry. I know words will never make up for how stupid I was, but I still hope that we can still be friends.”

“We’ll always have the possibility of friendship, I just don’t know if that’s the right thing for us at the moment. You messed up and you owned up to it, which is really great, but I need to know that it won’t happen again. I need to know that you’re not just coming back to me because MJ friend-zoned you. And until I know that, Peter, I can’t be your friend. So, find some way in that weird, contorted mind of yours to prove that to me. Then, maybe we can be friends again. Who knows?”

You walked further into the doorway, resting your hand gently on the keypad, and looked back at Peter with sadness in your eyes. He met your gaze, parting his lips as if he wanted to speak, but he remained stunned and silent. You turned away from him, inputting your code and pushing the door open with your shoulder. A part of you wanted to linger in the doorway, say one last word to Peter, or even wait for him to say the last word, yet you knew that you had already spared more of your time than he deserved. 

Needing a way to get rid of the overwhelming emotions in your body, you chose to climb the stairs rather than take the elevator. Each step released a soft sigh, a sad thought, and soft pains through your legs. By the time you reached your floor, you were so focused on the soreness in your legs that you had forgotten about your run-in with Peter and only cared about getting to lay on your beanbag chair. You settled into its soft embrace and allowed sleep to take over your mind. 

The next morning, all you could think about was Peter, though it was the last thing that you wanted to be thinking about. To take your mind off of the previous night’s interaction, you decided to walk to the Trader Joe’s in SoHo. You walked with your head down, letting the wind hit the top of your head and cool your thoughts. Every step was careful but fast and within fifteen minutes you were greeted by the large sliding doors. 

You walked around mindlessly, filling your cart with items you would most likely put back before checking out. Before you knew it, your cart was full. There were boxes upon boxes of cake mixes, frozen foods, and snacks. Things you didn’t even like seemed to have ended up in there as well. For example, their horrid excuse of a knafeh had somehow appeared at the very top. Sighing, embarrassed by how well your idea to distract yourself had worked, you began to return items to their respective spots within the store. At the end of it all, you ended up with a measly three items to checkout. A can of Snack Bar Mix, a box of berries, and some peach yogurt. You checked out and walked back home, taking your time since it was still cold out and you knew the yogurt and berries wouldn’t go bad. Once you arrived back, treasuring the warm air of your building’s lobby, you took the stairs up once more.

Arriving at your door, you twisted the doorknob open, expecting an empty room, but in front of you, Tommy was sitting on the floor conversing with Riva. His back was facing you and he turned when he heard the door open. Excitement filled his eyes and he jumped up to greet you. Riva, on the other hand, remained seated and unfazed by your return. Waves of confusion flowed through your mind as you had not expected either of them to be in your dorm. 

“Surprise!” Tommy exclaimed, “I was wondering when you might get back.”

“Well, I’m back now.” You spoke with words coated in suspicion and confusion as you walked towards Tommy. He filled the space between you and embraced you in a tight hug. From behind Tommy’s back, you met eyes with Riva signaling to her What is he doing in here? and Why didn’t you tell me Tommy was here?

Riva just shrugged her shoulders at you and giggled quietly as she watched Tommy’s embrace suffocate you. Slowly but surely, you snaked your way out of Tommy’s arms and held him away at an arm’s length. “So, Tommy, what brings you to our humble abode?”

“I was just in the area and wanted to surprise you so I DM’d Riva on Instagram and asked her if I could wait for you in here. I was also hoping that you might be free to go out to dinner later?”

You shot a deathly stare in Riva’s direction and replied, “That’s so sweet of you! Of course, I’d love to go out to dinner tonight.”

While you weren’t completely opposed to the idea of going out with Tommy, your recent interaction with Peter wouldn’t stop plaguing your mind. So despite the confidence in your voice when you agreed to Tommy’s request, seedlings of doubt began to sprout. 

---

Later that night, Tommy met you in front of your building to walk with you to a nearby tapas restaurant. The air was still cold, the strong winds biting at your cheeks, and you huddled behind Tommy as you walked against the current. Your body was pressing up against his arm but something felt off. You had spent your childhoods together, day in and day out, yet you had never felt so uncomfortable near him. It was tempting to ignore the feeling, attributing it solely to the years you had spent apart. But as the night droned on and you found yourself curled up next to him on his couch watching The Dead Poet’s Society, you realized that there were some feelings that just could not be ignored. Feelings like the love you had for Peter and the love he had for you. Tommy would always be a part of your life, just not in the way that you needed Peter to be. 

You slowly slipped your phone into your pocket and slid yourself out from under Tommy’s arm. You excused yourself and rushed off to the bathroom, locking the door and sitting with your back against it. Your fingers tangled in your hair, pulling against your scalp as you buried your face against your knees. All you wanted to do right now was text Peter, telling him you forgave him, but you knew that letting him off that easily would never end well. So instead, you sat and stared at your bright phone screen, scrolling through all of your past conversations with Peter. Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes grew heavy with sadness. Every text was so obviously flirty now that you looked back on them, but neither of you seemed to have noticed each other’s advances at the time. Your depressing scrolling was soon interrupted by three little bubbles appearing at the bottom left of your screen. Peter was typing. You waited patiently, each minute passing like torture, and every few seconds the bubble would disappear. Each time it did so, you felt a drop in your stomach, and every time it popped back up, your breath stopped. 

It had been almost five minutes since Peter had started typing when Tommy came up to the bathroom door, knocking rapidly. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while and I think the movie’s almost over.”

You took a deep breath to neutralize the shaking in your voice, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just have a bit of an upset stomach from that ice cream. Go ahead and finish the movie without me, I already know what happens anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay, well let me know if you need anything.”

“I will…”

Tommy’s footsteps departed and your phone buzzed in your hand. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you were gripping the device until you looked down and noticed your fingers had turned a shade paler. Cautiously, you clicked on the message and began to read it.

Peter: Okay, so I’ve been thinking about how to apologize and I realized that what I thought was an apology was just me making excuses. I’ve said sorry, I’ve explained myself to you, but I haven’t shown you how I can change. And that’s where I went wrong. So, if you’re willing to give me another shot at your apology, meet me outside of the bookstore on Monday at 11 am. I promise you won’t regret it.

In all honesty, you had expected a much longer message, but the mystery enticed you so you played along.

You: One shot, Parker. Don’t you dare be late.

Peter: Of course :)

You put your phone back in your pocket, sighing loudly, and splashed cold water on your face. Wiping away the water from your skin, your mind began to clear. You opened the bathroom door and tip-toed back over to the couch where Tommy was watching the final five minutes of the movie. His eyes were watery, as anyone’s would be, and he glanced up as you approached him. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I just realized I gotta get home soon. I’m kind of tired and I still have lecture notes to go over.”

“Why don’t you just stay here? I just did laundry so the sheets are clean and there’s fresh towels too.”

As tempting as the offer was, you could sense that Tommy was attempting to imply something more. Something that you had no intention of ever experiencing with him. If Tommy didn’t want anything from you, he would have offered to take the couch. If he didn’t want anything from you, he wouldn’t have done laundry before inviting you over. If he didn’t want anything from you, he wouldn’t have held you the way he did. You knew that you were overthinking, but you trusted your intuition. 

Tommy could tell, from the excessive amount of time that it was taking you to reply, that you had your doubts, “You know what, it’s okay. I’ll walk you home. C’mon.”

He turned off the TV and handed you your jacket which you put on quickly as you walked to the door. Tommy rested his hand on your back as you exited the apartment and continued to do so all the way down. You both walked silently, unnerving tension growing between you. Each step felt like a chore and only worsened the emotional turmoil in your mind.

Once Tommy dropped you off, he lingered. You peeked through the half-open blinds in your room and saw him still standing down below. He was sporting a bizarre expression on his face, one of disdain and exhaustion. It was an expression you had seen time and time again. Every time you went to a stupid frat party or club and turned down one of the idiots there, that was the face they made. But seeing this only increased your faith in your prior decision to leave Tommy’s house. 

You turned away from the window and shut the blinds completely, basking you and your sleeping roommate in darkness. Much too tired to take a shower now, you decided to sleep on top of your blankets and shower the next morning instead. Your eyes grew heavy with each second and soon you had drifted off to sleep. 

---

Nearly a week had passed since you agreed to meet Peter outside of the bookstore and you were worried that he might have forgotten. Still, you stuck to your alarm clock and got ready to go. You changed into your favorite jeans, a tank top, and slipped a black hoodie and jean jacket over it all. Putting on your Converse, you grabbed your phone and backpack, and left. The door locked behind you with a soft click that echoed through the hallway. 

The walk to the bookstore was a quick one and you had arrived there withing less than 10 minutes. To your amazement, Peter was just rounding the corner and was on time. He waved at you from the end of the block with a giddy grin and you waved back, pretending to be unfazed. 

Peter was not even ten feet away when he suddenly blurted out, “I really like you. I really do.”

The locals didn’t even bat an eye, but the kids on their NYU tours all stared at him, mouths gaping wide open in shock. You followed suit, not expecting him to start with that bold and direct admission. 

You waited until Peter was closer to reply, “Jeez, Pete. What’s up with the huge announcement? Did you really need to tell that to everyone?”

A part of you was slightly embarrassed. You felt like you had been put on the spot.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I had to tell you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.” He stared at his feet and fiddled with his hands.

“No, no. Don’t get me wrong, I like you too. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that so loudly, and in front of everyone.”

“Yeah, I kinda regretted it as soon as I said it. There’s something about being judged by a hoard of highschoolers that just really gets to me.”

You chuckled, knowing how true that sentiment was for the both of you. “Well, I’m glad we finally got that out of the way. What now?”

“Wanna go for a swing?”

“I think I’d prefer to stay a bit closer to the ground if that’s alright with you, Spidey.”

“Oh right, my bad. Ummmm, how do you feel about motorcycles? May just bought one, I think she’s going through some sort of mid-life crisis and she said I could borrow it as long as I’m careful.”

“Sounds like a plan”

Message to the person that requested this: If you want me to rewrite the ending I totally understand, I know it’s not my best work and I really am sorry about that

Other notes: I’m not gonna lie, this wasn’t my favorite prompt to write and midterms/finals really fucked with my motivation, but I’m just happy I finished it :) I FINALLY FIXED THE PART I MESSED UP SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG

[ijustwant2write]

Always Mine-John Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @tommyshhelby​)

Requested by anonymous: ��Can you please do a imagine where y/n and John were childhood sweethearts (no Martha) and she has known the peaky blinders her whole life and they love her too but then John has to marry esme and even though tommy does feel bad he does it anyway.Y/n works in the betting house so they see eachother every day she acts like it doesn’t bother her but is obviously a bit distant with John who is still inlove with her but she is respectful of the marriage so when Michael comes in he has a crush on y/n and kinda flirts with her and John gets jealous not sure if it’s a John or Micheal imagine your choice’

Characters: John Shelby x Reader, Thomas Shelby x Reader (platonic), Michael Gray x Reader (platonic), Polly Gray x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name  (Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Heartbreak, swearing, mentions/intentions of sex, arguing, violence, slight fluff

                                          *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Heartbreak, many people went through it, many people wanted to avoid it. Although your heart wasn’t physically damaged, it felt like it was. Humans often forget how strong their emotions are. Emotions are part of our survival, they determine how we live, it controls our day, what decisions we make. Unfortunately to live, we had to experience sadness. You could turn it around and say that the bad times made the good times stronger, more enjoyable. But it’s hard to think positively when you’re stuck in a terrible situation. 

“He....He’s getting married?” I whispered out, clutching onto my dressing gown as the cold air blew into the house.

Tommy was stood outside, I had invited him inside, but I was glad I hadn’t now.“Today/ I’m sorry (Y/N), it has to be done.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“John doesn’t know. And you can’t tell him.”

“Why are you telling me this? I could easily run to him now and tell him.”

“If you do that, you’ll put us all in danger.”

I was growing more angry by the second.“Aren’t you always in danger?”

“This is different. It will benefit the whole family, the Peaky Blinders. He has to do this (Y/N).”

I shook my head at him, crossing my arms over my chest. What with it being so early in the morning, no one else was out in the street, it was slightly dark, with a low fog roaming the streets.“You know I love him. You know how we feel about each other. I’m just confused. Why would you tell me this before they get married? I could go tell him, we could run away together like we said we would since we were fifteen.”

“Because I love you (Y/N). You’re basically family. It felt wrong not to. But I can’t lose you at work either. You need to stay.”

I scoffed.“I can’t believe this! You really think I’m going to stay and see the man I love everyday with a wedding ring on his finger? I can write up my resignation now if you want-”

“(Y/N)-”

“Honestly Tommy, this is taking the piss. You get away with a lot of shit, but this is just fantastic-”

“(Y/N)!”

“Wait here, I’ll get a pen and some paper-”

“(Y/N) would you just listen for a second!?” he yelled, silencing me.“You would be as equally angry with me if I told you after. Just be happy that I mentioned it at all.”

That had been the longest day of my life. Knowing that my worst fear had come true, the man I loved was marrying someone else, made time move at an incredibly slow pace. Part of me pondered crashing the wedding, if I knew where it was or who he was marrying, but I knew that Tommy was partly right. He had a huge responsibility to keep control of his power, but the way he manipulated his family infuriated me. 

“John, are you sure you want to marry me?” I said to him as we laid down in a field.

“You’re really asking that after what we just did?” he asked, doing up his trousers.

“Well, Susanne and Jack do the same as us, and he hasn’t asked her.” my (not so) innocent seventeen year old self pointed out.

“Believe me, I would not be suggesting that sort of thing if I didn’t mean it.”

“So you don’t ask every girl you fuck to marry you?” I teased.

He leaned over me.“I haven’t slept with that many.”

I rolled my eyes.“I don’t care how many girls you fucked before me. As long as I’m the one who gets this sort of treatment for the rest of your life, I’m happy.”

He smirked, kissing me.“You’ve been the best out of all of them.”

“Because I do anything you want.”

He leaned down to my ear, whispering,“Because you feel fucking amazing.”

I blushed, wishing I was able to tease him more.“I’m serious John, that’s a serious commitment.”

Although we were being flirty, I knew when he was being truthful.“(Y/N), I don’t want anything else. I want you beside me. My family loves you, you’re already a Shelby in their eyes, and mine. I know they say we’re young, but these feelings I have for you re strong. I wake up thinking about you, I see other women and think, my (Y/N) is so much prettier than you. And yes, thinking about you writhing and moaning beneath me is pleasurable,” I playfully punched his shoulder, which he laughed at,“but imagining you at home with the kids, waiting for me to come back and embracing me as soon as I step foot in our house, that’s all I could ever ask for in life.”

I sobbed as I thought about that memory. We were so happy back then. We were carefree, easily daydreaming about what could have been. Then harsh reality hit us in the face. He was being forced into an arrangement with some wild gypsy girl. We were supposed to be married, I was the one whose last name should have been Shelby. 

I didn’t want to hear about the wedding day. I knew that Pol, Ada or any other woman in that betting shop wouldn’t mention it in front of me.Though how was I ever to stop thinking about how the man I loved was married to someone else when I worked with him? And his new wife? Esme also had no say in this, she had been unruly and apparently the only way to sort that was to marry her off. But why did she have to work here too? She hated it here, she could never sit still. It was in her nature to be outside all the time, to run free and wildly along with the horses. Not cramped up in a betting shop counting money, surrounded by the lowest of men. Having to sit across from her as I worked was torture, seeing the wedding band made my stomach turn.

"(Y/N)?" John called me, standing in the doorway of his office.

I caught Esme glancing towards me, though I didn't care. It wasn't as if anything was about to happen, John hadn't even spoken to me since they married, not properly anyway. I had been civil towards his wife, but only speaking to her when I absolutely had to. Quietly sighing, I closed the book I had been writing in, picking up a smaller notebook and pen before entering his office. Some workers were peeking at us, they knew the drama, and it didn't help that his office was basically made of windows, meaning everyone could see us.

"You can sit down, you know you can." John gestured to the chair across from his desk, though he didn't sit.

I said nothing back.He groaned.

"Come on (Y/N), you know I hated when you gave me the silent treatment."

"Is there something you needed from me Mr Shelby?"

"You know, that only sounded nice coming from you when we were in a different environment." he smirked, thinking I would break. He was absolutely wrong.

"I have a lot of work to be getting on with-"

"I don't love her."

My eyes widened, and I kept my voice low."For fucks sake John, we shouldn't be talking about this here."

"You know I don't!" he stood in front of me, but I quickly backed away, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves."She's some random gypsy Tommy picked up on the side of the road. Esme isn't you."

"And yet you're stuck with her. So let bygones be bygones. Did you actually need me?"

"I always need you, and I will always want you."

"Right, thank you for wasting my time sir."

I promptly left, feeling my throat get tight as I pushed back my tears. If I spoke another word, my voice would crack, giving away how I truly felt. Instead of returning to where I was originally sat, I headed to the kitchen, not wanting to see Esme. It was obvious her gaze was on me as I brushed past, though I took no notice. Once there, I made myself busy filling the kettle with water and beginning to make tea, just to distract myself. As it boiled, I gripped onto the edge of the counter, painfully holding back my sobs. I couldn’t do this for the rest of my life, it was emotionally exhausting, it was torturous.

“You can’t keep up this act forever.” Polly appeared.

I didn’t bother facing her.“I know. I already told Tom I would hand him my resignation letter, he refused.”

“No, we can’t lose you, even if we had enough staff. I want you to know that I had nothing to do with that. You know what Tommy is like with his ‘big ideas’.”

I finally looked at her.“My worst fear came true. He’s with someone else. He’s married, but not to me. It’s been in our heads for so long, it was all too good to be true.”

Before Polly could speak, I saw her glance behind me. Turning around, I saw Esme standing in the doorway, her usual scowl on her face as she grabbed a mug from a cupboard.

“I’m assuming you brewed a full pot?” she asked.

“Yes.” I replied. 

She put her mug beside mine, making sure it thudded against the counter. When she left, I ran my hands down my face, seriously considering walking out. Polly decided to not add anything. We would just go in circles, trying to cheer me up, reassure me, convince me to stay etc.

Managing to get through the rest of the day, I sighed in relief and tiredness as everyone started to pack their things. Putting on my coat, I smiled at one my colleagues who was approaching me.

“John has asked for you.” they warily said.

I rolled my eyes.“Did he say what he wants?”

He shook his head.“Sorry, wants you in there soon as.”

I thanked him as he left, along with everyone else. Esme held back, obviously glaring at me. She disappeared into John’s office for less than a minute before walking out again, leaving without her husband. I watched the door shut, leaving just John and I. My stomach twisted, heart beating incredibly loudly in my ears as I took my first few steps to his office. I stood in the doorway, hating that he was already looking at me, I was incredibly nervous. 

He stood from his chair.“(Y/N)-” 

“Please tell me this is about work.”

“I need to speak to you.”

“John, I can’t do this. We’re finished now-”

I started to walk away, not surprised when he followed, but shocked when he grabbed me, turning me around to face him.

“I know you feel the same as me. I can’t fucking stand it! I don’t want to be married to her. I don’t want to fuck her in our bed. I’ve only ever imagined coming home to see you there, not her!”

“Well that won’t happen now, will it?!” I snapped back, trying to make him let go of my arms.

As I struggled, John was able to keep a grasp on me.“It can! We’ll figure out a way! But I need to kiss you. I need to be able to hold you in my arms, to really feel you. I want to keep planning our future together.”

“Tommy has made his decision, and with this family, anything he says goes! You really think we could change any of this? Even if we did, imagine the trouble you would all be in.”

“I don’t care. I would take ten bullets to the chest if it meant being with you.”

“You can’t be saying things like that.”

His eyes were crazy, staring into my soul, fingers pressing into my skin. I felt him pull me closer, it was ever so slow, and I could have stopped it. But I didn’t. We cautiously leaned in for a kiss, making memories and feelings flood back. His hands relaxed, moving up to cup my face. The passion didn’t last long, because before I knew it, I was being pushed back against a desk, clumsily lying on my back. John wasted no time to touch my breasts, continuing to kiss me as it slid down my body, disappearing up my skirt. Although it was extremely tempting to carry on, the weighing guilt made me stop him.

“John.” I breathed out, giving him the wrong idea as he kept going, sucking on my neck. I pushed against him.“John, stop.”

He pulled away.“What? What’s wrong?” he went straight back down to my neck, trying to unbutton my blouse.

“Stop!” I said a little louder, managing to sit up and push him away.

“(Y/N), I know it’s been a while but-”

“It’s not that, you idiot! You’re married!”

“To a woman I don’t love!” 

I let out a frustrated scream, buttoning up my blouse again as I stood.“I’m not going to be that woman sleeping with married men, I’m not a whore!”

“Why are you denying your feelings? We were supposed to get married.”

“We were kids back then.”

He pointed an accusing finger at me.“I said that to you every year, we were always waiting for the right time!”

“Life doesn’t always work out John!” I yelled.“This is just as agonising to me as it is to you! But if we ruin this, the Lee’s are going to come for you all, and there’s already enough on your plates to deal with them.”

“I don’t give a fuck about them-”

“But I give a fuck about you living!” I snatched up my coat and handbag, pushing past him towards the door. With my hand on the handle, I calmed down before speaking again.“Obviously we weren’t meant to be. Though at least we didn’t take our time together for granted. Don’t try any of that again John, I mean it.”

For the next week, I didn’t utter a word to John, I didn’t even glance in his direction. I considered sending in my resignation. But after thinking about it, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to do it. These people were my family, I grew up  in this business. If I left, I had a slim chance of finding a normal job, because everyone knew who I was associated with. Why would anyone risk taking on someone who was involved with the Peaky Blinders? I was paid more than I should have been for my position, and they trusted me with anything; it would be stupid of me to throw that away and lose everything I worked so hard for. 

Surprisingly, Esme hadn’t piped up towards me in that time. I thought she might say something, even if she wasn’t triggered, due to her fiery personality. However, John had been relentless with his attempts to make me speak to him, even trying to trap me in the vault with him. I couldn’t break, I couldn’t let him get to me again. As much as my heart ached for him, as much as I wanted him to grab my face and kiss me again, I would never break a marriage. The guilt that would live with me fr the rest of my life was too much to bear. 

At the beginning of another day, I had just breezed into the shop when Lizzie approached me.“(Y/N), Tommy wants to see you.”

I sighed.“Did he say why?”

She shook her head.“You know what he’s like. But he’s asking for you now.”

I didn’t bother taking off my coat or setting my bag down, following Lizzie to his office. She knocked before opening the door, letting me walk in before closing it behind me, and I was left with Tommy, who was hunched over his desk as he looked through papers; however, there was also another man, a younger man.

“Come in (Y/N), let me introduce you to someone.” Tommy stood, setting the papers aside.

My steps were slower than they usually would be as I analysed the stranger. He looked younger than me, but not by that many years. His hat was in his hands, and although he wore a suit, it wasn’t like the ones the Shelby boys wore. His hair was slightly curly, not slicked back or short like most men around Small Heath, and he seemed shy, maybe more reclusive.

“I’m Michael.” he offered his hand out which I shook.

“I’m (Y/N).” I politely smiled.

“(Y/N) is basically family and has worked with us from the beginning.” Tommy explained.“This boy here, (Y/N), is Polly’s son.”

My eyes widened at Tommy as I let go of Michael’s hand.“Wait, you mean...the children she was always talking about...?”

“I’ve come back to find out about my real family. And to start working here too.” Michael added.

“So I need you to keep a close eye on him, help him with whatever he needs. (Y/N) knows the ins and outs of this place, she’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

For the rest of the day, Michael shadowed one of the workers that dealt with the winnings, counting money and figuring out how to run the shop floor. I would occasionally pop up when I thought he needed someone kinder and quiet to help, or just to check on him. He was sweet, but that wouldn’t help him in this environment. Luckily, Michael made it hard for John to bother me, he didn’t have the usual opportunities to bombard me with questions about why I didn’t want to fight for what we had. My shift finished quickly, it seemed like I had only been there an hour and we were already leaving.

“Come on Michael, let me take you for a drink. You deserve it after today.” I offered as we walked out of the shop.

He was hesitant before smiling.“Alright then. Where should we go?”

“We’ll go to the Garrison, your cousins are basically royalty there, meaning we are too. And don’t worry about your mum, she would rather you be with me than with the boys.”

Happily greeting Harry as we walked into the pub, he nudged the other bartender to get my usual drink. After asking Michael what he wanted, I called it out to Harry before disappearing into the private room.

“We’re allowed in here?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Like Tommy said, I’m family.” the window opened, a bartender passing us our drinks.“So, how did you end up in a place like this?”

We indulged in a conversation about Michael’s life growing up. It wasn’t a good upbringing, he had been through a lot of hardships as a child, and now being thrown into a completely different life was only adding to the confusion he had growing up, but he wanted to be independent. Get away from the boring country and work in an interesting job. 

Michael glanced down at his drink, seeming hesitant to speak.“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there something between you and John? I thought he was married to Esme.” 

I scoffed.“He is. Seems to keep forgetting that.”

“Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-”

“It’s fine. You’re family, you should know what’s going on. We...wow, I’ve never actually spoken about this. John and I developed feelings for each other as we grew up, we became a couple. We always said we would get married, anyone could see we were deeply in love. However, Tommy arranged a marriage between John and Esme, it was to form a truce between the Shelby’s and the Lee family, Esme’s family.”

“That’s horrible. Tommy still did that even though he knew you two were together?”

“Yep.” I downed the rest of my drink.“Welcome to the family business.”

“I understand the need for a truce but...”

“I know what you’re thinking. Although it was heartbreaking, I know nothing can be done about it. And I am not a home wrecker!”

He was shocked by my snappy tone.“I-I didn’t say you were.”

“I know, force of habit.”

The door opened, the Shelby brothers walking in, and only three of them smiled at us, it was obvious who didn’t. They greeted us as they sat, the window opening instantly with their drinks on the tray. Michael and I were still tense from our talk, though tried not to show it as Arthur began rambling on about something stupid Finn had done that day. I tried my hardest to listen, though it was hard to when I could feel John’s eyes on me, and he was angry. Everyone else could tell as well, but they didn’t want to deal with John’s attitude right now. After Arthur finished his story, I excused myself to the ladies room, needing to relax. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even go to the loo without any disruption.

“Why the fuck are you here with him?” John demanded to know as he followed me in. 

“John! You can’t be in here!” I snapped.

“There’s no other women here yet! Answer me.”

“He’s a new colleague, someone Tommy told me to look after today. Not to mention he’s your cousin. I was being nice to him.”

“You say you still love me yet here you are with another man.” the rage in his eyes was growing more intense by the second.

“Oh for fucks sake John.” I rolled my eyes.“Why on Earth why I be so stupid to move on with another Shelby?”

“The fuck are you saying?”

“I’ve been battling with myself whether to leave this job because of you! It was terrible enough to be in the same room as you and your wife, but trying to avoid you all day is exhausting. You have to stop trying to make us work.”

His breathing was getting faster, and he hastily grabbed my hands.“But why can’t we just hide it? Maybe after a while I’ll be able to divorce her.”

“I can’t sit around and wait for you! I’ll always love you John, but you can’t expect me to not go on living my life whilst I wait for something that may never happen. And you’re telling me that in that time, you won’t have sex with her, you won’t give her the children she wants? Because I’m not fucking you behind her back.”

He groaned, pulling away from me and turning around, suddenly hitting a stall door, causing me to flinch at the movement and sound. Instinctively, I started backing away, scared that he might flip and accidentally hurt me in his rage.

“It’s not fucking fair!” he yelled.

“John, calm down!” I said, trying not to shout back, needing him to be calm.

“Why was I the one that had to get married?! Why wasn’t it Arthur or even Finn? They know we’re in love! I wanted you to be my fucking wife! And now you’re not even fighting for us!”

I scowled at him, screaming just as loud at him now.“How dare you?! John, there is nothing to fight for anymore! Yes, we still love each other, and I would give anything to be with you again! I would kill for you, you know that. But we need to move on from this. I’m staying at work for now, just until I’ve got enough to move somewhere else, and then I’m gone. I’m not staying where I got my heart broken.”

“You can’t leave.”

“I will. This feels like someone is punishing me for something terrible that I’ve done, but for the life of me I can not think what that could be. I’m done with this John. I don’t want to wake up every morning dreading to go to the shop, being distracted from my work because I’m dreading that you’ll corner me and we’ll get caught doing something we shouldn’t be. I feel like I’ve aged since the day you married, just from the stress.”

“(Y/N), please, just give it more time, we can work something out-”

“No! John just shut the fuck up and listen to what I’m saying! Leave me alone, leave what we had in the past. You’re married now, and I don’t want to have an affair, not just because of the Lee’s but because of the moral of it all. I...I just need to go home.”

“You’re not leaving-”

He grabbed my arm forcefully, and in defence I slapped him around the face. He recoiled his hand as he went into shock, giving me a chance to escape. However, he kept calling my name as I rushed off, seeing the boys standing at the bar, obviously having heard everything. I pushed past them, bursting into the private room to grab my things before leaving the pub. The others were also telling me to come back, wondering what was wrong.

“Don’t follow me! Leave me alone!” I screeched before turning away from them. 

I felt light headed as I stormed home. There was so much to take in, too much had been said in such a short amount of time. Though I knew I had spoken my truth, even if it was the hardest thing I had ever admitted. John and I couldn’t be. Perhaps it was never meant to happen, and we needed to grow up, move on from our childhood dreams of us being together. I couldn’t dwell on it, I was right when I said I couldn’t put my life on pause to wait for him, which I knew would never happen. Until I knew what I could do to move on and away from everyone, I hoped that our argument had sent a message to John, and I wouldn’t have to suffer as much as I had been. Not for much longer, I am going to be happy.

[quirklessidiot]

Title: blood son [oneshot; filthy rich sequel]  Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au ft. kageyama tobio as your son] Genre: major angst ahead, thriller, yandere!au-ish

Synopsis: A full circle of madness finally comes to an end.

Warnings: sexual themes, rape, yandere behaviorisms (just some obsessive and disturbing stuff), very dark themes, anxiety, trauma, depression, eating disorder, unwanted pregnancy/children (y/n hates her kid here), suicide,  gaslighting, and Y/N’s decent to madness

Notes: happy 800 due to a lot of uh people asking for a short sequel, here it is...for better understanding, please read filthy rich skskksks anyways onto the story…i cant write smut for shit sIKE also fuck men and women like this, if you see them chok’em and chunk’em in the basin.  yes tobio is ur bby boy here idk kageyama and sakusa have the same energy i just couldnt resist i swear sksks

Filthy rich // series masterlist

A moan escapes your lips when you feel the hot liquid fill your hole, your expression is tantalizing and completely erotic. Something that he can’t seem to stop looking at, your body that was now a canvas of his marks, was a reminder that no one could have you. 

You're oblivious to it all, the things he did. The things he wanted to do to you, the dark thoughts, you were like a small rabbit in the den of a large wolf. Completely trusting, completely dumb and he’s taking advantage of it.

He stuffs and fills you up with his seed so that you’ll never leave him. 

He wants to breed you.

Your belly swelling with his children.

It was definitely a dream come true.

Your eyes snap back to reality as the bus stops in front of the new town, you had moved towns earlier since the town started to become a tourist destination. The idea of staying there would be too risky despite having the alias of Kageyama Miwa. You were still in hiding and you feared to even open the news despite it being eight years since you ran away.

“Okaasan, are we going to go down now?” a small voice asks.

You turn to find his son staring right at you, it had been a cruel reminder for him to look a lot like his father. You knew that he didn’t have any part in this, he was a victim just like you but you couldn’t help but be distant and not-so affectionate.

This was his kid.

His blood.

You couldn’t help but shrivel away.

“...Okaasan will just take her duffel bag on the overhead, just wait right behind me.” You say quietly. Tobio was a good boy, he was quiet and obedient. If the circumstances had been different, you’d adore him but every time you looked at him, all you saw was his wretched father and the unnamed things he did in the name of ‘love’.

To be honest, you didn’t know what else Sakusa did aside from trying to get you pregnant and holding you back from leaving. 

You didn’t even want to try to find out. If he was willing to go through such lengths to have you stay, it was more than enough reason to run away. You held onto your child’s hands as you made your way to your new home, it was smaller than the last one but this was alright.

It was clean and livable.

Tobio stays at the side, out of your way as you begin to fix up the house. The young boy isn’t social for his age towards his peers and you should be worried yet you can’t bring yourself to be, “Okaasan’s going to go to the grocery store, would you like anything?” you ask.

“Milk.”

“Alright, just stay here okay?”

He meekly nods as you awkwardly pat his head and  tie your roughly chopped hair in a tight ponytail, over the course of eight years, time has not been kind to you. You had grown unhealthily thin, probably lost some hair due to stress, and the bags underneath your eyes due to the lack of good sleep was evident.

You tell yourself that he isn’t looking for you now.

That he probably found a new plaything but you couldn’t help but look behind your shoulder every time. You didn’t even expect to get this far away, last you heard whilst you were at the station towards the last town eight years ago, you were being searched up and down by the police all over Tokyo.

You really thought you’d be found out and you feared for the worse but the farther you went, the less news reports you saw.

They probably thought you had died.

Which was good on your part that time because you’d rather be dead in a ditch than be caught up with a man like him again.

“...-Kusa Kiyoomi is expected to marry the daughter of Akiko Corp soon…”

You tense up at the mention of the very familiar name as you pass by the appliance store, shakily you turn to the tv screen to find a video of Sakusa Kiyoomi with a woman who had the same hair color as yours. Everything around you is muted now as his cold gaze fills the tv screen, your heart is thumping quick. 

He isn’t here.

He isn’t here.

“...It’s quite the love story of the century, don’t you think? After the disappearance of Kiyoomi’s beloved eight years ago, he met her a few years back and he seems to be doing well.” The tv anchor smiles on the screen as she talks to her co-host but inside you were shaking, what did happen to your missing person report? Curiosity starts to gnaw your insides as you head to the internet café before going to the grocery store.

You didn’t have the guts to look then but after seeing that report, you pull up on the secluded part of the internet café and search up your case. Your mouth dries up, the search was still on-going much to your surprise. There was even a website dedicated to it, “...Y/N L/N might be suffering from hysteria and psychological problems, please contact us immediately when you see her.”

Your eyes narrowed at the report as you shakily cup your mouth and choke back a laugh, that bastard really had the audacity to diagnose you with that when he was the one sick to the head.

Once again, the bile on your throat starts to pile up.

It still wasn’t safe.

You’d probably live your whole life on the run.

On the run with his son that scarily resembled him, how fucking cruel.

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes glaze over the small town in discontent, apparently his bride-to-be wanted to get married here and who was he to refuse? All he wanted to do was get this over with so her father can shut up.

“Kiyoomi-san.” a small dainty voice calls out, he turns to his side to find (h/c) staring right at him. Akiko Hideyo is the daughter of one of the most powerful businessmen in Tokyo, he met her at a function a few years ago.

The very first time he saw her was from behind, it was a rather scary resemblance that he had to stop himself from approaching her by calling your name yet when he started to talk to her and hear her dainty voice, he realizes that she’s not even like you at all.

She was gentle and dainty like a deer.

Albeit his little bunny was gentle when they got together sometimes, he always recalled how you were filled with spunk. How you weren’t even afraid to put him in his place and how you were all over the place but seem to look beautiful whilst doing so.

He always recalled wanting to control you yet you never seem to succumb to it.

It had been eleven years since you first met, eight years since you had disappeared without a single trace and Sakusa is stuck with some third-rate look alike for relief. Every time they fucked, it was always from behind. Hideyo thinks it’s just his preference but in reality, it was because her back had such strong resemblance to you and he’d imagine every time that it was you.

He misses the roughness, the high, the erotica. 

The only things you could provide.

It was never enough, it was only you, you, and you.

“...Have you decided what flavor you wanted? Komori-san mentioned that you liked vanilla.” his fiancé meekly says.

Hideyo was boring.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s just doing this because he has never seen someone closely resembling you, “Anything would be fine.” He replied in a clipped tone. As the car comes to a halt for a moment because of a large truck backing from a driveway, his attention shifted towards a young boy bouncing a volleyball against the pavement outside his window. There are scratches on his knee cap yet the boy had a blank look on his face, he was sort of reminded of himself when he was younger.

As he was about to look away, he sees a woman approach the young boy and bends down to his level to check the scratches.

The woman’s small figure isn’t even the least bit familiar yet his attention can’t seem to go away. He watches her tuck the strand of stray hair and he finally gets a good look and it feels like the world stops turning at how the woman scarily resembles you. Albeit the figure was smaller and the hair was another color and unevenly chopped short.

It was no mistake.

“Y/N.” He mumbles yet as he’s about to open the door, the car starts to move. Kiyoomi’s fist tightens as he uncharacteristically yells at the driver to stop the car, Hideyo jumps on the seat and before she could say anything else, the business mongrel is out of the car, running to where you stood.

Yet just like a ghost, you were gone and so was the little boy who had oddly resembled him.

These days you had even a harder time sleeping. Maybe it was because there was a little leak on the ceiling, or better yet, maybe it was because the heater wasn’t working, or maybe it was because you were at a new place which made it harder to adjust.

You sat at the side with your expense book on hand, your gaze on his son who was peacefully asleep. Tobio was growing older soon and he needed to settle down at one place for high school and college. A part of yourself ventured deep and dark in your mind, the thought of leaving him at an orphanage seemed better now.

He had a fake last name anyways, the bastard wouldn’t be able to find him. 

You’d be doing this boy a favor since you never saw him as your kid and he’d be away from his very messy world.

Your thoughts are immediately disrupted when you hear a brief knock on the door. This made you tense up, it was late, Why would there be a need for visitors? Your son is quick to be awoken by the second knock and you immediately press your hand on his mouth and while your other finger is on your lips to signal him to keep quiet.

Another knock.

Tobio looks worried, it wasn’t his first time to see an episode from you but this time, something feels different. You're shaking more and you look like you’re about to pass out any moment. “Stay quiet.” you mouth as you crawl towards the door and press your ear on it to confirm who was on the other side, too afraid to even take a peak on the window.

Silence.

The only sound that could be heard was your thumping heart, Tobio had voluntarily placed a hand on his mouth to keep himself quiet.

Another knock.

You shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever god out there for this person to leave.

“...I don’t think anyone lives here.” You hear someone say on the other side, the voice sounded so familiar but you just couldn’t pinpoint who it was, this wasn’t Sakusa for sure,  “Are you sure that the information was right?”

Silence again.

“Hm.” The person hummed, knocking again, “Well, this place seems like a dead end. The landlady said that she’s not familiar with the tenants here so we could be wrong…”

The voice started to decrease and you feel yourself slowly starting to breathe easier. Tobio slowly put down his hand and there you saw it, the fear on his eyes. You breathe in and out, calming yourself, this place isn't safe anymore, “Tobio, take your bags. We’re leaving.” you only say.

You don’t even hesitate to leave despite it being the middle of the night.

Tobio is right in front of you as you go down your small apartment and you think everything is well, you really do yet luck didn’t seem to be on your side that night.

“...Y/N?”

A dreadfully familiar voice calls out, didn’t they leave? Why? why was he here?

“O-Okaasan.” Tobio mumbles, grabbing your hand and hiding behind you.

Your head hurts, you wanted to just be selfish and leave Tobio here with this man, his father, the wretched, vile creature who had betrayed you. You wanted to run.

You didn’t feel safe.

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t make you feel safe.

“Y/N…” He repeats, slowly approaching you, “It’s me, bunny.”

Oh, how you hated that pet name. It sounded like you were his plaything, like you could never escape from his set-up. Before you could say anything else, he invades your personal space once again and envelopes you in a very,very tight hug.

“I’ve missed you so, so much.” He whispers on your ear and your shivering, not from pleasure but from fear, “Shh, it’s alright. I found you. It must’ve been hard to be alone out here.”

Get away.

Get away.

“Get the fuck away from me.” You yell, pushing him off of you as you stagger away from him. Tobio remains behind you, completely shaking.

“Now, Y/N-” he tries to shush you, “We should go home now, you’ve spent so much time away from me but I understand, you were probably just scared to tell me you were pregnant, right?” 

He cups the right side of your face and places a chaste kiss on your temple, tears are threatening to spill as you realize that this was all over. You couldn’t escape now, this lunatic wouldn’t let you have at it.

The soft and plush bed is completely foreign to your back, Kiyoomi had you separated from Tobio because apparently you were still too ‘unstable’. It made you mentally scoff, between the both of you, he was the unstable one.

You wondered if they started to feed the small boy lies about you, Kiyoomi definitely milked it out to the press for sure. When he had found you, not only were your friends and family in a frenzy, the media was having a field day too. He had broken off the engagement and he used your ‘mental illness’ card on them and it worked.

Another story was weaved on papers, a love that transcended through time.

You let out a low sardonic laugh.

Mental Illness, you wondered if this could be a ploy for a suicide. After all, you’d rather be face first on the pavement than stay here with a son about to be fed on lies and a crazy bastard who sleeps next to you at night.

You stare out your window, the curtains were drawn as you looked at the free birds.

How envious.

“Y/N?” Kiyoomi comes in, a food tray in hand, “It’s time for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N it’s been two days, all you ate was an apple-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N, our son-”

“He was never my son.” You harshly snapback, your voice sharp, “He’s yours through and through, a fucking incarnate of you and a curse. He’s not mine. He never will be.”

You suddenly feel the presence of the small boy behind the door and there stands his boy, staring right at your eyes yet you feel nothing for him. You never felt anything for him. The moment they placed him on your arms to nurse, there was no joy nor light.

All he brought was a painful reminder.

Kiyoomi places the tray to the side and closes the door behind him, Tobio’s blank gaze still on you, “...Those aren’t words a child is supposed to hear, Y/N. Especially ours…” he inches closer and you clench your fist tightly and he places his hand on your neck and lightly holds it. 

You aren’t scared of him anymore, the nicest thing this guy could do was kill you, really.

“Maybe we should have a girl this time, hm?” his hand trails upwards to softly caress the side of your face.

You’re immediately frozen by his sudden choice of words, no, no-

“Maybe you’ll learn to love Tobio even more when you’re pregnant with another of mine-” before he could finish what he was about to say, you raise a hand and slap him right at his face, it must’ve been hard since it left a mark, “Ah, Y/N. I didn’t know you still liked it rough-”

“D-Don’t, I-I can’t get pregnant.” You're shaking this time as you try to come up with a lie, “I-I can’t…”

“Oh?” He tilts his head, “Why not?”

“I’ll die.” You lied, “When I had Tobio I almost died, my body couldn’t handle it. T-The doctor had said that if I were to have another, I’d die…”

The lie didn’t save you that moment, really. He has become an expert at detecting your lies so instead of a reply, he harshly places his lips on yours and despite protests, he just pins you down.

He’s harsh on you that night, spilling and stuffing you with his cum, whispering that you’ll have it all and that you’d be his everything but all you could do was let a small hiccup escape your lips as you tried to hold back your cries.

‘Someone, anyone, please.’ you pleaded internally.

You don’t see Tobio until a week later, the boy has grown a tad bit chubbier and is adorned with expensive clothes. Sakusa, on the other hand, has been force-feeding you to the point where you threw up right after meals (secretly, of course) 

You sit down at the couch as your son blinks at you, “...I’m sorry.” He breaks the silence and you shut your eyes tight as you recalled the harsh words he heard last week.

“I’m sorry too, Tobio.” you could only reply because genuinely, you did feel like you went too far this time. He didn’t choose to be born, a part of you should’ve saved him the misery and left him at the orphanage that time, “Do you hate me?” you ask.

“No.”

“You should.” You say quietly, “You should hate your otosan too.”

Tobio remains quiet at your words.

“When you grow older, don’t end up like him. don’t end up like us. forget us when you have the chance.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good and If you ever get the chance to leave, promise me that you get out and don’t look back.”

Tobio may have been eight years old that time but he knows fear when he sees it and he knows promises aren’t meant to be broken. He remembers those words well because it was the last long conversation he has with you. 

The month of December rolls by and it’s cold, you’ve given up fighting back at this point. Your glassy eyes are directed to the window, not even wanting to look down at your bulging stomach. Kiyoomi doesn’t even need to tell you twice to not leave the house, you decide upon yourself to just stay at your room on bed the whole time.

You wonder, just how high is it from up here? Would it hurt?

“Y/N?” a dreadful voice calls out.

“Hm.” 

“You haven’t gone out of our room in two months. You haven’t even seen Tobio.” Sakusa points out, you were like a obedient doll now. So lifeless, so still, you wished he’d discard you already.

“I might say something again, I don’t want to bother.” You replied truthfully, gaze still avoiding his.

The raven-haired man starts to caress your plump face, you had grown chubbier since the beginning of your pregnancy, he couldn’t be anymore happier to finally be there for you.

This was perfect.

You were finally his.

You weren’t letting go.

“...Don’t you ever regret it?” You finally ask, turning to him, your blank eyes staring at his rather deranged ones, the eyes that you once loved was now just a reminder of your resentful life.

“Which one?” He asks, inching in closer to kiss your neck, your collarbone. You let out a meek sigh as you shut your eyes and internally prayed for this to be over quickly as he removes your ribbon that held your flimsy nightgown together.

“You killed people.” You uttered, “Took my life away, don’t you regret it?”

“Why would I?”

Right, how could a monster like him have such empathy? You feel his cold fingers brush against your folds, trying to stimulate it.

Everything except your body screamed no but you were just too powerless now. You wondered, how could you even end this all? Was jumping out the window the only solution now?

“...Right...” You let out a soft painful moan as he dips his finger inside. You’re under the idea that despite this happening countless of times, you’re body would be numb to it all yet each time it happens, it pains you even more,  “You even had to kill your ex-fiancé’s father for us to get married.”

You had come to realize just how deep his obsession was, the man was willing to kill to anyone who got in the way of your ‘love’. You remembered finding out about your ex-chief one night, about how he had chopped off his fingers and left him to bleed dry in the alleyway for the rats to feast on.

You remembered when a news came up that his supposedly future-father-in-law had died in a violent explosion during breakfast time and how he was nonchalant about it.

“...It’s all for you, Y/N.” He implores as he kissed your thighs and continue to stimulate your now wet folds, “All for you, Tobio, and my new little girl.”

“You’re sick.”

“Mhm. You smell good, I should continue using the soap from awhile ago when I clean you, right?” he hummed, ignoring what you had just said as he dipped his head in and take a kitten lick on your sex. You let out a small cry as your body betrayed you.

Your prayers for today are unheard yet again.

“...Y/N, you barely come out of your room these days.” Komori exclaimed, it turns out the visitor from last time who knocked on your door was him and as much as you wanted to knock his teeth out, you decide not to because you don’t see the point in doing violence these days.

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, pregnancy does take a toll on your body.” He nods in agreement, it seemed like this was a casual thing for him, like you just weren’t repeatedly rape or mentally abused by his cousin, “Tobio certainly takes after his father, don’t you think?”

Your blood runs cold at the mention of the little boy, you had small hope for him either ways so you didn’t exactly cared for him anymore.

“I suppose so.” 

“You’ve gotten boring these days, Y/N.” Komori plainly pointed out, “It’s a wonder how my cousin gets to stick around ya. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Komori’s eyes narrowed at your hollowed response, you were so ungrateful. Here his cousin was, treating you with such delicateness and with all the attention that the other women wanted but you looked anything but happy about it.

If this was Hideko, she’d be elated.

But no, he had to be stuck with an ungrateful pompous bitch like you.

“How high up are we, Komori-san?” you suddenly ask.

He blinks at the rather weird question, “Fifty floors.”

“Hm.” You hummed, “That certainly is high.”

Komori would regret answering that question very soon though.

When the winter dawned upon a new year and you finally snap, you decide to answer your own prayers and opt to salvage yourself from this madness and cruelty once and for all.

Sakusa Tobio is nine years old when you, his mother, six months pregnant, jumped out the bedroom window from a fifty-foot story building two months into the new year. Your face is flat on the pavement and completely unrecognizable, the last conversation you both had replays on his head like a broken record through the years and only when he’s old enough that he realizes that he was no one’s son. 

His okaasan didn’t loved him nor did he want to be associated with his father for all he did was bring pain and disgust.

The boy is eighteen, fresh out of the academy, right in front of his baby sister’s and your mausoleum. He makes it a habit to visit you both a day before your death anniversary,  not wanting to be in the same room as his father yet this year he makes an exception.

Recently, he had turned over some evidence and his own testimony about what his father had been doing. Everything, from illegal works to the people he killed to your tragic end. It’s enough to file a case and have him set to jail for life, even his fancy lawyers couldn’t defend him. 

His lips sting because his Uncle Komori had punched him in the face and called him an ungrateful bastard like you but it was alright.

It was all over.

He plans to change his name back to Kageyama Tobio (the haux name you had given him when you were on the run) right after all the fiasco, it’s a kind name and the first name you had given him, he likes to think that this was also a gift from you that time, a new beginning straying away from you and his father's cruel ties. He had also felt that it was too unkind for him to use your last name despite his grandparents' persistence (he was after all, conceived through forceful means).

And although he wanted to hate you for those words you said that time when he was eight. He couldn’t really bring himself to after hearing what you had to go through, you were a victim. He couldn’t dare imagine what his father did to you during the last few months leading to your death.

Yet, right now. It was finished.

You could rest now.

“I did it, Y/N-san.” He mumbles as he bows down. As he got older, he has also foregone the idea of calling you by the name you loathed and shriveled away from, “I got out and I didn’t look back. Thank you for everything.”

Kageyama Tobio never visits you right after again, as promised.

[capseycartwright]

but at the cost I payed, I'm pretty sure I got screwed

buck wasn't exactly sure how to process the fact he'd been lied to, his entire life - that his parents had forced maddie to keep such a fundamental part of his past, his life, from him. but - at least he wasn't alone.

or - eight conversations between buck and his true family as he comes to terms with the existence of the brother he never knew he had. set post 4x04

ao3 link

i. albert

Buck had forgotten that Albert would be home, when he managed to stumble through his own front door – breath catching in his chest as he tried to process the bombshell Maddie had just dropped on his life. Maybe – maybe it was rude of him, cruel to forget that he shared his apartment with the younger man, that Albert lived on his couch, but Buck had forgotten, and how he wasn’t sure of a kind way to tell Albert that if he had to have a conversation with another human being, there and then, that he would scream.

And he might not be able to stop screaming.

Albert was looking at him with genuine concern written all over his face, sliding the pan he was using to cook off the hob, so it wouldn’t burn. “Are you okay, Buck?” he asked, and Buck knew he could talk to Albert, and he would try to understand; burdened by his own family issues in ways that would make it easier to admit the insanity of the Buckley family aloud.

But Buck couldn’t.

“That’s kind of a loaded question, Albert,” Buck managed to choke the words out, anxiety clawing at his chest.

Albert inclined his head slightly. “Okay,” he conceded. “Are you well enough to be here, alone – or as alone as you can be with me, here,” he grinned slightly at his own words. “Or do you need me to call someone?”

“I don’t think I know,” Buck admitted, forcing himself to sit at the kitchen table, his blood thundering in his ears as he tried to process everything.

He had a brother. He has a brother – even if that brother wasn’t alive, anymore. Buck had a brother – he wasn’t the only Buckley boy, like he’d believed for so much of his life. For twenty-nine years, he’d thought Maddie was his only sibling, but she wasn’t, and Buck’s entire world felt like it had been spun on its axis and nothing made sense, anymore; but somehow everything made more sense than it ever had before, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that.

Albert pushed a glass of water toward him, a kind look on his face.

“I don’t think I can talk about it, yet,” Buck admitted, the cool condensation dripping down the side of the glass – a housewarming gift from Hen and Karen, glasses nicer than he’d ever buy himself, if he was being honest – grounding in the way it reminded Buck that he wasn’t dreaming, the glass wet to touch.

“That’s okay,” Albert shrugged. “I can talk, instead, if you want.”

Buck could have cried, with relief. “Yeah, that would be great, Albert.”

Albert grinned. “Okay,” he nodded, moving his pan back onto the hob. “So – I had an online class, today, and one of my classmates, they were clearly not paying attention, but as it turns out, they had taken a series of photos of themselves, and were playing it as a video……..”

Buck forced himself to focus on Albert’s words, his roommate talking about the perfectly mundane happenings of his day, how his online classes went, how their neighbour down the hall still firmly believed he and Buck were a couple, and how its quite sweet, really, because she’s trying her hardest to make sure that they know she accepts them, and she’ll be dropping by a loaf of banana bread, in the morning.

It wasn’t until Albert set a bowl down in front of Buck, a simple pasta dish that made Buck’s stomach growl in acknowledgement of how hungry he was, that Buck spoke, looking at his roommate – his friend – with watery eyes.

“Thank you,” Buck managed to sputter out.

Albert shrugged. “You need to eat,” he said, pushing a fork toward Buck. “My grandmother – she always said that the problems of the world looked a little less daunting, when you looked at them with a full stomach.”

“I don’t just mean for the food,” Buck croaked, though he was grateful for the food – because he wasn’t sure if he had the mental energy to try and make himself dinner, to remember how to cook any of the ingredients that sat in his well-stocked kitchen. “I mean – for taking me out of my head, for a minute.”

Albert smiled, in that endearingly sincere way he always did, Chimney’s brother always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “What are roommates for?”

ii. bobby

It’s not as though Buck particularly wanted to tell Bobby, about what was going on – but after the incident at the fire, after the way Buck had been acting, he knew he had to, he knew that he had to admit to his boss what was happening. He’d been insufferable to work with, Buck knew, and his boss was owed an explanation.

What Buck hadn’t expected was Bobby’s reaction. It wasn’t – it wasn’t the reaction of a Captain, a professional acknowledgement of a personal trauma that Buck wasn’t able to compartmentalise and leave at home, like he was supposed to, it was the reaction of a friend, Bobby pulling Buck in for a determined, bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so sorry, Buck,” Bobby’s voice was calm, against the sea of static that was buzzing in Buck’s head, something Buck could cling to as he stood, still as a statue, in Bobby’s embrace.

“You didn’t do anything,” Buck found himself saying, confused.

Bobby pulled back, hands on Buck’s shoulders. “I can be sorry, even if I didn’t have a role to play in this,” he said. “Buck, I’m sorry for you as your friend – what your parents hid from you, it was cruel. You didn’t deserve to be lied to like that.”

Buck swallowed his tears, focusing his gaze on one of the photos hanging on the back wall of Bobby’s office. “Their kid died,” he said, voice robotic as he voiced the sentence he’d practiced over, and over. “I can’t blame them.”

“Yes, you can,” Bobby’s voice was fierce. “Buck – I had to bury my own children. That is a pain I will never forget, and one I will live with for the rest of my life. I can’t even begin to describe to you what that grief, the grief of losing a child, feels like, and I hope you never, ever understand it,” he said. “But I have never put the burden of that grief on May, or Harry. Your parents had no right to force you, and Maddie, to bear their grief in the way they did. It was wrong. It is wrong.”

Buck hated how easily he was crying – how easily he’d always been reduced to tears, too soft, too emotional, not enough of a tough guy to please his father. “It was?” his voice was tiny as he spoke, unsure if he could take Bobby’s words at face value. Was Bobby saying that just to placate him? To make it so he could suck it up, and work?

“Yes, Buck,” Bobby’s voice was firm. “It was wrong – and no one in this team is going to begrudge you the time you need to process this. We’re your family, and we’re here for you. Okay? I’m here for you Buck, whatever you need.”

Buck hadn’t been hugged a lot, as a kid – not by his parents, at least. That was a pitifully sad thing to admit, but it was the truth – for all the ways Maddie had been kind, and affectionate, pressing kisses to Buck’s curls and hugging him close, his parents had been cold, and physically distant, never giving Buck more than a pat on the shoulder.

He knew why, now. They looked at him and all they saw was Daniel – all they ever saw was the son who would forever be twelve, frozen in time. They had watched him grow up, and maybe he was tolerable, when he was younger, when he was going through all the same phases that Daniel had – but as soon as Buck had turned thirteen, and lived longer than the brother he didn’t know existed, his parents had kept their distance more, and more, and then Maddie had left, and Buck had been left to crave physical affection, taking that intimacy wherever he could get it, regardless of the impact it had on him, regardless of how it would all leave him feeling even lonelier, when it was over.

But –

Bobby was a dad.

Not his dad –

But someone’s dad.

“Could I…” Buck cut himself off, embarrassed. “Could I have another hug, Bobby?”

Bobby’s eyes were sad, and full of sympathy – but not pity, Buck noted. “Yeah, kid,” Bobby said, pulling him in for a hug, Buck forced to stoop a little, to match Bobby’s height, comfortable in the embrace, this time. “You can have a hug.”

iii. hen

“Hey there, Buckaroo.”

Buck looked up to see Hen approaching him, doughnut in hand.

“You were missing out on the sugar delivery,” Hen explained, hanging him the plate. “So I snagged you your favourite flavour.”

Buck wanted to cry. “You didn’t have to do that, Hen.”

Hen shrugged, sliding down the wall so she was sitting on the concrete next to him, the bright sun of the Los Angeles afternoon beating down on them, the corner they were sitting in slightly secluded, distant from the noise of the firehouse that Buck normally thrived in – just, not today.

“I wanted to,” she said, taking a bite of her own doughnut – cinnamon sugar, Buck noted, her favourite. She’d always been the one to support Buck’s belief that simple was best, when it came to doughnuts, never making fun of Buck’s preference for plain old raspberry jelly flavour; unlike Chimney and the rest of the team, who favoured the hipster doughnut place around the corner from the station, and all the weird flavours they sold.

“Because you feel sorry for me?” Buck found himself asking.

“Because you’re my friend,” Hen corrected, nudging Buck’s knee with her own. “And I can see you’re hurting, Buck, so I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Buck knew he didn’t look the best, rocking up to their shift that morning – his eyes were red raw from crying, because he was in that stage of processing it all, now (Dr. Copeland had assured him that crying was a perfectly healthy trauma response, but Buck was tired of Albert’s quietly concerned looks, because apparently even crying alone in his shower didn’t guarantee privacy in the tiny space they co-existed in.)

He just hadn’t realised he looked that bad.

“I guess you know, then,” Buck murmured, poking at his doughnut. He’d given Bobby permission to tell the team, if he felt it was appropriate – he just hadn’t been able to face the prospect of telling them himself.

“No,” Hen’s voice was firm. “Whatever is going on with you, is your story to tell, Buck. Unless you want to tell me, I have no intention of finding out what is happening.”

Buck shot her a confused look.

“Chimney, he gave me the impression that whatever you’ve found out, is something that was kept from you by the people you love most in the world, and you didn’t have a choice in who found out, because Maddie told him first, and when – and when you got trapped, in that fire, Chimney panicked and told some of the team,” Hen said, explaining what Buck already knew – what Chimney had already desperately apologised for, terrified that Buck’s newfound knowledge of his dead brother had pushed him from resident daredevil to on the verge of suicidal.

Buck didn’t blame him, really.

“I didn’t hear the secret, at the fire,” Hen said. “And I asked Bobby not to tell me. I want you to be able to tell at least one person, on your own terms, if you want to tell me. And if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay too – I just want you to have the option. I’m happy to be the friend who doesn’t know, if that’s what you need.”

Hen’s sincerity was making Buck want to cry again, his friend looking at him earnestly as she spoke. He knew that if he asked her, Hen would do her best to never find out what Buck’s secret was – Hen was good with secrets – and Buck wasn’t sure how to voice his appreciation out loud in a way that felt appropriate for the magnitude of what Hen was offering him.

Peace.

The power to take control of his own situation.

Buck hadn’t felt in control from the moment he had picked up that photograph of Daniel, and Maddie had admitted who it was, but now, for a second, at least, he felt in control.

“I had a brother,” Buck admitted, hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. “I had a brother, and they never told me – they kept him from me. For my whole life, they kept him from me, Hen.”

“Oh, Buck,” Hen’s voice was thick with emotion as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“I know – I know it wouldn’t have change the fact he died, when I was a baby,” Buck continued, managing to talk about it, even just a little, for the first time since he’d found out. “But I deserved to know, Hen.”

“Yes, you did,” Hen was fierce in her agreement. “They had no right to keep his existence from you, Buck.”

“It explains it, you know,” Buck glanced at Hen, the protectiveness that was written all over her face making his heart twist in his chest. “Why they never loved me, not really – I was never Daniel.”

“I’m not even going to pretend to understand your parents,” Hen said, wrapping her arms around Buck’s shoulders, pulling him close, running a hand through his curls, the same way Maddie used to, when he was younger. “But I’ll tell you something for nothing, Buck; I love you. I love you like a brother, and I know its not the same, but I love you. And loving you has been damn easy, from the moment you stepped into this fire station – because you have a heart of goddamn gold, Buck. And your parents inability to see that is not your fault.”

Buck let out a shuddering sigh, leaning into the comforting embrace Hen was offering him. “I’m not sure if I believe you, Hen.”

“That’s okay,” Hen reassured. “I’ll keep reminding you until you do.”

“You will?”

“I will,” Hen confirmed. “Because that’s what family does, Buck. Now – eat your doughnut before we get called out.”

iv. chimney

Buck hated the tentative way that his friend – and teammate, and future brother-in-law, probably – approached him, looking nervous. He hated it – and he hated how he didn’t have it in him to put a stop to it, just yet.

“Hey, Buck,” Chimney greeted.

Buck paused what he was doing, the chrome of the ladder truck already gleaming from the thorough polish he had given it. “Are you here as my sisters boyfriend, Chimney, or my friend?”

“As your friend,” Chimney answered without a second’s hesitation, which Buck had to admit he appreciated.

“Okay,” Buck put the polish down entirely, nodding. “Because I’m not ready to talk to Maddie about this yet.”

“She knows,” Chimney nodded, quiet for a second. “I wanted to talk to you as my friend, Buck, because – and I would walk through fire for your sister – you were my friend before I ever met Maddie, and I don’t want you to forget that. I care about you as more than just my girlfriends brother, Buck, and I’m – I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

Buck didn’t have a reason not to believe Chimney – really, he didn’t. “I’m still angry,” he admitted. “That you knew before I did. You had no right to know before I did, Chim.”

“I know,” Chimney agreed, rocking forward on his heels as he spoke. “I wish I didn’t know, Buck,” he said. “I wish I hadn’t found out before you. I – I said, from the moment I knew, that you deserved to know, but as much as it wasn’t my place to know before you, it wasn’t my place to tell you. It needed to come from Maddie, and your parents.”

Buck nodded. It was true – that it would have been worse to hear it from Chimney, and not Maddie, or his mom and dad. Of all the people to hear it from, Chimney would have been the worst one. It should have come from his parents, really – from the people who’d forced a child, their daughter, to keep their older brother’s existence a secret their entire lives. Maddie had been nine, when she’d been forced to pretend Daniel had never existed. She couldn’t have possibly understood the consequences of their parents refusal to acknowledge that Daniel had been a part of their lives, once.

“I know,” Buck said finally. “I know, Chim. I just – I can’t pretend like I’m feeling all that logical, about all of this. I’m trying – I’m just not there yet.”

Chimney’s expression was genuinely understanding. “You don’t need to be logical about this, Buck,” he shook his head. “You’re entitled to deal with this and grieve – and be angry as hell – in whatever way works best for you. I just – I wanted to know that I’m here for you, that I’m your friend. And if you need to talk to me, I can be your friend – and just your friend, not Maddie’s boyfriend. What we talk about, it stays between me and you, Buck.”

Buck gave Chimney a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chim,” he said, awkwardly wringing his polish rag between his hands, twisting, and pulling, the material taut in his hands. “I just don’t think I’m ready to talk about it with anyone, yet.”

And that was the truth of it –

Buck wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone, not his friends, not Maddie, not even with his therapist – not yet.

“Then let’s talk about something else,” Chimney said, grabbing another polish rag, smirking at Buck. “Like your terrible polish job.”

Buck glared good-naturedly at Chimney. “I’m not a probie anymore, Chim, don’t start this.”

Chimney whistled cheerfully as he started to polish, grinning. “You’ll always be a probie to me, Buckaroo.”

v. athena

Buck hadn’t seen Athena in a while – their calls didn’t actually crossover, all that much, so it wasn’t all that unusual to have not seen her in a few weeks. A part of Buck was glad – and not because he didn’t love Athena, but he wasn’t sure if he could cope with seeing the anger she carried on his behalf in person. Buck didn’t like when other people felt burdened by his issues.

“Buck.”

Buck paused, halfway back to the truck. He couldn’t exactly ignore his Captain’s wife – or anyone, for that matter. Maddie (Maddie, always Maddie, not their parents) had raised him better than that, had raised him to be polite. “Hi, Athena.”

“I know you’re not ready to talk about it,” Athena said, hands on hips, stance fierce and protective and everything Buck never had in a mother. He was glad, May and Harry had her, at least. “But I wanted you to know – parents shouldn’t lie to their children the ways yours have lied to you. It’s cruel, and I’m sorry it happened to you, Buck.”

Buck didn’t quite know what to say. “Uh – thank you?”

“I’m not trying to overstep,” Athena raised her hands in surrender. “I’m not your mother. I’m your friend, though, Buck – and I’m someone’s mom, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking that your parents did all this out of some twisted sense of protection for you, and Maddie. Parents – however hard – should teach you how to grieve. Not teach you to be invisible as a punishment for something you never knew happened.”

Buck nodded, shaking hands gripping tightly to his halogen. “You’re a great mom, Athena,” he said quietly.

“And you’re a great man, Evan Buckley,” Athena gave his elbow a squeeze. “I just thought you should hear that from someone today.”

vi. christopher

Buck had an armful of Christopher the second he walked through the front door of the Diaz household, the little boy flying at him, crutches and all. “Oh, hey, buddy,” Buck laughed, easily scooping a wriggling Christopher up, easing his crutches off of his arms so he could hug him properly.

“I’m glad you’re here, Buck!” Christopher said, grinning widely at Buck, his new braces glinting in the soft light of the evening, reminding Buck of how grown up the kid in his arms was getting – on the cusp of his teenage years, all too soon.

“I’m glad I’m here too, buddy,” Buck replied, holding Christopher close. He wasn’t even the kids dad – and he couldn’t imagine ever lying to him, like his parents had to him, couldn’t imagine doing anything except loving the little boy with everything he had.

“Dad said you’ve had a bad week,” Christopher said matter-of-factly. “So we have a surprise for you.”

“Oh, you do?” Buck gave Christopher a watery smile, flashing Eddie a confused look.

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “It was all this guy,” he said proudly. “I just did the driving.”

Buck laughed, looking back at Christopher. “Where are we going, then?”

“Kitchen!”

Tossing a giggling Christopher over his shoulder, Buck made his way to the kitchen, Christopher chatting excitedly as he moved. Buck felt like he was going to cry – really, properly cry – when he spotted the feast of all of his favourite things on the Diaz kitchen table.

“We got all your favourites!” Christopher explained. “Popcorn, and chocolate – and pizza! And we’re going to watch Inside Out, because its your favourite film, and me and dad, we’re going to make sure you feel better, Buck.”

Buck wiped roughly at his eyes. This kid. “I already feel better, buddy.”

Christopher’s brow was furrowed. “But you’re crying.”

“People can cry when they’re happy, Chris,” Eddie explained, running a soothing hand down Buck’s back. “It doesn’t always mean someone is sad.”

“Your dad is right,” Buck confirmed. “I’m crying because I’m happy – and I’m very grateful to have such a thoughtful kid taking care of me.”

Christopher grinned again, patting a sticky hand against Buck’s cheek. “You’re gonna be o-kay, kid,” he beamed, and for the first time, Buck almost believed it.

vii. eddie

“He’s out like a light,” Buck said softly, half closing the porch door behind them – enough that they wouldn’t wake Christopher, with their conversation, but still open enough that they’d be able to hear if Christopher woke up in the night.

Christopher had insisted on Buck being the one to put him to bed, that night, despite how hard Eddie tried to get Christopher to give Buck a break – but Buck had enjoyed the routine of it all, if he was being honest, Christopher’s happy snorts as Buck (badly) danced around the bathroom while Christopher brushed his teeth making him forget the car-wreck his life was for a few minutes, at least.

Eddie nodded, nudging a beer toward Buck. “You spoil him, you know,” he said, not a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I know you read him two chapters of his book, not one.”

Buck hummed gratefully. “I know,” he said, voice dropping. “Kids deserve to be spoiled, a bit at least.”

“How are you doing Buck? Really?” Eddie asked, and Buck felt a dam inside him break – he’d kept everything he was feeling so bottled up, for so long, and all of a sudden, on his best friends back porch, it all came pouring out, tears cascading down his cheeks.

“I had a brother,” Buck hiccupped out, bordering on hysterical as he cried, Eddie moving quickly so he was crouching in front of Buck, soothing hands on Buck’s knees. “I had a brother, Eddie.”

Eddie’s face was twisted, a mixture of heartbreak and sympathy. “I know, Buck,” he soothed softly, gentle hands wiping at Buck’s tears, taking Buck’s hands in his own, grounding Buck in the new reality he had found himself in, the past few weeks – a world where he was suddenly the youngest of three siblings, the third Buckley, not the second.

“I always wanted a brother,” Buck admitted out-loud for the first time, unable to stop his tears, gripping tightly to Eddie’s hands. “I love – I love Maddie, but I always wanted a brother, too, and I had one, and I didn’t know, and I can’t stop thinking about how different life might have been if he was still around. He was ten years older than me.”

Eddie was quiet.

“His name was Daniel,” Buck said, shakily voicing his brothers name out-loud for the first time to someone other than maybe. “His name was Daniel, and he was ten years older than me, and I’d have been a really good brother to him, and that’s all I know, and I just – I wish I knew more.”

“You know,” Eddie’s voice was soft, and reassuring, comforting and grounding in ways that Buck wasn’t sure how he ever lived without before, his best friend the kind of anchor Buck needed, in his life. “I bet Maddie knows more.”

“Eddie….”

“I know it hurts,” Eddie squeezed Buck’s hands, his expression encouraging as Buck forced himself to look at the older man. “And it’s going to hurt for a long time, Buck, and I’m sorry for that – but you’re not alone in that hurt. Me, Chris, Hen – the others – we’re here, and we love you, and we’ll do our best to understand, but there’s one person in the world that shares this hurt with you.”

“But she knew, Eddie, she knew all along, and she didn’t tell me – and I know she was a kid and it wasn’t her fault, but it still hurts, because she got to know him and grieve him, and I didn’t.”

“Did she?” Eddie countered, wise as ever now he went to regular therapy. “She had to pretend he didn’t exist. To grieve properly – you need to talk about the person, about who they were, and Maddie didn’t get to do that. As much as she can help you get to know who Daniel was, you can help her grieve the brother she wasn’t allowed to remember. I can’t help you do that.”

Buck tightened his grip on Eddie’s hands. “I can’t, not yet,” he admitted hoarsely. “Not tonight.”

“No,” Eddie hummed his agreement. “Tonight its just you and me, and the rest of these beers, and as much crying as you want. Okay?”

Buck laughed. Back when he first met Eddie, he could never have imagined their friendship getting to this point – to where they could sit, and talk, and drink and cry together. Somehow, somewhere along the way, they’d created this safe space, together, and Buck had never been more grateful for his best friend than he was, there and then.

He had a brother.

And tonight – tonight was the first time he’d said that out loud and hadn’t felt bitter, and angry, about it. Tonight had been the first time he’d said those words out loud and wondered who the person was, who Daniel had been – instead of focusing on the lies, the hurt of it all.

That was progress.

Swallowing thickly, Buck wiped at his sore eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he directed his question at Eddie.

“Anything?” Eddie’s lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile.

“Anything,” Buck confirmed.

Eddie grinned. “Did you know - nearly three percent of the ice in Antarctic glaciers is penguin urine?”

Buck snorted, the sound outrageously loud in the quiet of the evening. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

(He knew – of course he knew. Eddie was the only person who knew exactly how to bring Buck out of his own head, with odd facts and quirky news articles, anything to distract Buck from the overwhelming noise of his own thoughts).

Eddie took a swig of his beer, smiling contently. “You’re not the only one who can know weird things.”

viii. maddie

When she opened the door, Maddie greeted Buck with a relief he didn’t feel deserving to be on the receiving end of.

“I’m sorry, Maddie.”

“No,” Maddie interrupted, pulling him close, clinging tightly to his shoulders, refusing to let her pregnant belly be an obstacle to squeezing the life out of Buck – and he couldn’t say he was opposed to a bone-crushing hug from his sister. “You don’t need to apologise, Buck, not to me – not about this. I should be apologising to you.”

Buck pressed his face into the material of Maddie’s cardigan, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. She’d worn the same one since she was a teenager, and in the years when they weren’t in contact, Buck – well, he’d sometimes go to the perfume section of the department store, and sneak a sample, desperate to feel close to his sister, even if Doug had long since cut her off from him.

“I can’t hear you,” Maddie admitted, her voice soft as she ran a gentle hand through Buck’s hair.

“I said,” Buck pulled back slightly, Maddie’s tears reflecting his own. “I know we’ve got a lot to talk about – but uh, Maddie, will you tell me about him?”

Maddie brushed away a few stray tears of Buck’s before they had the chance to drip from his chin, nodding. “I’d really like that,” she confirmed, tugging Buck toward the couch. Her baby box was still on the coffee table, a photograph of Daniel – the same one Buck had found – propped up against the wood, another one next to it.

Of the three of them.

Buck looked as though he couldn’t be more than a few weeks old, in the photograph, Maddie proudly holding him in her arms, a little boy who was familiar, in so many ways, hair blond and bright like Buck’s had been, as a child – and unfamiliar in so many others, a kid who would forever be twelve years old.

“Is that us?” Buck asked, doing his best to fold his long limbs, curling himself up against Maddie, thinking back to when they were kids, and all the evenings they’d do the same – Buck curled up in her lap as they watched TV, or as Maddie soothed his tears after a fight with their parents. Her belly got in the way, a bit, and a part of Buck’s heart ached with the knowledge that someone else, his niece, would curl up in Maddie’s lap the same way he used to, in just a matter of months, but he pushed the thought aside.

“I told everyone you were my baby,” Maddie said, sounding like she was smiling. “Oh, I loved you so much from the moment you were born, Buck, and I wouldn’t let Daniel go near you – because you were mine.”

Buck didn’t try and stop his tears, now.

“He loved you just as much,” Maddie continued. “He would tell dad, how excited he was to be able to teach you to play soccer, one day, and ride a bike.”

All the things Maddie had taught him, in the end, Buck thought to himself.

“He picked your middle name,” Maddie continued. “Because he had a best friend called EJ, and he told mom and dad that you should have the same initials – Evan James - because you were going to be his new best friend.”

Closing his eyes, Buck let Maddie’s words wash over him, painting a picture of someone he would never have the chance to know – but loved, Buck thought, all the same, because Daniel couldn’t have known, how life would turn out without him, because he had only been a kid, when he died – and he wouldn’t have understood.

“He’d be proud of you, I think,” Maddie said quietly, pressing a kiss to Buck’s curls. “Because I am, Buck, I am so proud of you. You are not a disappointment. You are the greatest man I have ever known and I am so proud of you, and I love you, and I’ll tell everyone the same thing I told them when I was eight and I held you for the first time. You’re mine, Buck, not theirs.”

Buck nodded, not trusting himself to open his eyes. “I love you, Maddie.”

“I love you, little brother,” Maddie sounded like she was crying too, now. “We’re going to be okay.”

Buck –

Well, he didn’t have a reason not to believe his sister.

He wanted to believe her.

And maybe –

Just maybe.

He already did.

Yeah.

They would be okay.

[omiscurls]

Lady and The Tramp - sakusa kiyoomi x reader

well hi! It’s been a while since I wrote one of those, huh?

so obviously the volleyball player you’re gonna fall for today is sakusa kiyoomi

the word count: around 2K 

summary: your boyfriend and you go for a winter walk with his dog, and he gets a bit nostalgic. 

and let’s go!

The sun shines a little bit different every season of the year. The winter sun is a tad bit more harsh and refreshing that the slow, dripping summer mornings. And as you look at the white, glistening snow, and the cold sun rays shining directly at it, you just have the urge to go out and do something with yourself, don’t you?

Same struggles happened in Sakusa Kiyoomi’s head that very morning when he woke up to a cold apartament drowning in sun rays, causing him to put a hand over his eyes, to cover them from the merciless light.

“Did I forget to turn the heaters on again?” He whined, and cursed his need to open windows before going to sleep each night. Now it was almost impossible for him to get out of the sheets, considering the temperature in his room was way below zero.

He managed to get one arm outside the warm bed and reached for his phone, charging on the side table. A sight of you in his MSBY shirt, sat on a kitchen counter and showing something you just baked, with a proud grin on your face on his wallpaper greeted him, and the widget above your head told him that it was six in the morning.

So he woke up before his alarm? Impressive, given that it was a Saturday and no practice was planned. He had exactly thirty two minutes before his phone would tell him to “get his ass out of bed” and go for a run.

Sighing, he threw the phone away on the mattrace, and wrapping his blanket around him, he went over to the window.

It snowed last night.

Wait, it snowed last night?

Suddenly, he was a little kid inside, because oh gosh, it never snowed these days! It was all looking so nice, everything covered in a white layer, as if it wasn’t the outside of his apartment, but a picture taken from a children’s book.

After he almost jumped from excitement, the adult side of his has taken over. If it snowed, it meant the temperature went below zero. If it went below zero, the sidewalk would be so slippery that running would be almost impossible.

Well, screw it. He wasn’t going to let a tad little detail like that ruin his good mood. And so he went over to each radiator he had and turned it on, then going to bed again and scrolling through his social media until the temperature around was warm enough for him to leave the sheets. 

And so it took a couple of hours for him to finally get himself up and going, but it was still fairly early when you knocked on the door of his apartment, and heard some shuffling inside.

“Sit already, would you? Fine, okay, I know you’re excited, but-“ your boyfriend’s voice was cut off by a bark, and he was silent for a second, while on the other side of the door, you were barely holding in your laugh.

“Hey! Behave! No!” he raised his voice ever so slightly, but apparently it worked on the poor dog, because soon enough you saw him, leant against the doorframe with both his hands in his pockets, his pet sitting beside him, although almost jumping from excitement upon seeing someone else.

“Oh, didn’t expect you here today” he said nonchalantly, a smirk forming on his lips, as he knew well that he invited you here himself. You rolled your eyes, and passed him by, leading yourself to his bathroom. “Not even a hello?” he whined jokingly, as you shook your head.

“I was in a public bus, let me go wash my hands” you explained, and he nodded, mentally trying to convince himself that’s just something people do. You’re not doing it just for him.

He followed you to the bathroom and once again stood in the door, looking at you with a happy spark in his eyes.

You looked so in place while just casually standing anywhere in his apartament. Like you belonged there. And he was almost certain you indeed, did belong there. He wouldn’t have you any other place, rather than by his side.

“You should really get a license already” he said, quickly looking down at his nails, so you wouldn’t see him stare.

“Mhm” you agreed silently, wiping your hands “I know” you slowly approached him, firstly playing with the material of his shirt, and after a while, curling his hair on your finger. It required staying on your tippy toes, which he found endearing. “And you, sir, are due for a haircut”

“Am I?” he said, touching his curls himself, but not leaving you to check in the mirror. “Can you do it?”

You giggled.

That was kinda part of the plan, since he absolutely loved hearing you laugh. He wasn’t the most funny person on earth, yet he was motivated to become a full comedian just to hear that genuine chuckle you gave his finest jokes.

„I cant cut your hair, silly” you said, rubbing his temple with one finger as you were still playing with the pitch black curls. “You have to go to a salon”

He shivered theatrically, rolling his eyes at you and walking away towards the kitchen. “And here I thought you loved me” he huffed, making you smile in disbelief.

“You’re being a baby!”

“I’ll ask my sister to do it”

“Your sister lives kinda away, you’re aware of that, right?” you continued, following his steps to the bigger room, where he was sitting on the floor and tying his shoes.

“So? She loves me, she’ll do it”

“She has her own kid to take care of, she doesn’t need a twenty two year old one” you shoot back, remembering the last family reunion you attended with your boyfriend. It was a complete mess, but meeting his parents explained... a whole lot of things about his character. 

He really did look like a little kid, reaching for another one of his sneakers, scarf already put half on around his neck, smiling softly, having to pause the process of tying his shoes every time his dog tried to lick his face in excitement. The poorly named Swiss Setter never left your boyfriend’s side whenever he was home, so used to his their very own slow lifestyle. 

You knew damn well she was emotionally attached to her owner, and loved him dearly, as you were the one to babysit her whenever Kiyoomi had an out of town game, and the first couple of times she didn’t sleep at all, and neither did you. It required him staying overnight at your place together with the dog for her to understand it’s a safe place. 

“Now now, calm down, Lady, at least let me tie my shoes!” he giggled childishly. The first time you ever saw him snuggled up on the couch with the dog, watching some crappy Netflix show, you couldn’t believe your eyes. 

THE Kiyoomi Sakusa. On the couch. With a dog. 

You soon found out that Lady, because that’s the crappy name the dog so proudly got by, had been one of your boyfriend’s only friends until the time he graduated. She wasn’t exactly a rescue dog, but his older brother brought her home from his former friend’s house, where she didn’t exactly had the best start in life. 

Kiyoomi didn’t fall in love at first sight, he needed time to adjust to having a dog in the house, but Lady seemed very fond of him, and weirdly enough, only listened to his commands. (The trainer said it’s about his voice, as it is deep and raspy, when he says something loudly enough, she feels respect towards him). 

He was soon in charge of training the dog to be a good pet for a household such as the Sakusas place, a huge, always so elegant and spotless house, where no one is around too often, but frankly, “family friends” came back every other night to drink rosé with his mother, or whisky with his father. 

It was to no one’s surprise, that when Kiyoomi moved away and went to college, his porcelain doll of a mother and distant father couldn’t get a hold of the Swiss Setter, who’s manners weren’t so ladylike. The deal was simple, either kiyoomi takes her to his place, or she ends up in a shelter. 

And as he loved dogs, and secretly had a heart of a four-year-old, he took her in with himself, and, frankly, let her rule over his at-home life all the time. 

She was very well behaved when in public, knew what was on her owner’s mind by the look in his eyes and reacted on the snaps of his fingers, but inside the four walls of his apartment, she could walk all over him, which you found amusing. 

Kiyoomi put her on her leash, and rose his eyebrow at you. 

“Coming?” he asked, having the door opened for you already. You nodded and left, waiting for him to lock the door behind the three of you. 

It was cold outside, but not too cold, and the air was refreshing, even in such a city as Osaka is. Kiyoomi mindlessly tied his pinky with yours, a bit of a hard thing to do in leather gloves, but he was all about the details. 

After two years of your relationship, he was perfectly capable of holding your hand just fine, but sentimentally enough opted to hold your pinky instead, as if your romance was fresh once again. 

You smiled at the feeling and squeezed his pinky back with yours, You glanced over at him staring at his feet, as you walked towards the park in comfortable silence. 

“When do you have the next match, Omi?” you started a casual conversation, and he looked as if you took him out of a trans of sorts. 

“Oh, uhm, next Friday” he answered upsentmindedly. You caught him sparing loving glances in Lady’s direction, an indescribable nostalgy painting his face in cold colors. 

When you reached the entrance to the huge park, where dogs were allowed off leash, you bent over and made a snowball, the throwing it at his back. He turned around to face you and gave you a look of betrayal. 

“You didn’t” he whispered. 

“I think I did” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hands, waiting for his next move. 

He bit back a smirk, trying to remain stoic as he kneeled down to release Lady off her leash, hiding it in the pocket of his black coat, then picking up snow in his hands and forming a round snowball, directing it right at you. 

Lady kept running around the two of you, jumping in excitement, not fully understanding what you’re doing, but happy to be a part of it. 

“Hey, ouch!” you laughed, theatrically covering the shoulder it reached. “You didn’t need to spike it!” 

There weren’t many people at the park that day, considering the fact that it was first snow, and parents don’t usually bring kids, who want to build snowmen, to a park where dogs are allowed off leash. 

“Oh, you wanna see a spike?” a little smile covered his lips, exposing his blushing cheeks, contrasting with the rest of his pale face, and dark curls. 

“Try me, pretty boy” 

“Aight” he put his hands up in an agreeing gesture “Just don’t whine about the bruises later” 

“Same goes to you” 

He huffed, getting back as he gathered snow in his hands and rolled it a bit before aiming at you, jumping in place as you tried to “become a harder target to hit”. He shook his head in disbelief. 

God, I love that dork, he thought, purposely frowning and posing as if he was about to serve. 

Lady kept jumping around him, noticing a round object in his hand. 

“This is not for you, dummy” he laughed, but noticing her excitement, excitement that he didn’t get to see a lot recently, since she was visibly getting older, and more tired, a warm feeling flooded over his chest. He sighed. “Alright, you want it? You want it?” he kept teasing, making her jump around, before breaking the ball and rubbing the snow in her fur.  

She layed down on her back, showing her tummy for pets, which he did obviously provide, tickling that one spot that made her move her leg uncontrollably. 

He got up, and formed another snowball, showing it to her. 

“Watch out, I’m throwing it!” he said to her, before aiming at some free space far from him, throwing the ball from behind his back, watching with a heartwarming smile as she ran after it. 

He seemed to have forgotten about defeating you, watching as his dog kept digging for the “ball” that already disappeared in the snow, so you walked back up to him. 

“You okay?” you asked softly, and he looked at you in surprise. 

“Yeah, obviously” he responded, but something seemed off. You tangled your arms around his shoulder, smushing your cheek against it, and looking at Lady sniffing around the place the snowball landed. “You know, if it weren’t for her, I’d still be too anxious to pet dogs I like when I’m on walks” he started, his mind some place else. 

“Well, many things wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her. We probably wouldn’t have met!” you smiled against the fabric of the thick coat, both of you remembering that sunny afternoon when you sat by the river in the park, reading some sort of upsetting news on your phone, frowning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, when suddenly, you flinched, seeing a snoot between your arms, and when you parted it, you saw a panting, big dog staring back at you. You heard a distressed  “Oh my god, Lady! Come back here!” in the distance, and you lifted your eyes to see a tall like a tower twenty-year old, black curls swept away from his face with hairgel, but getting a bit in the way due to the wind, the guy wearing black t-shirt, with a golden logo, of what appeared to be a... fox? You then thought, only later discovering it’s actually a Jackal, and the letters B and J on the sides of it, and sporty shorts. Apparently, they were on a run. 

“I’m so, so sorry, she never does that. Please don’t get too mad at her, she means no harm! Oh, my god, Lady, come back here!” he hissed, putting the dog back on a leash. “I’m sorry! Hey, I can buy you a coffee, if that’ll make up for her? I’m choosing the coffee shop though, there’s a little one nearby and there’re not too many people in it, the popular ones are a rip off anyway, wait— are you crying?” he panted out, staring directly at your face, with a deadpan look.

“It’s alright, I like dogs. But I like coffee, too”

You smiled upon remembering that afternoon, as the completely different sun shined on you two in that moment, not the exhausting, August-ish one, that makes you want to never leave the nearest pool, but a cool and refreshing February one. Two years passed, and the both of you weren’t just strangers in the park, you were one of these cheesy couples teenage girls look at and get upset because they think they’re never going to be like that with anyone. Although, the bonding dog stayed the same. 

Speaking of Lady, she ran up to Kiyoomi, who was lost in his thoughts and memories, proudly showing off a stick she must’ve found under the snow at some point. 

“Look what you got there!” he kneeled down, trying to get it away from her to throw it. “My good girl” he giggled. 

Some February afternoons could just last forever.

[metelis-favorite]

am i so bad? (that you hate me?)

Summary: Zane found himself at the outskirts of his family for most of his life. Maybe this time, they'd break away with him. Word count: 2796 Warnings: Transphobia, Islamophobia, misgendering, reference and results of past emotional abuse to children, discussion of weight in a negative tone Author’s Notes: This was not planned to be the first installment of the streamer au!! In fact, it has little to do with the fact that they are streamers at all.  This was written as a vent fic and turned into something a tad nicer than that.  Give me a comment or kudos on Ao3!

“Hey, mom.”  Zianna burst through the kitchen entrance as Zane closed the door behind him.

“Oh, Zuzu!” she exclaimed running over to wrap him in a hug, nearly lifting him off the ground.  He withheld the urge to wince and hesitantly wrapped his arms around his mother, patting her back awkwardly.  She set him back firmly on the ground but rocked them back and forth and something in Zane’s chest sunk as he felt something wet soaking into his sweater.  “Oh, Zuzu, you never visit anymore.” She pulled back, clutching his arms.  “Though it seems like you’ve been feeding yourself just fine!”  Zane smiled shakily, but he felt it coming out more of a grimace.

“You should see Garroth,” he tried to joke, “pretty sure being a father made him gain a few.”  Immediately Zianna’s face dropped into a disapproving pout and she tightened her grip on Zane’s arms.

“That is not funny, Zuzu,” she scolded. “Your brother is working as hard as he can for that little boy.”  Zane scowled.

“Malachi isn’t a boy, mother.”  Zianna elected to ignore him, giving his arms a punctuating (and painful) squeeze before letting go.  She walked back towards the kitchen and Zane felt five years old all over again, trailing after his mother in hopes she would pay attention to him. “So…” he started awkwardly, clearing his throat, “how’s dad doing? He’s at work today, right?” Zianna nodded excitedly, opening a packet of deli meat.

“Oh, yes! He and Garroth have been working on a brand-new acquisition for the company and it’s just taking up so much time.” She turned to smile at her son. “But you know how much your father loves his work.   It’s such a charming quality in a man to see him so dedicated.” A distant memory of a tenth birthday without his father flashed through his head.  He shoved it down.  He could bitch about it later to his therapist.

“Yeah, that’s- that’s cool.  Good for him.”  Zane leaned against the entrance to the kitchen. He waited for a second, the air between the two of them stale and tense.  Zianna kept smiling, placing pieces of ham into sandwiches. “What are you- uh, what are you making?”

“Oh! Well, you know Gar-Gar and his son are coming by as well, right? I’m making some sandwiches for him!” Zane winced, his lips curling into a scowl.

“Mother, Malachi isn’t a boy, we’ve been over this.” Zianna just waved him off.

“Oh, kids are kids, Zuzu, he doesn’t know anything yet.”  Zane’s shoulders hunched up and he subconsciously rubbed his sweater where he knew his top surgery scars lay underneath. Speaking of which, he needed to make a deposit to Vylad and Garroth’s accounts today.  It should be one of the last payments before he’s not in debt anymore.

“That’s not-” Zane started, his voice small. He shook his head and cut himself off.  It wasn’t worth it. “Malachi doesn’t eat ham, either, mom.” That made Zianna stop mid-second, a piece of ham in her hand.

“What do you mean?” Zane shrugged his shoulders.

“Malachi is Muslim, mom, Garroth told you about this.  They don’t eat pig meat.”  Zianna scoffed, but he could see the shake in her hands.

“Well, that’s just silly,” she said, her voice rising in pitch.  Zane swallowed nervously.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts.  “Why doesn’t he just follow Irene?”

“Uh- because they don’t have to?” Zane said.  “They’re not forced to follow whatever religion Garroth follows, mom, they were religious before they met Garroth.” Zianna shook her head rapidly before Zane even finished his sentence, closing her fist around the meat in her hand.

“No, but- Why wouldn’t Garroth have Malachi convert?” The question made Zane’s stomach flip a few times.  The spot where the cross on his chain necklace would have rested on his collarbone burned.

“Because he’s not an ass, mother,” Zane said, his voice taking on a sharper tone. “Malachi doesn’t have to do anything they don’t want to and Garroth certainly isn’t going to force his child to join a religion that they don’t believe in.”  Zianna made a noise and Zane could see her shoulders tensing. The room went quiet for a moment before Zianna opened her fist, letting the ham drop onto the counter.  She stalked over to the opposite side of the kitchen, ripping a trash bag from the container.  She walked back to the counter where the sandwiches and in one movement, she swept the sandwiches, chips, and packages of deli meat into the bag.  Zane flinched at the sound of the food hitting the bottom of the bag.

“Well, I guess I did all of that work for nothing!” She said, her voice squeaky and shaking with barely-contained anger. “Gratitude means nothing anymore, apparently.” Zane leaned forward onto the balls of his feet, ready to make it to the front door in less than five seconds if his mother decided to move his way. He didn’t say anything.

She tied up the bag, dropping into the garbage bin he knew was underneath the sink cabinet.  Zianna brushed her hands off and then propped them onto her hips.  Zane stayed silent.  She turned towards him, her breath shaky and her smile as false as the Louboutin heels he saw by the door. “Well, dear?” she prompted. “How’s work been?”

The change in topic made Zane’s head spin but he was pretty sure this was the only time she would ever ask him about his job and any chance to escape her fury was latched onto with both hands. “It’s- uh, it’s been good,” he said, his voice stumbling. “Subs have been going up at a pretty steady rate and if it- uh- keeps up for a few more months, I might be able to move into a better apartment.” Zianna nodded but he could tell she wasn’t absorbing anything he said. “Aph would move with me, I think.”  That caught her attention.  She squealed.

“Oh, you’re still dating Aphmau? Oh, that is so amazing!” Zianna giggled. “I can’t wait to be a mother-in-law.” Zane blinked a few times.

“You are a mother-in-law,” Zane reminded. “Garroth is married, you do know that, right?” Zianna’s smile seemed to turn cold and Zane beat himself up for even saying anything. “Besides!” he rushed to push past his mistake, “Aph and I aren’t dating or anything, she’s just a good roommate.” Zianna just shook her head, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“Oh, but I’m sure you’ll end up dating soon! That Aphmau has always had a thing for you, you know.” She winked dramatically and Zane wrinkled his nose on instinct.

“…Sure, mom,” he said at last, not willing to get into another argument with her.  Zianna wiggled in her space.

The sound of a car pulling into the gravel driveway broke the tense atmosphere that was starting to build up and Zane’s shoulders untensed.

Garroth and his relationship was difficult.  His relationship with Vylad was even more so.  But one good thing that came out of them both being adults and living away from their parents was the chance to finally say shit to each other and not have their parents constantly scolding them (read: Zane) for starting a fight.  There were nights were they just screamed at each other, mourning the childhoods they never got.  Zane better knew the pressure shoved onto Garroth and while a part of him would always feel like his brother was ungrateful for the opportunities he was given as a child, Zane didn’t know if he wouldn’t react in that same way in Garroth’s position.

In a similar vein, he finally got the apology he had been craving for so many years.  They were both on the ground, drunk out of their minds, and Garroth just erupted into sobs, saying that every day he woke up with guilt eating away at him.  That he knew what an awful brother he had been and that he was so sure that whatever relationship they might’ve had was crushed because of his arrogance.

Zane wasn’t faultless and he knew that their relationship as kids could’ve gone a lot smoother had he not gone out of his way to antagonize his family.  But the feeling of relief when his big brother arrived at their childhood home, instead of dread or jealously, wasn’t something he’d trade for anything.

Zianna bustled over to the door, pulling it open and waving to Garroth, who was assumedly getting out of his car and unbuckling Malachi.  Zane followed her, standing behind her with his hands still shoved firmly into his pockets.  He saw Malachi practically bounce out of the car, ignoring Garroth’s call to slow down as they ran up the steps to the door.  Zianna opened her arms and knelt down for a hug, but Malachi bolted past her to attach themself to Zane’s legs.  “Hi, Uncle Zane!” they exclaimed.  Zane blinked a few times, before patting his nibling gently on the head. They cocked their head to the side. “Is it a no-touch day? Dad says sometimes you have no-touch days.”  Zianna moved to open her mouth, having risen from her knees, but Zane cut her off.

“It’s alright, kid,” he said gruffly, resisting the urge to smile as Malachi tightened their grip around his knees. “You want- You want up?” Immediately, Malachi’s face nearly split in half from the grin they bore and they unlocked their hands to reach up towards Zane’s face, making a grabby motion.  Zane bent down slightly, grabbing the kid underneath the armpits and lifting.  A muscle in his back twinged, but he shifted his weight onto his legs and pulled himself and Malachi up the rest of the way.  The eight-year-old wrapped their arms around Zane’s neck, resting their head on his shoulder, and Zane swallowed harshly, trying to keep down tears from welling in his eyes.  Zianna was practically glaring at them but she didn’t say anything as Garroth stepped into the home.

“Dad!” Malachi exclaimed, lifting their head up. “Hi!” Garroth laughed, reaching a hand out and Malachi reached their hand in return, giving each other a gentle squeeze.

“I just saw you, bud,” Garroth said, grinning. Malachi shrugged, tucking their head back under Zane’s chin.

“I know,” they said cheekily.

“Did you say hi to Ms. Zianna yet?” Garroth asked and Zane wrinkled his nose.  His brother shot him a ‘I know what you’re thinking and I’m thinking the same thing but I have to be a good influence on my kid’ look over Malachi’s shaking head.  “Can you say hello please?”

Malachi looked over to Zianna and she waved softly. “Hey, sweetie!”

“Hi,” they mumbled, shoving their face into Zane’s hoodie.  Zianna’s face dropped into a disapproving scowl, but Garroth stepped in, his nerves showing all over his face.

“I think Malachi is just a bit shy today,” he said, his voice bordering on shaking. “They’ve had a long day.”  Zianna harrumphed slightly, crossing her arms, and if Zane weren’t focused on not pissing off his mother and not dropping his nibling, he might’ve laughed at his six-foot-three brother cowering in front of his five-foot-four mother.

He thought of his own five-foot-eleven height and the scene of him hunched over while his mother threw the sandwiches away and dismissed the thought of laughing entirely.  Malachi tightened their grip around his neck and he adjusted his grip so that they were pressed closer to his chest. “I see Malachi plenty,” Zianna complained. “Why won’t he give me a hug?!” Malachi made a noise and Garroth looked pained.

“Mother,” his brother said gently, “we’ve been over this.”  Zianna shook her head.

“Honey, I’m the mother to one of those kinds of people, I know how this works.”  Zane inhaled sharply.  Garroth gave a full body wince.

“Can we not have this conversation in front of them, please?” Garroth pleaded, his voice small.  Zane maneuvered Malachi to one side, slipping his hand into his basketball shorts to pull out his phone.   His mother shot back something, but he was too busy sending off a text to Laurance.

 2:58 P.M.

Outlawed in-law: SOS.  Mom’s saying shit.

Gar’s boytoy: :thumbsup:

  Judging from the kid trying to – affectionately – choke him, it wasn’t good.  Looking at Garroth, who was looking at their mother like he wanted to cry, Zane made the executive decision to back away and make his way to the stairs leading up to his old room. “Wher’we goin’? Malachi said, their voice muffled by their face being mushed into his hoodie.

“We,” Zane said, hefting the child further up his hip, “are gonna go check out your dad’s old room.” Malachi perked up, lifting their head.

“Daddy lived here?” Zane nodded.

“So did me and Vylad.”

“Avie Vylad?” Zane nodded again, stepping up the last stair and walking towards the back of the hall.

“The very same.”  Zane stopped in front of a door still decorated in medals and stickers of achievement.  He expected to feel some sting at the blatant representation of everything younger Zane resented but he found nothing there.  Blinking slightly, he reached out for the knob and pushed the door open.

The walls were bare – Garroth had taken down most of his posters when he moved out for college – but his old bedspread and desk were still there.  “Is this where daddy grew up?”

“Yep.”

“Where were you?”

“I was the room to the left.”

“With all the black stickers with bad words?” Zane snorted.

“Yep.” Malachi wiggled, unlatching their hands from behind Zane’s neck.  He bent over slightly, letting Malachi slip from his arms and land on the floor. “Your dad and I had some pretty different ideas on what constituted good décor.” Malachi peeked into the closet while Zane sat on the bed.

“Oh, woahh, there are some boxes in here!” they said excitedly.

“Yeah, your dad left some stuff here when he moved out.  I think he’s forgotten about it to be honest.” Malachi turned around, giving Zane a quizzical look.

“How could he forget his stuff?”  Zane shrugged.

“We had a lot of stuff as kids.”  Malachi looked down at the ground, their tiny brow furrowed.  They grabbed at the green scarf-slash-shawl wrapped around their shoulders.

“I have a lot of stuff now,” they said after a few moments. “I guess that makes sense.”  Zane scooted back on the bed, so his back could rest against the wall.  “Were you n’ dad friends?” Zane furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard papa saying something once about you n’ dad not being friends but you guys seem like friends so I wanted to ask.”  Zane blinked a few times, not sure how to respond.  Two decades of pain and anger and betrayal seemed to flash before his eyes and he wasn’t quite sure how to explain that to his eight-year-old nibling.

“I guess…” he started, “I guess you could say we weren’t friends when we were your age.” Malachi frowned and moved over to the bed to sit next to Zane.

“But are you guys friends now?”  Zane moved to rest his hand on Malachi’s head.

“I think we are, yeah.  We did some mean shi- stuff to each other when we were kids because we were angry at other people and took it out on each other.  But we’ve talked about it now.  We’ve said sorry.”  Zane patted Malachi once before resting his hand in his lap. “If you wanna know more, you should ask your dad.  Not all of this story is mine to tell.”  Malachi got a confused look on their face, but something must’ve clicked because their expression relaxed.

A knock sounded from the door.  Both Malachi and Zane looked up to find Garroth there, a soft smile on his face.  Zane squinted and saw the tired look in his eyes, the dark eye bags of nightmares that Zane saw mirrored on his own face near constantly seemed to have been amplified by whatever conversation he had with their mother.

“Papa called, bud, we gotta head back to the house.”  Malachi pouted, crossing their arms.

“I don’t wanna go,” they whined. “I wanna stay with Uncle Zane.” It took a second for Zane to process the statement, but before he could start sputtering nervously, Garroth just laughed.

“Uncle Zane can come with us, if he wants.” Zane gave Garroth a look and his brother shrugged good-naturedly.  Malachi wiggled and looked up Zane excitedly.

“Please?” they said and Zane was surprised by the earnestness in their voice.

“Sure,” he said, surprised once again by the fact that he actually did want to go with them, “I’ll come with.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 29

First

Previous

Next

Chat was still reeling from the bombshell that was ‘everyone apparently knows about his family life’ when Master Fu had told them that he probably knew Hawkmoth… and then, because apparently the universe wasn’t done with him, Master Fu had told them that he had personally chosen Hawkmoth.

Master Fu sighed as he looked over all their faces and then motioned for them to sit down. They did so without question or complaint, though it was mostly because everyone was in shock and on autopilot.

He leaned heavily against his cane.

“You all know the way the story started. About thirty years ago, a woman calling herself Paon started terrorizing Paris with what she called Sentimonsters using the peacock miraculous.”

Of course they knew the story. They had only been alive for a little more than half of it, but that didn’t mean they didn’t remember the giant Sentimonsters wreaking havoc every day. Those kinds of memories stick with you.

“To counter her, a man called Pieris, with powers that varied by the battle, rose to counteract her.”

They all nodded. They were beginning to piece together who Hawkmoth was, they weren’t stupid, but… one thing didn’t make sense:

“But Pieris would have been an akuma, not Hawkmoth,” said Rena, frowning.

“Who says Hawkmoth can’t akumatize himself?” Said Master Fu quietly. He sighed again, looking even older than usual. “Anyways, you all know that it took about twenty years for him to defeat her.”

They all nodded again. Chat hadn’t been allowed out, but he remembered all of the parties and celebrations when it had been announced that Paon’s reign of terror was over.

(Not that he’d wanted to be let out at the time. His mother had just died, going out and having fun had felt wrong. How could he be happy when his mother would never be able to do so again?)

“But… it turned out that the man that I had chosen to be Pieris was Paon’s husband. When he found out what he had done to his wife, he was overcome with grief. His miraculous corrupted him.”

Beside him, Rena clenched her fists. “So… did you choose Paon, too? Is this just our fate? One day we’ll just go evil and there’s nothing --?”

“No,” Master Fu cut her off. “Paon… it was passed through her family. Sometimes the person would use it for good, other times bad, but no matter what they passed it on once the eldest child became an adult.”

Rena relaxed, but only slightly.

Chat couldn’t find it in himself to do the same.

He turned and buried his face in Rena’s shoulder, unsure what to do. There was no way...

Right?

Chat bit his lip.

His parents had always been very busy and a little bit distant, though he had just attributed that to their jobs. Then there was the fact that his mother’s death coincided with the day that Paon had last been seen. When Paon and Pieris had disappeared his father had been more present, and when Hawkmoth had appeared his father had suddenly had a heavy workload again...

But that could be explained away, he thought. The death could be an unlucky coincidence, and who wants to do extra work when their wife has just died? And then who’s to say that his father couldn’t get back into work again by the time Hawkmoth had appeared? No, that could make sense.

His father HAD been really interested in his ring, though --.

No.

Gabriel Agreste COULDN’T be Hawkmoth. Chat didn’t have any proof of it, but he knew it to be true. Sure, the man was distant, but that didn’t mean he was evil. After all, Chat still had memories of his father sitting him on his lap and letting him color a design he’d made. He could still remember all the times his father had shifted aside in bed so he could cuddle after a nightmare. How could a man like that be evil?

How could a man like that knowingly endanger his son every day?

No. There were other people.

Sure, there were only a few people he could consider himself close to, but that didn’t mean he never talked to anyone outside of his family, servants, Kagami, and Chloe. As an Agreste, he’d attended many different balls and galas and even business meetings to represent his family, he was acquainted with plenty other rich people.

Yeah. There were other options. He was just jumping to conclusions because of the Traitor Scare a few days beforehand. Yeah. It was someone else. It had to be.

~

Rena had been the one to escort Master Fu home. Maybe it was to question him further, they didn’t know. They were all pretty sure they didn’t want to ask, though, because she came home looking even more dejected than before.

When she got back she took a seat on the table. Chat had perched himself in the window. Chloe had laid across the couch, legs in Ladybug’s lap. Carapace had slung himself across the armchair.

Despite the disparity in their positions, however, all their faces had the same contemplative look.

Rena was the first one to speak: “Fuck that guy, am I right?”

Ladybug laughed a little, though it sounded forced. “Yeah. All I’m getting is that the bitch didn’t use to have child heroes.”

There was a beat, and then Carapace sat up suddenly. “Wait a minute, you’re right! Pieris was an adult!”

“It’s probably because kids are easier to manipulate,” said Chloe quietly. All eyes fell on her. “Think about it. Chat, Ladybug, and Carapace never really defend themselves -- Carapace defends other people, sure, but he wasn’t close enough to any of us to bother before. Rena and I both started out practically worshiping at least one of you guys. For one reason or another, we were all pretty easy to manage.”

The silence that followed the statement was deafening.

The longer they stewed in it the angrier they got and the luckier they were that Hawkmoth had already used up his akumitization of the day.

“Can’t believe that he did this to stop me from retiring -- actually, no, I can believe it,” muttered Carapace. “I shouldn’t have told him I was thinking about leaving for college. Should’ve just applied, made a public statement, and then dropped the bracelet on his doorstep… damn him...”

Rena laughed bitterly. “‘Damn him’ is right. Really, though, I should’ve known he was fucked from the start. Who the hell goes up to someone and says ‘I have been looking for a person like you for a while now’?”

“You punched him, right?” Said Chloe with a frown.

“Obviously. I punched him and ran. Went the wrong way, though, and ended up cornered in an alley.”

“You definitely should’ve been wary of him after that one,” agreed Ladybug. “If he had done that to me I wouldn’t have trusted anything he tried to put on my neck even if I saw a God coming out of it... maybe I would’ve trusted him less if that happened, actually.”

“Things have gone downhill since I was recruited, apparently.” Chat said with a weak grin, and Ladybug nodded her agreement. “I had to save him from getting run over. Which was stupid, might I add. What if I hadn’t looked up in time? Did he have a backup plan or was he just going to let himself get hit if I didn’t notice?”

“Wait, go back. You had to save him from a car?” Said Chloe. “I had to pick up his cane for him! Where was my super cool trial?”

“I think I can answer both of you guys’ questions…”

Everyone looked at Carapace, but he was determinedly looking at his phone.

“Well, for one, no, he did not have a backup plan.”

Rena’s hand flew to her mouth. “You let him get hit?!”

Carapace winced. “Okay, wait, hold up. I did not ‘let him get hit’. I just… didn’t notice that he was in danger until he was hit, there’s a difference.”

Ladybug and Chat looked at each other and their eyes widened as they realized something at the same time.

“Oh my kwami, are you the reason he has to use a cane?”

He didn’t seem to hear this, apparently very interested in something on his phone.

“Are you the reason he has to use a cane?” Chat repeated.

Still nothing.

“Carapace… Carapace… please tell me you’re not the reason,” said Ladybug. Her voice wobbled with either laughter or tears, Chat wasn’t sure.

Apparently their friend had gone deaf without them noticing.

Chloe’s eyes were alight with what was definitely laughter. “Your first day was even worse than mine!”

“PLEASE,” said the no longer deaf Carapace. He briefly set his phone down to count off on his fingers: “Let’s see… revealed your identity, covered half the city with honey, nearly crashed a train, got akumatized --.”

He never got to finish, because Chloe had thrown herself at him and started trying to smother him with a pillow.

“That’s a throw pillow, Chlo, you’re supposed to throw them,” supplied Rena.

He tried to yell something through the pillow, probably ‘traitor’, but it sounded like “Huhu!”

Chat smiled and walked over to Carapace’s fallen phone and started recording.

~

There was no context for the video that showed up on Carapace’s account that night.

All the people of Paris got was a video of Chloe and Carapace rolling around on the floor, laughing as they took part in what was essentially a pillow fight at that point.

Rena was in the background. She was goading them on, yelling encouragement for whoever she wanted and switching sides at the drop of a hat.

Ladybug was also there, her lips pressed together thinly in an attempt to hide a smile as she made eye contact with the camera and gave an eyeroll.

Chat’s laughter, which had been a soft but constant sound throughout the video, picked up briefly at the eyeroll.

The video cut.

~

Despite his exhaustion, he hadn’t been able to sleep. So, at four in the morning, he shuffled downstairs with a blanket wrapped around himself.

He started towards the kitchen for something to eat, only to stop cold when he heard a quiet scraping sound from inside.

The lights were still off in the kitchen… and everyone should have been asleep or out on patrols...

Many thoughts ran through his head. Hawkmoth could be back. Robbers could be in the house.

He pulled out his phone and transformed. If it was people robbing the place he’d need proof for the police, and if it was Hawkmoth Rena would kill him if he didn’t get a picture (if Hawkmoth didn’t kill him first, of course).

He started recording and then walked to the door, flicking the light on.

Ladybug was sitting on the counter in a Totoro onesie, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot.

He relaxed and let his phone arm fall limply to his side. “Oh, it’s just you.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was hungry.”

“I can see that.” He realized something as she pulled more food to her mouth and he squinted just to make sure. “Is that… is that brown?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Put coffee in it.”

He was tempted to try and clean out his ears, because there was no way she should have been able to say that so nonchalantly.

“WHY?!”

“Wanted to see if it tasted better.”

He stared at her, trying to gauge if she was messing with him… and then, because he simply had to know, he asked: “And… and does it?”

She looked down at the abomination she had created sadly.

“No.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

[fatefulfaerie]

Guilt

Fic-art trade with @rebuildingkonohaonceagain !! You sent two pictures so here is 2,000 words. I hope you like it!

Trigger Warning: mention of death

The whirring of guardians always made Zelda feel at ease, the way their inner-workings clicked, the way their mechanisms whistled. It was something Zelda felt she understood, and something that gave her great hope in their prospects of victory.

Her pride in the prowess of ancient Sheikah technology could be seen in the way she looked at them now, smiling at their apparent perfection. 

The blush on her cheeks, however, came from the knowledge of who was standing behind her, pensive in his duty and yet ever-vigilant of danger. He saw no danger in these skulltula-like machines, and thus allowed Zelda to run excitedly to peer at them with no word of caution passing his lips. Zelda loved looking down from the bridge of her study and seeing the Sheikah’s progress with the Guardians. Although she often felt Hyrule doomed with her sealing power still locked deep inside her, her hope returned when she saw the Guardians or the Divine Beasts.

“Amazing,” she remarked. “We’re at a point now where we can actually control them.”

Zelda turned around to face Link with a smile.

“At this rate, we’ll be well-positioned to defend ourselves, should Calamity Ganon return.”

Link’s expression moved slightly out of its neutrality, betraying Zelda’s expectations of her knight, and yet she welcomed the tease of emotion with open ears.

“Are you sure about that?” Link asked.

Zelda felt something grip her heart, like the cold hand of an Icy Moblin.

“Of…of course I’m sure,” Zelda said. “What…”

“I mean who are you kidding?” Link asked rhetorically, with an edge to his voice Zelda had never heard before. “We all know we’re missing a pretty big piece of the puzzle. Everything else is in line except you. Do you not care about the kingdom?”

Zelda���s eyes stung with betrayal and the cold hand seem to pull her heart down, farther and farther into unknown caverns below the castle.

“Of course I care, Link, what…” Zelda said trying to find her breath. She backed away in fear, her hand meeting the cement ridges of the bridge. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’ve trained all my life,” Link continued, his brow furrowing in his rising anger, “tired myself to constantly better for Hyrule to what? Serve a Princess who sees the Calamity as a joke? Who frolics around and pretends to pray to goddess statues? It’s time to wake up, Your Highness. Own up to your failures and we might even get out of this alive.”

“Link, I…” Zelda said, shaking her head. “You know better than anyone how hard I…”

The ground suddenly shook violently beneath them, Zelda looking down with wide, green eyes to see the bridge under her feet crack.

“Come on,” she heard Link say as he grabbed her hand and started to run towards the innards of the castle, towards perhaps more stable ground.

Yet the floor buckled beneath him at his next step, Link slipping off the bridge, hanging by the hand that connected him to Zelda’s.

They both looked down to what Link was hanging over and Zelda didn’t quite understand what she saw.

It was a large hole, with Calamity Ganon swirling in his own malice like a fish in a small pond of blood.

Link looked back at Zelda, whose gaze was panicked as she started to lose her grip on Link’s hand. She gritted her teeth trying to get a better hold, but it was no use.

Link’s gaze, in contrast, was rather settled for someone whose life was in danger, as if he weren’t surprised in the slightest.

“This is your fault,” he said before Zelda accidentally lost her grip.

“No!” Zelda exclaimed, reaching down with tears in her eyes as Link fell, lost to the darkness of the calamity.

Zelda stood up quickly onto what remained of the bridge, Calamity Ganon’s burning yellow eyes and pig-like snout rising to face her, it’s wispy red and black emanations trailing behind him.

Zelda, with panting, heavy breaths and cheeks endlessly replenished with her tears, held out her hand palm-first towards Calamity Ganon, wishing with all her might that luck would grant her the sealing power she sought, if not the endless years of prayers to cold and unyielding goddess statues.

Yet no power came, even on repeat attempts extending her arm.

Calamity Ganon gave a growling chuckle, smiling insidiously at such a failure.

“Finally,” he said in his groveling voice before surging forward with an open mouth. Zelda crouched in defense, her last resort before darkness succumbed her as well.

She didn’t know where she was falling from or to, nor how long she had been falling or long she had until she met the ground. She had no idea how she was changed from her royal blue dress to her white prayer dress, or what to do about it as the wind whipped through her long, blonde hair, almost tugging at it.

She felt almost dead, like she could fall, float, drift, drop for a hundred years until time became eternity.

She felt herself torn apart, like the Ritos, who pluck the feathers off their deceased before offering the body to the goddess Hylia.

She felt herself chocking on rocks and dirt, like the Gorons, who bury their deceased in the rich grounds of Death Mountain.

She felt herself rocked by unforgiving waves, like the Zora, who dispatch their deceased on a small boat lined with violets.

She felt herself dissipate, like the Gerudo, who burn their deceased to ashes and make them one with the sands.

“Zelda,” She heard a voice echo, surprised she could hear it, surprised someone could still know her, remember her.

“Zelda!” She heard again, louder.

“Zelda!!”

Zelda jolted awake to Link shaking her, Zelda grasping her hands on his arms as she gasped for air.

Her green eyes were absolutely panicked, looking everywhere but at Link, her head twitching like a shaking leaf.

“Zelda,” Link insisted. “Zelda, look at me!”

Link placed his warm hands on either of her cheeks, suddenly aligning her gaze with his with a soft gasp. Her shaky breathing calmed as her eyes filled with recognition, as her ears heard the cracking of a nearby campfire, as her skin felt a blanket fall from her shoulder to her lap.

As soon as Zelda distinguished the line between nightmare and reality, she hurriedly embraced Link, diving her head into the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay,” Link said, clutching the back of her head, her blonde hair entangled in his calloused and yet gentle fingers. “You’re okay.”

He held her and he rocked her as she cried into his tunic, whispering over and over into her ear soothing words that assured her safety, and his safety, and their safety, and their victory, their final long-awaited victory after a hundred years of insurmountable loss.

Link ended up leaning against a nearby tree as he held her in his arms, neither caring at all that their proximity would once, a long time ago, have been scandalous. Their titles were something they were glad to throw away.

Zelda drew circles on Link’s chest as he stared at the campfire, his head leaning on hers.

“Was it like your nightmare last night?” He finally asked, after probably hours of Zelda being awake. Zelda had observed that Link was good at knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

Zelda nodded against his shoulder, her green eyes sad and frankly haunted, despondent as she lamented her nightmare.

“How do you feel now?” Link asked, looking down at her with a soft, blue gaze.

“Better,” Zelda answered quietly, as if she could barely manage to find her voice. “Safer.”

Link kissed the top of her head before leaning his own head on it again.

“Good,” he said.

A distant cicada started to chirp, Zelda immediately sitting up, ears penned and alerted.

“It’s okay,” Link said as he softly rubbed her arm with the backs of his fingers. “It’s just a bug.”

Zelda’s shoulder deflated from their tense state as she took a calm exhale. She nodded and yet didn’t return back into Link’s hold.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said.

Link’s gaze moved downward.

“I suspected you might say that,” Link said. “The good thing is that Dorephan doesn’t know we’re coming, and neither does Sidon, turning back is an option. We can always visit Zora’s Domain later.”

The fire crackled as Zelda considered Link’s words, and yet her mind veered off in another direction.

“Do you feel as I do?” Zelda said, turning her head to her shoulder. “This…guilt?”

Link nodded, sitting up.

“I do,” Link responded. “But then I remember what we were able to do because we survived.” 

Zelda turned around to face Link, who was distracted by her beauty in the light of the fire until he saw in deep pain in her green eyes.

“Do you ever think I should have died instead of them?” Zelda asked. “Do you think it’s what I deserve? For failing them?”

“No,” Link said with sunken blue eyes and a shaking head. “No. Zelda, we all did the best we could. You know better than anyone how hard it was to unlock your sealing power. Everything was in place. We just ran out of time.”

“So…” Zelda started. “You don’t…blame me?”

“Of course not,” Link answered. “Why would I blame you?”

Zelda lowered her gaze.

“I’ve ran through it all a hundred different ways in my head, over a hundred years and, the loss is always my fault. A hundred different ways it could have gone, a hundred things I could have done different and…it’s always me.”

Zelda looked up at Link, who was shaking his head. He even graced a small smile.

“See, that’s where you are wrong.”

“Am I?”

Link chuckled, bowing his head before he raised it again.

“Who possessed the Guardians?” Link asked. “Was it you?”

“No,” Zelda said matter-of-factly. “That was Calamity Ganon.”

“And the Divine Beasts? Who possessed those?”

“Calamity Ganon,” Zelda answered, not sure what the trick was, what sort of test this was.

“Who came completely unannounced from beneath the castle and started attacking Hyrule by summoning all sorts of monsters?”

“Calamity Ganon,” Zelda answered again. “Link, what are you even getting at? Of course he--”

“Oh,” Zelda, realizing what Link was doing.

“Who saved my life by awakening her sealing power?”

Zelda sighed.

“Me.”

“And who, may I ask kept Calamity Ganon trapped inside the castle for hundreds of years, thus allowing Hyrule to flourish and grow because they were protected.”

Zelda was starting to blush.

“Me, again.” She said.

“And who finally sealed him away once and for all, bringing Hyrule to peace?”

Zelda rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Me.”

“Nope,” Link said jokingly.  “That was all me.”

Zelda scoffed and hit him playfully, them both giggling and laughing.

“All right, I get your point,” she said with a smile. “How do you always know what to say?

Link shrugged.

“Maybe it’s part of being the chosen hero,” Link said, Zelda glaring at him in disbelief with a tipped head. “Hey, you never know.”

Zelda laughed and her heart felt full as she looked into Link’s eyes, that were just as joyful and warm as hers.

They both smiled at the unspoken invitation between them before mutually leaning into each other, meeting their lips in an indulgent kiss that expressed their love.

Link cupped Zelda’s cheeks as they rescinded with a smile borne straight from pure happiness, admiring her for a lingering second before he spoke.

“It’s your choice,” Link said. “Whether we continue our journey to Zora’s Domain. It doesn’t make you weak to wait until you are ready.”

“I know,” Zelda replied, placing her hand where Link’s was on his cheek. “But I’ll have to face Mipha’s father and brother eventually. I would have trepidations no matter what…I think I just need to work through this.”

“Then I’ll do anything I can to help you.”

[hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little]

Voicemail

Hawks X Reader

Summary: Commitment is sometimes scary, especially when Keigo already has so much on his plate. So instead of communicating that to his lover, he grows distant.

-part 1-

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

—————————————————-

One moment Keigo was flying through cloud nine and the next he was falling faster than ever.

(Y/n) was the first one to break his walls. See the broken man through the believable facade portrayed by the media. She loved him, the real him, not the picture perfect model on the tv young boys and girls dream about and idolize. All his flaws and scars never repealed her for even a moment, she loved him unconditionally. She was the first to do so, the first to show him that he didn’t have to be perfect.

Keigo remembers when she shattered those barriers. Oh, how he cried. It was only a week until their one year anniversary. But, this was the first time (y/n) had seen him all battered and beaten from a fight earlier. No feathers on his back, nasty gashes on his face and arms, Hawks might as well have been fresh out of a human sized shredder. Really, he should have gone to the hospital, but he figured he could just handle the damage himself. He remembers being frozen in place when his eyes landed on her after just walking into their shared apartment. She should have been asleep already, yet there she was standing in the dim lighted hallway with the worry shining in those doe eyes of hers. Her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were red as if she had been crying moments ago. Quickly, she scurried over to him scanning over his torn form. From there gently but quickly guided him to the bathroom where they kept the medical supplies.

He was sitting on a stool near the bathroom sink as (y/n) sat right next to him with her legs folded on the floor. The silence was deafening, no questions were asked. Hawks quietly watched her shaking hands delicately wrap one of the bandages around his wounded arm. Making sure the fabric was not to tight, but not too lose that it would come undone. Sighing, he reached the hand she previously wrapped and cupped her cheek, rubbing his ever so gently under her eye, causing her to stop her actions and place her hand upon his own, closings her eyes. She lowered her head as her shoulders started shaking ever so slightly with every sniffle and hiccup that came from her. Hawks used his other hand guide her face towards his wiping away freshly dropping tear that cascaded down her puffy red cheeks. It was only a couple for minutes before she broke the silence.

“I saw it on the news,” Her bottoms lip quivered more as she spoke.

“What did you see, my love?”

“Them hurt you,” She sobbed “It was all over the news, you were- you were thrown through the building and pummbled into the ground, the- then the power shut off and I did know if- I didn’t know-”

The poor thing couldn’t even finish the sentence, she was now curled over her knees sobbing into her hands in attempt to muffle her cries. Hawks was in shock, he knew she cared and worried for him, but apparently underestimated the extent at which it went. Never in his life has someone genuinely cried on his behalf, not even his so-called parents. This was the moment he broke down. This was the moment he knew she truly loved him and he truly loved her.

Shifting so that Keigo was now on the ground with her, he pulled her to his lap, rocking them both from side to side, as he burying his face in her hair. In this moment both of their hearts beat for each other and nothing could change that. He hadn’t even realized his own tears that were falling until she pulled back just alittle to stare into his eyes and wipe them away. There was nothing but love and care in those glazed over her eyes.

Hawks remembers sitting on the tile of the bathroom floor the rest of the night in eachothers embrace. No one in the rest of the world mattered, it was only them, both vulnerable to each other’s love.

She meant so much to him, she was like the feathers on his back, freeing and always there to lift him up. Everyone at the agency loved her, she was motherly to the interns and alway there to vent if someone needed to talk. She was a true blessing to all those around her. Time went on and there love only grew stronger.

Lately something had seemed off with Keigo, he was acting cold and distant, and not even he could pinpoint why. Maybe it was the stress of all the hero work piling up. Being the number Two Hero came with a lot of responsibility and a lot more work which he had to keep on top of. Keigo had been staying at the office later doing paperwork into the early hours of the morning for the past three days. And when he did return home (y/n) was always draped over the arm of the couch in her night time attire asleep. It was obvious that she was trying to wait up for him, but always seemed to fail. Shaking his head with a small smile at her silliness, he picked her up and brought her to bed. It wasn’t long before he joined her, but Hawks was always gone before she would wake up.

She would leave him encouraging texts and voicemails throughout the day, to which he never replied to. It seemed like they hadn’t even really had a real conversation in a couple of months. Every time she would try and reach out to her, he’d blow her off, avoiding any sort of confrontation. Keigo already has so much going through his head with all this league of villains stuff, the last thing he needs is another person giving him problems.

Today marked the 3 year anniversary of their relationship. It was a quiet day at the agency, so (y/n) came to visit. Of course a bunch of the women pulled her into the break area to gossip. They were all talking and giggling when he was walking by. Hawks stopped to listen at the door when one giggling in particular reached his ears making him smile. The ladies wanted juicy details about Hawks and his lover’s relationship. He couldn’t stop the smile creeping up his face hearing her stutter out haste responses obviously embarrassed by their questions.

A couple more questions were thrown around and he put his hand on the door getting ready to barge in and save his poor baby like the hero he was. Hawks was half way through the door when one of the ladies asked about marriage making him halt. All eyes were on him, but his eyes were on (y/n)’s as his smile slowly fell. He shifted his gaze to the ground as he backed out the door, the sound of a chair being pulled back followed by the hurried steps of his lover close behind him. Her hand reached out and grasped the hand in an attempt to make him stop, which was successful and he turned to look at her, his face void of emotion.

“They were only joking, you know,” She said, hoping to lighten the mood, but there was some sort of panic or desperation hidden in her voice, Hawks could hear it.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at her with a straight face. By the grace of whatever higher ups there were, his work phone went off signaling an emergency.

She squeezed his hand “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but know that I love you and I will listen if there anything you want to talk about when you come back, we can skip our dinner reservations and just chill at home if you want.”

“I can’t talk about this right now, ill see you at home,” He muttered, ripping his hand from her hold.

Keigo turned around, walking away from her, but not miss the shocked and pained look that spread over her face. As he walked towards his office, the employee’s mouths hung open in shock. With shame and guilt beginning to set in, Keigo quickened his pace to his destination, slamming the door behind him as he arrived. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as his hands tugged at the untamed locks on his head. Pulling himself together, Keigo grabbed his gear and headed to the destination at which he was needed.

The mission was a breeze, but he didn’t return to the office, instead he opted to clear his mind soaring through the night time clouds. He flew out of the city bounds and landed on a tree that stood miles away, facing the glowing outline of the city. Hawks sat on one of the sturdier branches leaning against the thick core it sprouted from and closing his heavy eyes.

What was his issue? What had changed to make him act so harsh? God, (y/n) probably hates him now. Can’t say he would blame her though, he’s been nothing but a jerk to her these past couple of days. Damn, he was such an asshole at the office. Ignoring her, snapping at her, pushing her away when she had done nothing wrong.

But that’s not what she thought. These past days all she could do was pick her own mind over and over again. This has been going on for an entire month, nothing has been resolved, it only seems to be getting worse. She tried staying up and waiting till he got home to talk to him, but he was always home so late. (Y/n) tried calling, but that never got anywhere. It was alway go straight to voicemail. The same old:

“Heyyyyy, sorry I can’t answer at this moment. If its urgent or you have chicken that you can eat/ just want to give me chicken call my bussiness number at (***)***-****. Talk to ya later.”

She would alway leave a sweet and encouraging voicemail, sometime she would ask when he would be home, or if he maybe wanted to meet her for food or something.

So now here she sits at 1am, holding the tiny wrapped box she was going to give him for their anniversary while tears streamed down her face. Stuffed inside is a pregnancy test, they always joked about kids before this issue started. She found out about two weeks ago, deciding to wait to give it to him today, or yesterday, since she could never really get a hold of him lately.

She can’t do this much longer though, it was really starting to get to her, maybe it was the hormones talking, but it hurts nonetheless. No matter how she twisted it in her head she couldn’t understand where they went wrong. Setting the present on the counter, she walked to their shared bed room so she could grab a couple of necessities for the night. As of right now she was planning on crashing at a friends house who was already informed of (y/n)’s current predicament. Rumi Usagiyama always knew how to cheer her up.

After stuffing the duffle bag, (y/n) wrote a little note and left it at the edge of the night stand before grabbing the car keys and heading out the door. Making sure to turn off all the lights and lock the door on her way.

Unfortunately, in her rush she left the small box neatly wrapped bright colors and a golden bow resting forgotten on the counter.

It was hours till Keigo finally got the courage to head home to her for the night, or morning, as it was past 1 am. It felt cold inside, it felt empty. Keigo didn’t like it. Normally (y/n) kept the kitchen light on as she would always try and wait up for him when he came home.

The further he walked in the more he panicked, (y/n) wasn't passed out on the couch. Uneasiness settled deep in his gut as he started searching the apartment in a frenzy. Heading towards their bedroom, he froze at the door frame seeing, it was empty, she wasn’t there.

He started yelling out her name, desperate for some sort of response while he searched every room. Keigo checked his phone, nothing. He called her, no response. Maybe, she was somewhere outside. Yeah, (y/n) loved going on early morning walks.

While rushing back towards the front door, a shiny gold sparkle caught his eye. It stood out of place in the dark kitchen. The glittery glow illuminated from golden ribbons wrapped around a package all connecting to form a bow on the top.

Cautiously walking over to the counter he picked it up, immediately eyeing a tag that had flopped to the side. Two fingers grasped it, flipping it from one side to the other. On the opposite side was written ‘To: Keigo’ in the beautiful handwriting that could only belong to (y/n).

His heart sunk as guilt started eating away at him. Pulling the ends of the ribbons, he slowly unwrapped it, taking the lid off the small box. At first he was confused, inside was just a bunch of tissue paper and some kinda plastic stick. When Keigo saw the 2 bright red stripes going down one side, it clicked. It was a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

Keigo’s mind went blank as the world around him froze. Tears started racing down his now damp cheeks. God what has he done. After placing the stick back in the box and then shoving it in his coat pocket Keigo bolted to the closest window, phone in hand attempting to call her phone.

All calls went to voicemail. There was no sign of her anywhere. Keigo could feel his wings shake in panic and desperation. Two hours had gone by and there was nothing.

Where was his (y/n), where was his angel? The woman who put up with all his shit throughout the years. The woman who loved him unconditionally, even when she saw how truly broken of a man he was. The woman who worried for him, cared for him, healed him, knew him. The real him. The woman who was carrying their baby, the woman- the one he pushed away. The one who he ignored and made cry. The one he hurt.

He needed to find her, try to mend all his mistakes. Hell, beg on his knees for her to forgive him. Ask how he could make it up to her. Let him show her that he can be a better man for not only her, but their baby. Oh, god they were going to have a baby. Just the thought of the little chick, made his heart cry out of joy and love.

There was so much he had to say to her. So much time he wanted to make up for. He wanted, no, needed to hold her, encase her and their little chick away from the world in a cocoon of red feathers. But, first he had to find them.

Landing on the barren street he began searching on foot, choosing to call up a few other heros in hope that they had either seen her or would help search for her. No one had seen her, not even Rumi, her best friend, had heard from or seen her the whole day. The few heros that were awake in the early morning, including Endeavor and of course Rumi, went out to start looking for her.

Another hour went by and there was no news, at this point Rumi was using her phone to try and call her. As Rumi was calling, Keigo faintly heard the familiar tone of (y/n) ringtone.

It was faint, but if he followed its sound, it kept getting louder and louder, and almost seemed to be more distorted from its original sweet tone. He followed it right to the entrance of an alley. The ringing stopped signalling the reject of the call. Leading into the dark shadowy ally was a smeared red looking substance that glistened in the moonlight.

Rumi caught up to him, eyes following his gaze to the ground. She watched as her friend shakingly pulled his own phone from his pocket, calling (y/n). A lump formed in her throat as the ringtone of her best friend went off a couple feet before them as a light illuminated from the receiving device.

Neither of them could move as Endeavor came from behind them, witnessing the whole thing. Endeavor used his fire to create a light source, giving them a better view.

Before the heros was a blood splattered ground, all over the brick walls and objects on the ground. But there was not a source of where that blood might have come from. The reminisce of a duffle bag lay abandoned on the side next to a dumpster. It’s contents were scattered all around, ripped clothes and other items which blood splattered all over.

There was only one person who all there’s items belonged to. They all knew it. Especially Keigo.

He took a couple steps in stopping right before a bright screen in the center of it all. The device displayed warped images of the two of them on the shattered glass of the screen. Keigo could make out both of their faces, he was holding her on a bridge. Arms wrapped around each other, him kissing her blush covered cheek as she sweetly giggled.

Keigo fell to his knees in front of it. Rumi started wailing, yelling to (y/n) that this was not a joke, demanding she come out. Endeavor stepped to the side calling for backup and a forensic team.

Curling over his knees, Keigo started sobbing hysterically. His wings slumped to the ground shaking with every sob that racked through his body.

The phone kept ringing, as if it was mocking him. Ringing. Ringing. And ringing. Over and over again. Until it went on, until it stopped and caused his phone to go to voicemail. Her angelic voice came from his speake

“Sorry if I couldn’t answer right away, make sure to leave a message and i- hey! Keigo stop, no, Keig-,” “She obviously busy, if it is urgent call a hero or something,” “Keigo for God sake, give me my phone” “Leave a message or call later, i really don't care which,” “You dorky chicken leg, give it back!”

Then it cut out, ending the voice over. Her voice faded out, leaving his broken cries the only thing to be heard.

Keigo never moved, he sat there hurled over in the middle of the alleyway, wings splayed out over the ground.

Endeavor had to drag Keigo to his feet and haul him out of the way so that the investigators could get to work. He made Keigo sit on a bench by the front of the building next to the alley. A bunch of heros were trying to console Rumi through her mentally breakdown, as she cursed the world, threatening the worst to those who took her family.

Keigo stared back towards the ally littered with a team of investigators through blurry eyes. He felt his world come to an end. No damage he could or had taken amounted to his current pain. It squeezed at his chest and restricted his airways. He couldn’t control his muscles, everything ached from head to toe.

The one person who kept him from falling was stolen. Not even the wings on his back can keep him from falling into the cruel hell hole that is society.

Reaching into the coat pocket his coat pocket he pulled out the box, holding it in his lap. Tears once again spilling down his face. She was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. Someone took away his babies.

She always called Keigo her hero. She promised him that nothing would ever change that.

(Y/n) could be alive somewhere, the investigators came over and informed that there is no sign of a body, but a blood trail that leads to tire marks through one of the connecting alleyways.

Keigo is going to find her. He’s going to bring his babies home. Shower his angel in all the love she deserves. He’s going to fix everything.

Hands clutched the box in a tight grip as razor eyes narrowed at the alley. Keigo could feel his feathers sharpening from his state of anger. There was going to be Hell to pay. Blood to shed. Bones to break. May God have mercy on those who took (y/n), because Keigo will have none to give.

—————————————————————————

Edit: I’m not sure if I should just leave it there or make a part 2 so let me know what all y’all think.

[sepublic]

Wing it like Witches!

           Let me tell you- I was WORRIED this episode would make me sad and angsty, but instead it just made me happy and all warm inside! I know that sounds super-corny but like…

           I LOVED this episode! I was worried from the promo pic that Boscha’s bullying would really get to Luz, Gus, and Willow, but… It didn’t! I mean, it still got to WILLOW hence the entire episode, but otherwise Luz and Gus were less “Wow I’m really being reminded of my insecurities from bullying” and more “I can’t believe she ACTUALLY did that. She wasted her entire school day doing that. This girl is NUTS, is she okay back home?”

           (The more I see of Boscha, the more I have to wonder if she IS okay back home… Obviously not crippled with self-loathing to the extent that Amity is, but never mind.)

           What’s really surprise to see though; LILITH IS A RED-HEAD!?!? I remember seeing that first pic of young Eda with two other classmates, one of whom was obscured and the other had glasses; And I thought, is THAT girl Lilith, could it be? Is the girl with the obscured face the one who stole Lilith’s lunch money, potentially that favorite character from Season 2 that Dana alluded to? My mind is racing, but either way young Eda and Lilith are utterly adorable! I do have to wonder if what Lilith had to say about Eda’s bad memory was just a jab, or something more… Given that the show has alluded to Eda possibly having amnesia with MORE than just her curse…!

           Speaking of which; LILITH AND EDA GETTING ALONG! Well, sort of- I mean they’re technically adversarial by the end of this episode, but only technically. Lilith knows where the Owl House is, finally; And we get to see in this episode just how capable Hooty really IS as a security system, surprisingly enough! He even manages to capture LILITH; Though to be fair, she may not have been super-invested in the mission given this was her sister we’re talking about, but still! Coupled with Hooty mercilessly tearing apart those toys in Adventures in the Elements, and I have to wonder if he’s ever, like… KILLED people before, y’know?

           …Maybe I don’t want that answer. Regardless, I love Luz’s little cheeky interference with Eda’s game, but Eda still manages to win by her last trick; Just pure, genuine skill and talent! That was a twist, I was expecting Eda to have another cheat or to be caught by Lilith, but as I said before… Eda isn’t humble, and for a GOOD reason! Lilith ain’t no slouch either, and I love that King willingly donned a cheerleader outfit just to offer support! I mean, maybe Eda MADE him, but otherwise he didn’t seem to have much of an issue so long as it was just at home!

           And… I LOVE the little small moments between Eda and Lilith, where… Lilith KNOWS she has to turn her sister in, she’s getting desperate, but it’s also low-key breaking her heart to do this! And when she loses the match and just… FALLS on her knees in despair, questioning herself, and Eda picking her up? Giving her that signature ring, just to make Lilith look better? I… I LOVE these sisters, why can’t they make up?! Lilith isn’t even aiming to imprison Eda, she just wants her to join the Emperor’s Coven and continue doing stuff alongside her, like old times!

           And Eda… Eda still needs her autonomy, but she knows that Lilith isn’t some cruel person. She knows that Lilith loves her sister and wants the best, that she’s in a terrible position; Eda knows how stifling the Coven System is, and while being beneath Belos provides a lot of power… It also provides a lot of PRESSURE as well! Sure, Lilith chose this… But Eda still believes that Lilith is deserving of kindness and compassion!

           (Let me tell you, considering I don’t think we’ve seen any Eda clips past this episode, I was LEGIT afraid she’d get captured by the end… thank goodness!)

           What’s also fascinating to note is that Emperor Belos was in charge since fiftyyears ago; Given the speculation that Eda isn’t as old as she looks, this indicates Belos is PRETTY old himself, by a large margin; Especially when one considers how long-lived Bump is! It’s a small moment telling us how he established the Coven Heads five decades ago, but I really appreciated it; And in general, this episode seems to be our final, light-hearted breather before we get into the REALLY heavy stuff… Keep in mind, our last two episodes were originally planned to air side-by-side, like a two-part season finale! On a lesser note, we see the Heximal System teacher giving a History lesson, confirming what I suspected earlier; That some subjects include students from all tracks, simply because the subject-matter applies across any and all covens, and History is one of them! Love the small world-building here!

           Given how we don’t see anything else of Willow and Gus past that scene in Belos’ treasury, I have to wonder… What if those two get captured, and only Luz can escape? Amidst King –and possibly Eda- being taken as well, Luz might be looking at a one-man operation here! Which just makes her all the more impressive… Like looking at her now, even if she DOES lose against Lilith; She’d still have been going toe-to-toe with the Head of the Emperor’s Coven, even if only briefly! Luz has come a far way away from where she started as just a powerless human, and has amassed FOUR glyphs; Light, Ice, Plant, and Fire!

           And BOY HOWDY is she good at them! Seriously, I bet she could’ve easily beaten Boscha in a Witch’s Duel if she wanted; Though it’s worth noting that according to Willow, Grudgby is apparently the only language she speaks… Given that shot of her room at the beginning, I have to wonder if that’s where her MAIN self-worth lies in! In the beginning Boscha acknowledges to herself that she’s hated, ‘so long as she is feared’; And her monologue low-key gives me, “Doesn’t know how to make friends so copes by putting herself above everybody else and overinflating her own self-importance under the impression that people are just secretly jealous!” vibes. (In some ways she’s like Grace from Infinity Train…)

That aside, I just get a sensation of pride from seeing how adept and adaptable Luz is, and the way she learned Fire from Boscha of all people –Which I called!- is both hilarious but goes to show what kind of a learner she is… I feel like Eda, like we’ve watched our kid grow and get stronger and I can’t WAIT to see what she pulls off next! Amidst her learning Magic and then defying the Coven System… you go Luz, YOU GO!

           And, it seems I’m not the only person who shares this sentiment! Even after Boscha’s bullying, we don’t see anybody beyond her gang make fun of Luz and co.! When Willow gets trashed poured on her, some students are watching, but… They seem kind of disturbed by it all? They’re not outright vouching on her behalf like Luz, possibly because Boscha is watching; But still! It is SO cathartic to see Willow being beloved by the entire school like that, even if she’s keeping her friend-circle to a select few; People LIKE her, and it’s what she deserves! Like Luz, I’m SO proud…!

           I’m still disappointed we didn’t get the names of Boscha’s other friends, but I really like their inclusion here! I liked how they all seemed rather uncomfortable with seeing Luz forfeit, only to be made Boscha’s target practice; And how Luz is so bright, bubbly, and infectiously-cheerful, spreading her good will to others! Like, this girl is TOO kind, and so loving… She has no bounds and I love how those other girls are even affected by Luz, genuinely enjoying her and wanting to be friends, alongside having Willow as a teammate! I have to wonder if they’ll ditch Boscha after this… Or at the very least, try to talk her down as friends of Boscha that she actually cares about and vice-versa (compared to Amity, who has always been cold towards Boscha, hence why her talking wouldn’t have made a difference)!

           Speaking of Amity… C’mon, girl. Your CRUSH is showing, the way you’re getting flustered, imagining seeing Luz in a ‘cute’ uniform and everything… Gus being utterly confused, but you can tell that the gears in Willow’s head are turning and honestly; She’s all for it, likely! I think this is the first time Amity has had an ACTUAL crush on someone she can talk to, instead of some distant figure or a fictional character! It’s so heartwarming seeing her navigate it, getting to actually deal with feelings like a kid is supposed to be allowed to do! And Luz being clueless… That, or she thinks Amity is into WILLOW, which makes a lot of sense too!

           (After all, Luz knows that her parents wouldn’t approve of her being Amity’s girlfriend… But Luz, you have NO idea how much she cares, she literally loves you more than she fears them! And Amity, knowing that her parents wouldn’t approve and struggling with this no doubt, but her love for Luz is really shining through over all of that!)

           To put it simply; Luz is FRIEND-shaped, she’s lovable, there’s no escaping liking her! Maybe Boscha will always be a bully, and I know one might call it ‘cliché’… But honestly I’d love to see Boscha eventually warm up to Luz and HER infectious positivity as well! Also, I saw that twist with the Rusty Smidge coming from a mile away, and I love how Luz low-key gets into a genuine rant over it! Although the loss doesn’t matter, as Luz’s team was clearly more adept and Boscha’s friends don’t seem interested in forcing Luz and her friends to do all of that other stuff…

           Anyhow, I love seeing Amity stand up for her friends, and when she says that her social life has improved because she’s with Luz, in spite of Boscha’s claims… I really CAN see her standing up to her parents, sometime later! I speculated a while back that depending on how her and Luz’s relationship in Enchanting Grom Fright goes, it’d really impact what Amity does later down the line, and I was right! But it IS worth noting that Amity may not yet know that Luz has to leave… King and Eda know, and the former mentioned this in front of Willow and Gus! It’s possible that Luz has laid out her plans to return every summer (and during winter break and whatnot), which would definitely lessen Amity’s angst by an infinite amount! And seeing as how she has instantaneous access to the Demon Realm, who’s to say she can’t pop in every day, after school! Sure she might not be actively living in the Owl House anymore, but otherwise…!

           On another note with Amity, I love her and Luz getting to geek out over The Good Witch Azura, and it’s funny to see the show confirm what I wondered about earlier; About Amity secretly making Azura references in public, under the knowledge that nobody would recognize them and realize she’s a nerd… But LUZ does now, and the two can bond! Also, Amity getting to have fun with Luz and co. at the end, being CARRIED by Luz, fully accepted into the home… I know you also have the library as a safe space Amity, but you’ve also got the Owl House as well! And it seems Hooty bears no grudges, either!

           Also, someone speculated recently that Amity has her goth-sense from Lilith… and given the implication that Lilith dyed her hair, I can REALLY SEE IT! I’m disappointed we didn’t get any interactions between the two… But the way it was set up, I feel like if Eda and Lilith were there they’d be too busy cheering on their kids respectively! Or not, we’ve seen them prioritize their feud in Covention… But back then Luz and Amity weren’t on the same team!

           Back to Amity, it’s interesting that she used to be on the Grudgby team, and was good at it, even being CAPTAIN when Boscha wasn’t; But then explicitly quit when she accidentally hurt some of her ‘friends’ merely once. Even if she never cared for them in the past, even if this was before she met Luz and learned to be kind and open again… She was ALWAYS someone who was self-conscious of her actions! And sure, the issue is that Amity is a LITTLE too self-conscious, constantly berating herself, holding herself accountable for every mistake… But regardless, it says a lot how guilty she feels to have hurt her teammates, even if it was an accident and a one-time incident that resulted in victory!

           I’ll probably do ANOTHER post about it later, but it says a lot; How Amity feels like she should step up as a Blight, and she DOES outshine the others… But because of that inherent guilt but also compassion, she actually quits Grudgby out of guilt! Which leads me to the idea that even if she tolerated Boscha and co., she wouldn’t have wanted to hurt them; Again, because she’s critical of herself, but also because Amity isn’t cruel and it may have reminded her of how she treated Willow! I have to respect and fear for Amity on quitting Grudgby after that…

           Again, I think she has the issue of being too overtly-critical of herself, and that it’s honestly THE issue that defines her problems; But on the other hand, I feel like Amity’s parents would’ve been displeased to see their star child quit the team, just for hurting some ‘lesser’ witches? I’m scared for what may have happened to Amity, but it also says a lot that she made a potentially defiant move simply because she didn’t want to hurt yet another friend…

           (That, or her parents wanted Amity to focus on Abominations and other studies, and coupled with Amity’s guilt, it was the perfect opportunity to get her off the team. Which would be sad, but not surprising.)

           Anyhow, I just think it’s interesting that Boscha and co. don’t ever seem to have any resentment towards Amity until recently. It’s possible Boscha DID dislike Amity up until she stepped down… But it makes me wonder if Boscha, like, looked up to Amity and wanted her approval and attention? Given how she’s always framed as following Amity… Perhaps Amity stepping down led to Boscha taking the spotlight, and so Boscha feels indebted towards Amity for her fame (and potential source of self-worth)?

           Last but DEFINITELY not least; Somebody else (I’m sorry I keep forgetting) alluded to how in Understanding Willow, there was the issue set up of Luz meaning the best for friends… But also sometimes invading their privacy, or overriding what they want, so she can live out her fantasies at the same time! And, like- A big part of her IS doing this for her friends, that much is clear… But Luz does have an issue sometimes with clearing fantasy from reality! It’s a more advanced lesson from the one she learned in Episode 2, continuing off of that, and I LOVE it!

           Like, I really do LOVE how Luz recognizes in this episode that even if a part of her is motivated in helping Willow, she’s also using this as a chance to live out her underdog Azura fantasies, and how Willow points this out to her… and Luz realizes that she’s right! She actively MAKES a change to her behavior, and makes up for it by fixing Willow’s hairclip and even forfeiting on Willow’s behalf and taking all the punishment… All because she doesn’t want her friend to be uncomfortable! Man, Luz is SO ridiculously kind, I keep saying she’s my favorite but she REALLY IS! What a lovable dork, no wonder Boscha and her friends are falling for her!

           (Also RIP Skara, you were the fourth one in a team of three. Although given how she helped carry Luz and Amity in the previous episode, amidst already having more screen time… I can see this as a way for the writers to give more of a spotlight to Boscha’s other friends, while subtly acknowledging that Skara likely has gotten over her bias towards Luz and the others. I wonder if Boscha also noticed and that’s why she was left out; That, or she’s the least-skilled? I dunno, but it was neat to see and I’ll overanalyze the moment regardless!)

           On a lesser note; Willow’s last name is Park, which is a Korean surname! Coupled with her VA’s ethnicity and Willow/Tati Gabrielle being listed amongst other Asian rep characters and VAs, and I think it’s safe to say that she’s the Boiling Isles equivalent to Asian; Which let me tell you, is VERY nice to see!

           Overall, this was an AMAZING episode! It was a heartwarming, feel-good episode that reaffirmed character relationships and love while still expanding on them, adding in more friends to the group… It was pretty much nothing but happy moments and revelations! Obviously things are setting up in the next two episodes to go REALLY crazy, especially with Luz potentially getting banned from Hexside for defying Lilith and Belos… But it’s clear to say that she’s left QUITE the good impression on the administration and students! And I can see some even vibing with Luz’s ideas even after she gets kicked out… Perhaps Luz will unknowingly start a rebellion of sorts?

[misterewrites]

Intro to Caitlyn 102 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone! E here with another chapter. been a busy week so this is a little late but with any luck I'll have the next underground chapter out this week or maybe another chapter for this story. dunno I'm just having fun in general. I hope you are all staying safe, wash your hands, wear your mask, get the vaccine if you can, keep each other safe! Feel free to tell your friends about this, reblog it or leave comments I'd greatly appreciate it. Trying promote myself is weird haha Stay safe and have a great week!

If you’d like an easier place to read the story, feel free to follow the link below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76796408

Summary: Caitlyn has her target thanks to one Finnrick Drift and now it's time to break in. After she takes care a few things at home.

-----

Caitlyn sighed as she was unable to keep her eyes off the slivered hue butterfly hair ornament in her palm, the multi-colored glass shards wings stretched wide like it was ready to take flight.

It was beautiful, it was the perfect and it was expensive.

The sliver was real, none of that cheap painted copper or tin or whatever hairclips were normally made of. The different shards of glass had been painstakingly put into place, each fitting together perfectly like a completed puzzle which must’ve taken months to do by hand. And true to his word, she could feel the energy of this item, the magical thrum of its power. It no longer felt cold and distant but warm, light and carried a familiarity with it. It was strange to say but it was almost like the ornament was breathing in time with her. Like it was a part of her.

Of course it was, it’s freaking magic! Frankly magic could do whatever the hell it wanted apparently. The real question was what hidden power laid within.

Somehow in the back of her mind she knew how this thing was supposed to work: it granted her some kind of temporary movement. What that meant she hadn’t the slightest clue. She also knew it would only last an hour and would ‘refresh’ at every dawn. Because that’s a thing. And she knew the spoken word needed to activate it. Which of course meant the word was angel.

Caitlyn frowned, unsure what kind of joke this was. Finnrick had specifically called her angel twice: once when they first met and when asked what exactly the hairclip did. Clearly it was some inside joke he was in on. She just wished she was too.

“Hey Cat, you okay? You keep looking at the wall.”

Caitlyn shook herself out of her stupor and found herself staring at wide brown curious eyes that belonged her baby brother Lou.

Louis or Lou as he preferred to be called, was 7 years old (soon to be 8 next month). He had messy black hair with a cute button nose. He wore clothing typical of a child his age: A red shirt with a hero splashed across its front and baggy shorts. His sneakers were worn and frayed which reminded Caitlyn she really needed to get him a new pair. Between his chubby cheeks and the gap in his smile he was the cutest kid in the world. True he was a bit pudgy due to his lack of height though if he was anything like their father, he would grow to tower over her.

Caitlyn sighed sadly: two years and still no word of her parents. One day they just up and vanished. She used to think they had died through some cruel act of fate or misfortune. In her weaker moments, she briefly wondered if they just left Lou and her behind to start a new life.

But now, with the realization there was a whole magical world on top of her own, she couldn’t fathom what could’ve happened to them. Her thoughts were endlessly filled with possibility and none of them good. None of them made the pain hurt less.

She pinched herself as hard as she could. The sharp pain cut through her wandering mind and focused her back on the task at hand.

“I’m fine” She gave a sly smile “But have you finished your sandwich? A nice man bought it for you and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Lou bounced up and down excitedly, pudgy hands tucked into a fist “Yes, yes I did! It was yummy!”

“Awesome!”

“Who was the nice man?” Lou asked quizzically, tilting his head to one side.

“Umm….” Caitlyn was torn: One hand she wasn’t quite sure where her and Finnrick landed on the whole trustworthy scale. On the other hand she couldn’t just say a random name. Lou had an uncanny ability to know when she was lying. Bordering on supernatural sometimes.

She glanced carefully towards her baby brother, searching for any sign of magic or mysticism in his chubby cheeks.

He scrunched his eyes wide and inched closer to her. She blinked, stumbling backwards at his sudden movement.

“I win!” He cheered with a bright smile “You blinked first!”

It took a moment for Caitlyn to process what was going on.

She laughed softly “Yeah kiddo. You win.”

“So what’s the nice man’s name? It’s not Jonas, is it? He was a creep.”

“Yeah he was.” Caitlyn awkwardly agreed. Her stomach churned unhappily at the thought of her ex. “No, his name is Finn.”

“Finn” Lou paused thoughtfully, eyes narrowed in concentration “Fiiiiinn. Finn! I like it! Fiiiiiiiinn. Can you thank him for me next time you two go out?”

Caitlyn rose a hand up no protest “Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down kiddo. We’re not dating.”

“But why not? You said he was nice.”

“I…” she glanced about the apartment wearily: Peeling paint, barely held together furniture and rent past due. So much work and effort for this ramshackle home.

“I don’t have time kiddo. I got to keep working if we wanna keep this place.”

Lou frowned, his face confused as if he couldn’t understand the word work “But you’re always working Cat. When are you supposed to have fun?”

Caitlyn ruffled his already messy hair lovingly “I’ll worry about that and you worry about having fun...and keeping up your grades.”

Lou’s ears perked up “What? Sorry, I think I hear Hedge calling me.” and without further warning, he bolted into his room, picking up his beloved turtle plush Hedge and dove under the covers.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but grin at his brother’s antics.

Then reality set in again.

She rather not deal with this newly found, barely understood magical world but regular folks weren’t paying the bills like they used to. Her fence was giving her less and charging more. Some bulltshit about paying off crooked cops or whatever. Sounded like a half ass excuse to her but they both knew she didn’t have much options.

Real gold. Any loose change from magical folks could easily lighten her burden and the promise of more sat in some entitled prick’s safe.

She couldn’t resist even if she had tried and she hadn’t tried to stop herself in years.

-----

Caitlyn waited till midnight to make her move. It was easier to blend in with darker shades and regardless of who she was robbing, she wasn’t in the business to make enemies. Especially enemies with unknown powers.

Lou was tucked into bed, nice and cozy with Hedge locked in his arms. Mrs. Palmer, a kindly older woman next door, agreed to watch him. They shared a silent knowing look with one another.

Her apartment was on the less than well kept side of town and everyone had their hands in some sort of shady business here. They tried their best to keep their noses clean but sometimes there were dips into less savory methods of getting cash.

Caitlyn was prepped for the mission ahead: A black blouse with black leggings. Thick black hiking boots for gripping walls and a leather black jacket to keep the cold and sharp pointy objects away from her skin.

She took a sad glance at the jacket, remembering all the times her father joked about handing it down to her when she beat him at arm wrestling. She could still hear dad’s hearty laughter echoing down the hall.

Caitlyn’s eyes hardened as she forced herself to look away “They left. No point in letting good gear go to waste.”

She took a deep calming breath as she ripped the tape off the butterfly knife she hid underneath her bed. She hated unnecessary violence but sometimes it took more than a good right hook to get someone off your ass. Better to have it and not need it than wind up with a bruise of regret.

She slipped the knife into her jacket pocket, slung her bag over her shoulder, nodded thankfully towards Mrs. Palmer and made her way out the door.

------

Caitlyn decided to take the long way: True it was halfway across town and took an hour of traveling but she always enjoyed the quiet that came with waiting. It calmed her, allowed her time to double and triple check her plans with the added benefit of shaking out any loose thoughts rattling in her head with each bump of the bus.

She stared at the beautiful ornate butterfly clip currently holding her ponytail up in the window. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what exactly Finnrick had given her but she didn’t want to use it at the apartment in case it didn’t do what it was supposed to. After all, suddenly having the knowledge in her head on how to work the hairclip was a bit unsettling. Okay really unsettling. Better to use it far away from Lou in case it exploded or something else nasty.

She got off the bus at last and hurried her way over to Andor’s, careful to cover her face whenever she spotted the odd store or traffic camera. She didn’t know who actually controlled them and she didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Andor’s Antique Shoppe (really cute elf boy) was the tallest building on the street: three floors that towered over the single story shops nearby. The street itself was nearly pitch black with a street lamp on either end of the block being the only source of light. Not a soul in sight.

Now was a good time as any to try out the hairclip. Caitlyn closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she focused on the magical item. Goosebumps ran down her spine while the quiet, powerful thrum hummed softly in her ears. The word escaped her lips like it was second nature.

“Angel”

She nearly stumbled as a warm sensation filled her entire being. It covered her like a second skin and suddenly she was aware of the hairclip intimately: It’s weight, where it sat upon her head. She could feel the wings of the butterfly unfold, outstretched and ready to take flight. She heard the shimmering of magic forming into existence and she let out a surprised gasp when her feet lifted off the ground.

Caitlyn glanced in the nearby shop window, tears welling in her eyes:Beautiful translucent butterfly wings extended out from behind her. The outline of the wings were a deep rich purple with the multicolored glass stained shards gorgeously laid across its surface, each as elegant and refined as any art piece she’d ever seen. Each flutter and beat held her aloft, defying gravity’s hold on her. In the shadows of the night, the soft glow of the wings made her look like...

“An angel.” she whispered gently “I look like an angel.”

Caitlyn wiped the tears away. Technically she was a butterfly but this wasn’t the time for sentiment. She had a job to do and the longer she floated out here the more likely she’d get caught.

“Up” she murmured and the wings obliged: she rose silently skyward, each beating of the wings taking her higher and higher. The chill of the wind felt nice across her cheeks and she couldn’t help but relax in its presence.

Her original plan was to simply scale the side of the building and pick the window to gain entry but with her new found vertical movement, it was easier to just go up and over. She made sure she ascended from the end of the street and flew over to the third floor.

Caitlyn tilted her head quizzically as she found herself staring at a haphazardly open window.

“It can’t be this simple.” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously “It has to be a trap.”

-----

Caitlyn stood dumbfounded in the unguarded office of Andor.

She looked to her left then to her right, waiting for some sort of ambush to be sprung.

None came.

“Okay it is this simple.” Caitlyn whispered to herself, opting to just take this stroke of good fortune and run with it. She quietly willed the wings away and with a glitter of magic they vanished into thin air.

She crept over to the black safe tucked lazily in the corner, a stack of important looking documents just thrown on top without a care in the world. She quickly pocketed them and turned her attention to the roadblock in her way. True to Finnrick’s information, the safe itself was fairly simple and wouldn’t take much to break into. Either Andor was extremely confident in his security or really didn’t take being a crook seriously.

Not that it mattered to Caitlyn. It wasn’t her fault Andor hadn’t invested in a good safe.

She pressed her ear against the cool surface of the metal, trying to ignore the icy chill on her cheek as she strained to listen for the nearly inaudible click of the tumblers falling into place. It had taken two tries too many but she allowed herself a smug grin as the safe’s door swung open with a creak.

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed at the sight of a funny symbol painted onto the back of the door. It gleamed with a strange unnatural light before disappearing all together. Before she could began to guess what bad news that meant, the shouts and thundering footsteps echoed from below answered her question.

“Shit.” She whispered as she began frantically grabbing everything she could: Folders, stacks of papers and clanging metal in heavy pouches. It all went into her bag with as much speed as she could muster.

The footsteps grew louder with a frantic pace. They were already on the second floor if she hazard a guess. Caitlyn made for the window and without a second thought, flung herself outside with all her might.

“Angel!” She hurried muttered but the wings were forming too slowly. She already crossed past the next floor down when they barely began to outstretch from her back. Caitlyn was no physics major but even she knew there was no way she’d be able to slow down in time to avoid breaking her neck. She shielded her face with her arms and tried not to flinch as she waited for the pain to set in.

It didn’t come.

Instead she felt herself slow to a stop midair and just stayed here. Caitlyn opened her eyes to find herself bobbing up and down inches away from the pavement. There were a pair of legs as well: Black slacks and well polished loafers with the bottom half of a black tattered trench coat.

“Falling for me angel? I didn’t expect it to be literal.”

She glanced up to found herself staring at the one and only Finnrick Drift before her, a cheeky smile on his lips and his hand held out.

Finnrick waved his fingers over her and she landed onto the sidewalk with a soft thud.

He offered her his hand but she preferred to scamper to her feet in the most ungraceful way possible. Her cheeks burned with a pinkish hue at the sight of the P.I.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t keep the embarrassment out of her voice “I….thanks.”

Finnrick nodded “Anytime.”

“WHY IS THE DOOR LOCKED?!” A voice roared from overhead.

“CUZ IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOU IDIOT!”

Realization knocked Caitlyn out of whatever was going on here but as she turned to make a break for it, Finnrick rose his hand to stop her.

She glanced at him, lost and confused.

“The favor. I’m calling it in.”

“What?! Here?! NOW!? You got to be kidding!”

“I kid about a lot of things.” Finnrick admitted “but not this.”

“We’re standing outside the place I just robbed! This isn’t the time!”

“Yes it is.”

Caitlyn took a step back and cast a suspicious look at the private investigator “You were using me, weren’t you? You didn’t want to get your hands dirty so you let me borrow the wings so I can steal the thing for you!”

Finnrick shook his head.

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Caitlyn snarled

Finnrick answered simply “You were clearly better at locks and sneaking around than I am. I was actually having trouble figuring how to pull this off. Every option ended with a fight with Andor. That’s why I’m out here. Why I busted every cameras on the street and managed to keep the window open. To make sure you were okay.”

“Where even were you?!” Caitlyn tried in vain to recall seeing Finnrick on the street “it doesn’t matter! You want me to trust you?! Just like that?”

Finnrick sighed tiredly “Please angel I trust you.”

Caitlyn’s eyes went cold “That is your mistake, not mine.”

Finnrick stared back at her, his dark brown eyes warm and gentle “Trusting you is my choice. Breaking it lays entirely with you.”

Caitlyn felt the rage and distrust drain out of her and replaced with a tense exhaustion.

Angel. He had let her borrow the wings and while there was no way he’d let her keep them he did give it to her for a favor. A simple favor he promised.

She sighed in defeat “What’s the favor?”

“I need a paper from the stack.”

“And if I give it to you, will you let me go?” She asked, hating how weak and vulnerable she sounded.

“No” Finnrick spoke without hesitation.

Caitlyn's shoulders sagged with disappointment.

“I will protect you.”

Caitlyn couldn’t help but stare at Finnrick: His face was scrunched up in a rather cute sense of determination and his body was relaxed. It was clear he was trying to be as nonthreatening as possible and despite her recent outburst, he seemed more concern with her than himself.

When was the last time someone offered to protect her? Granted she didn’t need any but even Caitlyn had to admit it was nice to hear.

They stood there for a moment, the angry shouts and cursing of Andor and his thugs breaking the silence of the night.

“Which paper is it?”

“It’ll be a single sheet with some fancy silvery writing on it.”

It took her no time to find it: It was thicker than all the others, written on some ancient paper that was aged yellow with time but was otherwise intact. The shining silvery writing was indeed fancy but nearly impossible to make out. She could actually feel her eyes water just looking at it and she wasted no time shoving it into Finn’s hand.

“There!” Caitlyn cast a nervous glance towards the third floor window “I kept my end. Now keep yours. Please.”

Finnrick said nothing. He instead tucked the loose paper inside his coat and offered a hand to her.

Confused but running out of options, she gingerly took his hand in hers. She flushed at how warm he was. Caitlyn let out a yelp as Finnrick pulled her in. She tried to keep her cheeks from turning a lovely shade of red when Finnrick held her close.

Finnrick began chanting, his hands drawing unseen symbols in the air. Caitlyn could feel the same warm sensation from earlier wash over her as Finnrick’s spell took effect.

-----

“FIND MY STUFF NOW!” Andor screamed with bloody rage. He was typical of an elf: Impossible well kept blonde hair that flowed to his back, piercing forest green eyes. He was tall and lean with the tackiest suit anyone had seen. Reds and pinks in some sort plaid pattern. He called it looking good. His goons called it a headache. His pointed ears twitch unhappily as he struggled to listen for any sort of sound nearby but found nothing beyond the usual quiet hum of the city.

Andor groaned unhappily as he made his way to the window. His eyes scanned the street with a clarity not even the most technologically advance camera could match. His elf eyes took in every detail through the shadows: every imperfect scratch on the brick buildings, the asphalt embedded with the grooves of tires, cracked sidewalks that spread out like bolts of lightning.

Nothing. Not a single soul was in sight. The silhouetted street was bare and empty.

“FUCK!” Andor screamed into the silence “FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! FIND THEM NOW! CHECK THE FRONT DOOR CAMERA!”

“We can’t boss, it was fried yesterday, remember?”

Andor shut the window with a violent thud.

-----

Caitlyn let out the tense sigh she hadn’t realized she had been holding in.

She instinctively looked towards Finnrick only to find empty air.

“We’ll have to be invisible a little longer. They’ll be searching the shop before they think to start fanning outside. Andor will be making the process longer. Let’s get to the end of the street and I’ll drop it then.”

Caitlyn nodded for a moment before realizing he couldn’t see her

He guided her arm into his and the pair briskly walked down the street. It felt weird to walk invisible, arm in arm, while a childish elf baby raged behind them.

When they reached the end of the street, Finnrick dropped the spell. The two reappeared as quickly as they’d vanished. Caitlyn pulled away from the detective, her body shivering from the sudden lack of warmth.

“Thank you.” Caitlyn murmured softly.

Finnrick tipped his fedora “Any time sweetie.”

“What now?”

Finnrick scratched his chin thoughtfully “It is late and staying here would be a terrible idea. I suspect we both have places to be.”

Finnrick reached into his pocket and held out a piece of paper for Caitlyn to take. She stared at it, unsure what he was offering.

“It’s my fence.” He clarified with a smile “I take it you don’t know a magical one. He’s very trustworthy and he’ll give you a fair price.”

“Thanks” she took the slip of paper “I….thank you.”

“Any time. Good night angel.”

“Wait!” She reached for him but drew back when he turned to face her “Your hairclip? The one you let me borrow?”

Finnrick’s eyes twinkled with amusement “You didn’t hear me, did you? I told you that’s yours.”

Caitlyn could hear her heart thundering in her ears, cheeks ablaze “You sure? It seems like it costed a pretty penny.”

“Pretty amount of gold.” Finnrick corrected with a wink “And I’m pretty sure. I made it for you.”

“Why?” The question slipped out of her mouth “Why me? You barely know me.”

“Not true.” Finnrick nervously bit his lip “You barely know me. I’ve been waiting for you forever now. About five yearsin fact.”

“Me?” Her blush worsened “I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Finnrick took her hand in his once more and softly kissed it. Caitlyn could feel a flutter of butterflies fill her stomach.

He hesitated to break his hold on her but he did so respectfully. Caitlyn could see his cheeks tinged with a pinkish hue as he began walking away.

Caitlyn stood there and watched the detective vanish into the night.

-----

Okay, so she didn’t just stand there dumbfounded as Finnrick walked away. It was probably a terrible idea and definitely not normal Caitlyn behavior but she followed him.

It wasn’t too hard given her newfound verticality. She just waited a few minutes, noted the direction he was heading and flew over the rooftops. Finnrick didn’t seem to be aware he was being followed. He walked the darken streets of Newton Haven, gesturing to the odd person or mythical being cloak in the darkness. His pace was casual and unsuspecting.

Her concerns about running out of time were unfounded as about 30 minutes later, Finnrick ducked into a fairly decent apartment complex. It was better kept than hers but only by a fraction.

A dark apartment on the third floor was suddenly flooded with light as Finnrick Drift made his way inside. He hung his coat and fedora at a coat rack that stood by the door. The apartment was itself humble: he had a battered desk placed by the window, his tiny kitchen was on one side and the door to his bedroom on the other. There was a large file cabinet next to a battered, ancient fridge. Not the place of a well paid private investigator.

Finnrick sighed tiredly as he rolled up his sleeves. The way his body hunched over with the slow debilitate movements he made, it was obvious he must’ve been exhausted. But whatever he was up to must’ve been important because he began drawing on his lovely wooden floor.

Caitlyn couldn’t really guess what the detective was doing beyond the shape he was making: There was a large outer circle and a much smaller one within. An array of symbols were drawn between the two circles such as stars, a crescent moon, squiggles shaped like trees with a language she didn’t understand.

It didn’t take Finnrick long to finish. He stood at full height, wiping the sweat from his brow as he reached into his pocket and pulled a baggie. Carefully, he opened the bag and pulled out a sliver thread that seemed to shine even at this distance. He placed it within the smaller circle and outstretched a hand like he was grasping at something. His eyes, normally a warm dark brown, glowed with blue arcane power. Magical symbols formed before him and the building groaned and creaked like the mere presence of magic commanded it to speak. He lit a match, his lips moving more and more wildly yet no sound could be heard from within. Finnrick closed his hand into a fist and the symbols sunk into the circle. He flung the match onto the sliver thread and the entire glyph blazed with fire for moment. There was a flash of a brilliant light and the circle had vanished only to be replaced by some strange figure.

She was much taller than Finn, so tall in fact the top of her head nearly scraped the bottom of the next floor up. Her hair was wispy, thin threads of sliver that reached to the bottom of her feet. Her skin was pale like moonlight and two dark sunken pits formed her eyes. Her frame was lanky and unnatural like someone had pulled and stretch her into her current form. Her clothes were torn and ragged.

The figure tiled her head curiously at Finnrick who dug into his pocket and pulled out the yellowed paper Caitlyn had given him. The figure was dumbstruck as Finnrick handed it to her with a warm smile. He offered a match to the creature but she shook her head. She gingerly held the paper in her hand, staring at it like was about to vanish into thin air.

Then she ripped it. She tore at it with a fierce, terrifying frenzy. She ripped and ripped and ripped until impossibly small bits of paper rained across the apartment. Caitlyn leaned closer as previously unseen shackles formed upon the figure’s wrist and cracked wide open. They slipped off and vanished into the air.

The figure let out a manic laugh as she shrunk, her limbs realigning themselves until she looked like a proper human sized person only a head taller than Finnrick. Her thin wispy hair fattened to thick, full braids of metallic silver. Her skin remained pale but her dark sunken eyes turned a coal black, full of life and joy. Even her clothes had transformed into a splendid elegant dress that sparkled like stars.

She cried, clear streams of water running down her face as she held Finnrick’s hands tightly. She wailed and shook, unable to keep her emotions in any longer. Finnrick let her, giving only a satisfied grin in response. She handed him a handful of gold, 3 maybe 4 pieces and began patting her dress as if looking for more. Finnrick stopped her, pocketing the gold and shaking his head no. The creature was not satisfied by this and began to gesture wildly about. Finnrick remained steadfast. He gestured to himself, lips speaking but Caitlyn couldn’t read whathe was mouthing this far away. The figure said nothing as a small child matching her skin tone appeared from out of nowhere. The child gestured to his wrist excitedly though nothing was there. The figure scooped the child in her arm and gently kissed his forehead. She glanced to Finnrick and was gone. A gentle warm breeze sailed past Caitlyn’s hidden spot, dispelling the frigid 2 a.m. air.

Finnrick chuckled to himself and despite on the verge of collapsing, made his way to the kitchen. He remained there for a few minutes and reemerged with a steaming cup of those instant noodles found at the store. He made his way over to the window and lifted it open. He placed the foam cup on the fire escape and hastily wrote a note which he folded carefully next to the food.

And with his job seemingly done, he made turned off the lights with a flourish of his hand and made his way to his bedroom. He closed the door and did not reappear.

Caitlyn flew over with the few minutes she had left in her wings. She picked up the cup of ramen, contently sighing with its warmth. She grabbed the note and read it aloud, curious what Finnrick wrote.

Caitlyn felt a chill of run down her spine as she read “Hey! Noticed you watching me and given you didn’t try to attack me, I assumed you had your reasons. If you’re trying to track me for your boss, here’s your warning! I will destroy everything they hold dear. You possibly included. If you just were a person or fae that was just curious, have a warm meal on me! It’s cold out so bundle up. Have a good one and don’t touch the window. I am a powerful warder.” F- :)

Caitlyn couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her lips as she saw the cute smiley Finnrick had ended the note with.

She held the cup close as she made her way to street level. Finnrick told her she’d understand in time. She wished she understood now but she shocked to find herself more than willing to find out.

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Being the batmom

Author’s note: Okay so, Batmom here. I want to say that it was posted two days before on my patreon (you can check it out here). I’M also present on ko-fi if you prefer. You can also catch my masterlist here if you want to read more of my things. Please feel free to request or ask any question you’d like. 

Words: 2404

Warning: Fluff, a little of angst (it’s the batman fandom we’re talking about). English is not my first language. 

Dick is eight and orphaned when he's taken in by Bruce Wayne, millionaire and philanthrope of Gotham City. This, by the way, is very different from the circus the poor boy was taken from after his parent's death. Dick is not feeling good about being taken in by that cold and distant man, and even less with the wife he has and is giving him so many warm smiles. That woman is not on Dick's right side, it feels like she wants to take his mother's place, and his mother's corpse isn't even cold yet. He doesn't like that at all. 

When Dick tries to ask why Bruce as taken him in, the man either ignores him or tells him they'll talk about that at another time. And that Wayne's wife is still smiling warmly like his mother used to. He doesn't like it. 

But as weeks go by and months follows, Dick starts seeing the looks (Y/N) is giving her husband when he ignores her. Dick doesn't respond when she speaks to him if he ignores her, then she can't take his mother's place, can she? He can sometimes catch low voices talking about him when he walks in the manor's cold corridors. He'll never admit it, but he still gets lots most of the time. 

''He doesn't like me.'' Your voice says, and behind the nearly closed door, Dick stops walking to listen. 

''He just lost his mother, give him some time, darling.'' Respond Bruce, and Dick can see him rub your back tenderly. He never saw that type of affection between the two of you before.  

''But I've tried everything; he doesn't respond to me, even less look at me anymore. I don't know what else I can do.'' The sob in your voice makes Dick feel guilty, even more so because he knows that he's not supposed to hear this conversation. So he walks away without making sound and tries his best to go back to his room. 

It does take him some more months before he can talk to you without seeing his mother's face instead of yours, but at least he's not ignoring you anymore. That's around that time that he becomes Robin. 

And now he can see you fret. You're nervous when they leave, and you're ecstatic when they come back, he can catch you mutter angrily under your breath at Bruce when they come back with scratches and whatnots. For the first time in months, he feels warm. After it, he feels terrible for thinking of you as a good mother, because he feels like it's insulting his. 

Dick is fifteen when he first gets too close to experiencing death. ANd it's you again that makes him realize that. 

''Get him killed, why don't you!'' You growl in a whisper while bandaging Bruce in your room. ''We just got a kid, don't lose him just yet! I swear your worst than a child yourself.'' 

Dick sit's outside of your room to listen to you. Tonight's mission was particularly hard, and Bruce took a knife in the leg, pushing him out of the fight. So he wanted to thank him properly, and excuse himself. But your voice stopped the teenager from entering. 

''I won't let him get killed, (Y/N)...'' tries to say the man, but you cut him before he finishes his sentence. 

''You shouldn't have let him become your sidekick. It's too dangerous.''

''I had everything under control...'' tries Bruce again. 

''You had nothing -nothing- under your control, Bruce. Richard could have died.'' 

''Dick is a bright kid...''

''Exactly, he's a kid!'' 

Your voice is not a whisper anymore. You're screaming, and Dick feels the same drops in his stomach than when his birth parents were fighting while he was supposed to be sleeping. 

Dick is seventeen when his heart gets broken for the first time. And it's because of Bruce nonetheless. He feels betrayed and angry, and all he can think of is to leave the manor. He can't understand why Bruce would hide such a thing from him, his parent's killer. There's a part of him that wants to find a reasonable way to see that matter, but all the rest just want to punch the millionaire. That's when you come into the portrait. 

Dick comes into your room one night when Bruce is still working. It's been weeks since they both talked last. The boy feels like a child all over again when you just open your arms at him. 

''I'm sorry, Mom.'' It's the first time he calls you that. Your heart races for a little while at the word. But you don't ask questions even if you see his school bag balanced on his shoulder and the suitcase near your door. 

''It's okay, you have some friends with you? Do you need money?'' Is all you ask. You can't really expect him to stay. You can understand the feeling of being betrayed. You've already talked to Bruce about it, but you'll have to do it again, that man is stubborn. 

''Yeah, I just need some time.'' 

''It's okay.'' Dick wiggles out of your embrace, but before he can leave the bedroom, you call for him again. ''If you need anything, call me at any time, okay?''

Your boy just smiles and nods before exiting. 

It's one or two years later that Bruce comes home with, let's say, a surprise. You were consulted before Dick entered the family, but now, apparently, it's just a way to numb Bruce's pain from missing your son. Dick still calls you, and you go around for breakfast most of the time, but Bruce and Dick are not on talking terms just yet. 

The teenager Bruce brings back during the night is the same. He told you tried to steal the Batmobile tyres the week before. Are you feeling safe, not really, but Bruce seems to think he can help the boy, so you figure 'why not.' You're thirty-six now, and the boy doesn't look much older than Dick was when he was adopted. 

As it's what the boy names himself, Jason is broody and, as a harsh, looks in his eyes, but your smile doesn't falter. 

He gets comfortable around you. Comfortable enough to let you play with his hair when he has nightmares, let you hug him before he leaves for school, or for a mission and comfortable enough to sleep with his head on your shoulder while Bruces drives you from a party that the Wayne Enterprise held. Jason his a mama boy, and it shows, but he doesn't take well that you try to give him rules to follow. 

It's Bruce who has more difficulties with that. 

You try to talk to both of them, but each time, it's about the same answers. 

''But, mom, I don't understand why we just arrest hi. He gets out every time! And he ends up hurting more people than the last time.'' 

''Jason, I can understand why you're frustrated about that. But life doesn't work that way. Murder is murder, even if the Joker is a bad person.'' 

Usually, that's enough for Jason to huff and leave the room until dinner. 

When you try talking to Bruce about it, that's when it gets tricky. 

''Maybe you could talk to him about it? He's still a kid after all...'' 

Bruce only shrugged. 

''You think I don't try? He's not mature enough to understand. Dick understood...''

''Dick saw his parents get killed, but he too was angry when you lied about Zucco.'' You're angry now. It's always like this when Bruce talks about Jason, he's not as good as Dick, Dick was better, Dick was this, Dick was that. ''Jason is not Dick, Bruce, they're different.'' You leave your husband to the darkness of the bat-cave, so he can reflect on your words, once again. Sometimes, it's just better that way. 

Contrarily to Richard, Jason is not one to take pictures with you, but you have some that were not made by journalists. They rest with Dick's photos on the principal living room's chimney, where you're always found reading or watching TV or painting and drawing. The one that has big windows and a magnificent view of the garden. 

 That's typically where Jason would find himself after a hard night of vigilanting with Bruce. He's tired, the mission that the Young Justice League just achieved had been both emotionally and physically tiring, and all your boy wants is a hug. That's how Bruce finds both of you in the living room, you, currently watching a TV show and Jason, head buried in your shoulder, practically sitting on your laps while your fingers were playing with a string of his hair. 

Bruce called you on his way back from Ethiopia. And you cried a lot that night and the whole week after too. You can't bring yourself to look at the coffin, he's so small. 

You can't talk to Bruce for a while, the mear thought of being in the same piece as he makes you want to cry. It's not Bruce's fault that Jason died, but he could have prevented it, and as a mother, you need to deal with your child's death alone. 

Bruce's too changes after Jason's death, for example, his nightly missions are becoming even more bloody. That's when Dick calls you. 

''Mom, I really think Bruce needs therapy.'' 

''You and I both, baby bird.'' 

You talk for sometimes before a voice cuts into your conversation. 

''Who's that, Richard?'' 

''That, Mother, would be the next Robin.'' Your heart sinks toward your heels as you rise from your seat. 

''Bruce doesn't want another. I don't want another... accident myself.'' 

There's a moment of silence on the line before Dick sighs. 

''Just give Tim a chance, okay.'' You mumble under your breath, agreeing. 

Tim is different from the others. For one, he has living parents. But that doesn't stop him from calling you his mama. When you ask, he answers that he calls his mother, mom, but you're his mama, because you chose him. He takes Jason's place in the Young Justice League, just like Jasons did with Dick. 

That's until his mother dies and his father falls into a coma. Then Tim comes live with you for some time. Dick comes and goes at the same time, he starts talking to Bruce once more again. They're not as friendly as they once were, but Dick's smile brings back Tim's, so Bruce is happy about it too. Tim is the antidepressant that Bruce needed. Your husband did not see a therapist like you asked, but Black Canary tells you that he is way better than he once was. 

Tim's father comes back from his coma, and he leaves your house to go back with him. Once again, your life becomes grey. Still, Dick and Barbara come once in a while to talk with you, and Alfred is actually very good at playing chess. Then, Tim's father dies too, and he comes back to the manor. You're thirty-seven now. 

''Do you think we'll have children who are not traumatized by death and want to become like you?'' You ask one night as Bruce is getting ready to join you in bed. Even in the bathroom's dim light, you can see the bruises that he seems to collects on his back and arms and legs. Also, his chest seems covered in blue discolorations. 

What you're not aware of are Tim's microchips as installed all around the house and that he's listening. 

''Why, you don't like the lifestyle?'' Question's Bruce back, a smirk on his lips. 

Tim focuses on the sound coming from your bedroom, he's suddenly curious. From the news and the way Dick talks about you, you're a really nice woman, and Tim's experience with you proves it, but he wants to know more about what you think of this lifestyle like Bruce said. 

''You know what I mean...'' you start again, but Tim can hear the smile in your voice. ''I just think that they shouldn't be heroes. They're children... it's a dangerous lifestyle.'' 

Bruce sighs and comes to join you on the bed, but just like you are under the covers, he's on top of them. He kisses your nose gently before rolling to his place next to you. 

''I never forced any of them, you know.'' 

''I know.'' Your hand brushes again, his chest tenderly. '' It's just that I never thought having children would be this dangerous. I just want a normal family...'' 

At that, Bruce only answers by bringing your hand to his mouth and kiss it. 

That night is when Red Hood appeared. 

It was all crazy time between Red Hood and apparently Jason was back, and Tim was angry at Bruce, and now Bruce had a blood-related child of his own? Now that you didn't take it very well. And Bruce couldn't really explain either. But the kid seems to find you interesting. 

First of all, Grayson talk only kindly about you, so of course he's curious, not that he gives much concern about what Dick thinks. Though he's not home often, Jason is always lovely with you, weakness, but at the same time, you do have a gorgeous smile that makes the child want your hugs too. Tim -now, Tim is not Damian's favourite, but he does have some interest. And Tim is head-over-heels about you. 

Most of all, the three boys call you a variant of 'mother,' Barbara is always smiling when she comes home, and you're there, which is not the case when it's only his father, and Alfred had nothing but good things to say about you when he asked. 

Damian's pretty sure that you're the one who made his father agree about the cow he's keeping. But there are still no shreds of evidence of this certitude yet. 

Damian's still trying to see up to where he can push things with you. As of yesterday, when he called you 'Umi' and you didn't react except for answering, ''Yes?'' he still doesn't know if it's because you were the only one in the room so you answered or if it's because you know what that word means. So he'll have to experiment again. 

In short, being the Batmom is being a nervous wreck who likes hugs and is full of patience for both your husband and children. 

[prose-for-hire]

Bad, evil, rotten lovers

Pairing: Spike x vampire!reader

Request: Hey there! Could you write a spike x reader thing, where they have been friends/together since being humans and both have problems to hide their giddy and fluufy relationship from the scoobys and trz to act all dark and tough?

Requested By: Anonymous

A/N: I enjoyed this request - hope you like what I’ve done with it! 

For some reason I always default to season 4, not sure what’s up with that (it’s not even my favourite season) so I challenged myself with this request! We’re set in season 2 today with an ‘evil’ spike/reader.

You were never part of his usual crowd. You had been visiting the area he lived with his mother for only a brief period, staying with a distant relative but William had become instantly smitten with you. You had both got on so beautifully and when he had been missing for a while it had really hurt you, he had been the only one you cared about there. He loved you and you had been fast falling for him, he had even suggested that he would ask permission to begin courting you. So, when he went missing there was a hole in your heart. That was, until he came back for you, tapping on your window one fateful night. And that, as they say, is history. You had been sired and luckily the qualities he loved about you hadn’t changed and you fell in love outside of society’s strict code with neither of you looking back (unless you were reminiscing of course).

That was then, but now you and Spike were walking through a graveyard in Sunnydale. You had maintained a reluctant truce with the Scoobies to get rid of Angelus, secretly you liked the strange little group of kids but you would never tell them, or Spike. Angelus was starting to annoy you and your love, he had gotten into the whole Slayer killing, which was Spike’s thing. All that seemed to calm him down from his irritation was you, he really loved you which was lucky because you matched this love. You had taken to walking aimlessly at night, to get out of the mansion and strengthen Spike’s legs after being stuck in his wheelchair in front of Angelus. Your late night walks were where you could both discuss your frustration and maybe kiss a little between the gravestones. He had draped his leather duster over your shoulders, knowing you weren’t affected by the cold but wanting you to have it.

He had paused to gaze at you softly under the moonlight, the look he had given you all those decades ago. The first time you met at a society function. He had been so earnest back then, almost shy, now he was only like that with you alone. You liked it this way – you got the best of him. You had both apparently been reminded of the same thing, as he spoke his thoughts out loud.

“I remember practicing over and over, reciting long lines of wanting before I asked…” he referred to the night he asked you to be his.

“Sweetie! Your poetry still makes me blush, and I have no circulation!” You grinned at him as he appeared to duck his head slightly and you embraced him in a hug.

“Please don’t pull away, pet… not yet” he mumbled to you, as you started to move, but your embrace was unfortunately cut short as you both heard an almost inaudible whisper.

“Poetry?” Buffy and Xander had mouthed in confusion, both looking at each other. Xander raised an eyebrow, holding up a cross as you started to walk closer to them. This has to be a trick right? You were both evil and evil doesn’t write poetry or have cute pet names… do they? Buffy got in a stance ready to fight as you both finally noticed them.

“Well, well if it isn’t Betty the vampire layer” Spike smirked as you cackled, making sure to allow your most menacing scowl for the slayer.

“You know how many Slayers Spike’s killed? Two, soon to be three isn’t that right?” You bragged as Spike nodded along.

“Currently, you’re working with us though, sweetie” Buffy mocked. You both postured, starting to speak over each other in your haste to maintain just how bad you both were. You finally stopped as the slayer raised an eyebrow and started tapping her toe as if she were bored of your very evil tales.

Eventually Buffy and the boy walked away, having set your plan out for later. You both walked on, hand-in-hand, through another graveyard. Eventually you slipped your hand from his, a sparkle in your eye as you plotted. As spike was explaining something, he didn’t notice you slip away and hide behind a gravestone waiting to see how long it would take him to notice. He only noticed when he heard a soft giggle from behind one of the gravestones and his face melted as he realised. He wouldn’t admit it, but he enjoyed your impromptu games of hide-and-seek amongst the gravestones. He started to prowl through the stones, looking for any sign of you. He softly narrated where he was going, to see if he could make you giggle and give yourself away.

“Come here… big bad’s gonna eat… you… up” he whirled around at the last word, eyes locking with yours as you squealed and he scooped you up before you could run.

“You found me!” You cheered as he pulled you by your middle and held you to him.

“I’ll always find you, pet” He said, cupping your cheek softly. It was as if he were staring into your soul, even though neither of you had one. His cold blue eyes sparkled as you stared back, a smile on your lips. You could recall it all, you wouldn’t share the rest of your un-life with anyone else.

“Sweet William, you always know the right things to say to me!” You matched his soft almost-smile as he leaned into you, your lips meeting in small, soft kisses that turned slow and sweet. Your hands ran through his bleached hair as you both smiled into the kiss, reluctantly cutting it short. He was about to carrying on walking but you grabbed his shirt sleeve, “Wait! One more kiss, for luck!” you asked enthusiastically, and he smiled, pulling you in softly once more. Willow walked over to you, but neither of you were really paying attention to her, she must have gotten separated from the others. The young girl was too trusting, having spoken to you more than once without so much as a stake for protection. A small cough interrupted your kiss, she was clearing their throat and you both jumped in surprise before slowly turning to see Willow watching you both. Spike coughed, trying to show he hadn’t just jumped and almost yelped in shock at the tiny human.

“What do you want, little red? Never heard of the things that go bump in the night?”

“Y-yeah, we’re gonna eat you up after we all get rid of Angelus” you insisted. The girls pulse barely changed and you and Spike looked at each other. Willow wasn’t convinced you both were as bad as you say you were, especially since the truce. The girl was in a fluffy pink jumper, she looked like a marshmallow and her personality appeared to match the ensemble. You and Spike looked at each other, growling at her before deciding to head back before the sun rose.

Back at the mansion, you were sat on Spike’s lap as he wheeled you both into the room. He was still keeping up the pretence that his legs weren’t working. You were sitting sideways on his lap and you looped your arms around his neck, snuggling into his chest as he stopped in the centre of the room.

“I’ve got a surprise for you!” You smiled, “Close your eyes!”

“Love-” he started, but did it anyway, for you. 

“Hold your hand out, palm up” You asked and when he closed his eyes and did it, you grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers with his with a wide grin. He peeked and looked down at your hand and smiled, moving your entwined hands up to his lips so he could kiss the back of your hand. You giggled and he smiled that smile that was only for you.

“I’ve always liked the way your hand fits in mine, pet” You both got lost in each other’s eyes, a soft smile as your hands held onto each other. He was about to lean in and kiss your forehead when a voice startled you both.

“H-has anybody told you that you’re kinda sweet together?” A small voice interrupted from the corner. You almost jumped, you had forgotten that spike had grabbed the little witch as your tasty snack for later when the Slayer inevitably double-crossed you both. She was tied up in the corner and you had forgotten. Even spike looked a little sheepish that you had been caught being so soft together.

“We’re not sweet!”

“We are evil, nasty creatures of the night!” Spike pointed threateningly at Willow, wheeling himself towards her as you got up from his lap.

“We’re bad! Rotten to our core!” You insisted, Spike had changed into his vamp face to prove your points. She just looked away and moved further into the corner.

“You couldn’t even dream of the horrible things that we’ve done!” You shouted, frowning, your eyes flashing amber, “The terrors that we have inflicted on entire cities!”

“Y-yeah you are evil, you’re j-just sweet to each other” she corrected herself. You and Spike gazed at each other before you were snapped out of it once more.

“Quit playing with your food, the Slayer’s here!” Angelus ordered to you both from another room. You both looked at each other, shrugged and grabbed Willow along too. This was going to be interesting.

[cuttoothed]

For @themagnuswriters Hurt Comfort Week, Day 1: Self Worth Issues, Pretend, Shaky Hands.

This is set between 169 and 170, and is definitely more hurt than comfort. It was interesting to imagine Martin coming out of the Desolation in a mindset that makes him particularly vulnerable to the Lonely right afterwards. Note that I do not necessarily agree with any or all of Martin’s opinions here. 

Includes mention of childhood neglect/abuse, burn injuries, and canon-typical unpleasantness. 

*

Martin makes the tea. 

It’s never cold, in the stretches between the domains. Never hot or windy or rainy, never frightening. Never much of anything at all, except gray earth crunching underfoot, the dust that gets everywhere. Dead space, Martin’s come to think of it. 

His hands are shaking as he lights the gas stove; there’s soot on his fingers, patches of reddened, blistered skin on his forearms that are already fading to pink. Almost as if he’d never been burned at all. 

Martin tucks the web-pattern lighter back into the pocket of Jon’s backpack. He wonders, that Jon never seems to wonder about that lighter. Martin’s thought about losing it, more than once, letting it be buried in the gray earth and dust. But if it was dangerous, Jon would know—he of all people would have to know. And they don’t have another lighter.  

He fills the kettle from a bottle of water. Neither of them get thirsty, and though Martin occasionally takes a swig to rinse the dust out of his mouth—and smoke, more recently—they still have plenty left. More than they probably should, if Martin was keeping track of the number of swigs, the cups of tea. He doesn’t, though; it’s really not worth worrying about. Not when everything is worrying.

Martin glances over at Jon as the small, stainless steel kettle starts to heat. He’s sitting with his knees drawn in and his arms curled around them, almost childlike. There’s a line that sketches itself between his eyebrows when he’s concentrating, and he’s wearing it now, though he appears to be staring into space. Probably focused on some horror Martin’s not aware of and couldn’t do anything about in any case. 

Jon didn’t want to stop, after they left the tenement behind, but he agreed because Martin wanted to. Jon never wants to stop, and Martin can’t tell if it’s from impatience to reach the Archives, or from fear of what might happen the longer he spends in this world. Or if that’s just Martin projecting his own anxieties.

He puts teabags into the two mugs he brought; one has pictures of cartoon kittens on it, the other has the words “World’s Greatest Grandma”, and which one he gives Jon depends on his demeanor. Today looks like a kittens day. Jon likes his tea strong—and with an obscene amount of milk back when milk was a thing that existed—so Martin gives his a few extra stirs and leaves the teabag in when he hands it over. Jon takes it with a quick smile, though he doesn’t drink it immediately, just holds it in both hands. Martin takes a drink from his own tea, ignoring the faint bitterness.

“Be nice if we had some biscuits,” he says. “I’d kill for a bourbon right about now.”

Jon doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then, dolefully:

“Chocolate hobnobs.” 

Martin gives him an encouraging grin. He’s been so quiet since they left the Desolation, withdrawn, and Martin hoped that a cup of tea and a sit down would help. Offer a little comfort, at least. 

There are a lot of things Martin wants to talk about. About why Jon waited so long to tell him where they were going. Why he didn’t go after Arthur Nolan. Whether Martin slapping him was okay under the circumstances because he’s really not sure that it was. Whether killing Jude Perry felt good. About all the people they apparently didn’t help at all, and what that means for their Kill Bill quest. He’s not going to bring any of that up now, though, not until Jon’s a bit more himself. He’s going to pretend that everything’s fine, for a while at least, because everything will be fine once they have a chance to talk about it. Just...not now.

Martin wishes he could say that he was acting purely out of love, but he knows this is as much about self-preservation as anything else. He’s listened to the recording Jon made back in the cabin, with its talk of rotten sanctuaries and chrysalises. He’s not blind to what this world is doing to Jon, what it’s forcing on him, what the Eye wants him to feel and to be. If he loses himself, if Martin loses him—

He’s always been selfish, is the problem. Always demanded too much. Even when he was a kid, even though he knew how much his mum was struggling, he resented it all. Resented not having new trainers and pocket money like other kids in his class. Resented her for the days she couldn’t get out of bed and he had to stay home from school. For the times she got stressed and lost her temper, even though it wasn’t her fault. 

Love is selfless, everyone says, it doesn’t expect anything in return. If Martin could love selflessly, he wouldn’t calculate the right time for tea in order to drag Jon back towards normalcy. He wouldn’t look at the man he loves as a problem to be solved, to be handled, given a different tea mug depending on his mood. His own fingers are still shaking around ‘World’s Greatest Grandma’, and he clenches them tight as the tea slops over the rim. Jon’s eyes dart to his hands.

“How are the burns?” he asks quietly. 

“Almost gone,” Martin tells him, and they almost are, but he’ll never forget how it felt getting them. 

“Good,” says Jon, “I—I knew they would be, but still, it’s...good.”

Jon lifts his mug to his lips and takes a noisy drink, because he always does when the tea is hot and he’s too impatient to wait. Martin loves him so much it hurts, and even that is horribly selfish. Because they’re going to save the world, but in Martin’s mind there’s a big red asterisk next to that mental imperative that reads: As Long As I Don’t Lose Jon. He knows it’s monstrous, valuing one person’s life over the whole world, but there it is. 

There it is. 

They don’t talk much more as they finish their tea, but by the time it’s gone Jon looks less distant. He even helps Martin rinse out the mugs with some more of their maybe-infinite water supply, and hoists his backpack with a determined expression. 

“Right,” he says, “Time to move on, then?”

Martin thinks of all those things he wants to talk about, questions and doubts and fears, and pushes them down. Later, he thinks; let them just pretend things are fine for a while longer. His hands aren’t shaking anymore, even, and the burns are almost entirely gone. 

“Let’s go,” he agrees, hefting his own pack. Jon smiles at him and reaches across to grasp his hand briefly; Martin squeezes back, and despite everything, his heart feels like it might burst with love for this man. 

They start walking, the gray earth crunching underfoot, dust sifting gently down, getting everywhere. The air is hazy with it, Martin thinks, except it’s not dust. It’s cold and damp and clinging. Not dust; fog. Jon is walking right beside him, but Martin can scarcely make him out.

In the distance, he thinks he sees a house.