#I apologize for the sad dewis hours

[that-soccer-guru]

hi. me again. the one who said fruity😭. new fan. anyways. i discovered sum today. which you prolly already knew but idk. DID YOU KNOW KRISTIE AND TIERNA ARE FRUITY

I mean.... Yeah... I had a thought or two about it........

[hawkinshighdropout]

Stay The Night?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: After a long evening of fighting with your parents, you're late for school and missing from some classes. Your best friend Eddie notices you're not about and takes care of you once he finds you, offering you a place to stay to clear your head.

Warnings: No warnings, this is purely fluff/pure content. Unless you count a couple of curse words as needing a warning? Idk, I haven’t written fanfics in like 8 years so I’m a little rusty…

Note/Request: Requested by anonymous “Could you write a fanfic where you're just friends with eddie but he let's you stay at his trailer when you have nowhere to stay after a bad argument with your parents, you share a bed, and wake up in the night cuddling, eddie has a boner and hes like apologizing, and then whatever happens, please, you're just such a good writer”

Bonus: I feel like this could do with a part 2? It was just getting good when I wanted to start writing smut but saw how long it was and thought y'all wouldn't read it. I didn't want this to be like 6k words right off the bat... If you horny mother f-ers want a part 2 where smut ensues, please let me know? <3

Word Count: 2.6k

Send me prompts to write about!

You were a straight A student, destined for the college of your dreams, on multiple after school curriculum clubs and always on time… So when you didn’t show up for your first class of the day, your friends grew worried about you. It’s not like you to ghost, and certainly not like you to not show up, your friends spent the first hour or so in the morning between classes passing notes and asking around to find if anyone had seen you.

To your defence, you had had the evening from hell, and quite the eventful morning to follow it. It had all started due to your ‘little freak friend,’ as your parents to lovingly phrased it, spending ‘too much time’ around you. Your fashion sense had slowly shifted to something a little more edgy, your music taste was more diverse thanks to Eddie, and you started going out more on weekends. It was all harmless, and nothing was affecting your behaviour or work ethic, so you didn’t see the problem. Your parents didn’t see it that way, though. They treated him like he was the devil, corrupting their precious babygirl in ways unspoken, it was all bullshit. He had made you feel loved, cared for, supported. Him and his little gang of monsters (Hellfire Club) had given you a purpose and a sense of belonging outside the four walls of your home in Hawkins.

You’re not sure what straw broke the camel’s back, but something triggered your parents to unleash World War 3 the second you got home last night, in included a lot of screaming, arguing, name calling… A slap or two from your mother which you fought the urge to retaliate. You weren’t like them; you’d never sink that low. Hours upon hours of fighting and arguing, accusations being thrown around like verbal knives, until you cried yourself to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

Waking up was a real struggle this morning, having to face your puffy eyed self in the mirror as you brushed your hair and teeth, doing your best to keep down the sickness you felt inside from both the stress and the exhaustion. You were running late for school, having missed the bus earlier, which brought on a whole new wave of anger from your parents. Despite the fact your parents both have full time jobs and fancy cars, and they both work in the direction of your school, they refused to give you a ride. Meaning you had to walk from the upper side of Hawkins, all the way down to the front gates of your school, making you even later than intended. It was just before lunch when you got into Hawkins High, skin a little dewy from the sweat, only making your face look worse whilst adding to the already existing puffy eyes and sad smile.

You wandered up to the front desk to explain where you had been and why your parents hadn’t told the school about your whereabouts. Lucky for you, you were let off with just a warning, the only mercy you had been granted in about twenty-four hours. Thanking the school receptionist, you make a quick stop to your locker to drop off your things before moping down to the cafeteria, getting lost in the crowd who all piled in for their food. You had forgotten your lunch, sigh. What else could go wrong today? Folding your arms and making your way over to the Hellfire Club table, waiting somewhat patiently for the gang to roll in, keeping your head down as to not draw too much attention to yourself.

“Well, well, well… Look who decided to show up! Little Miss Perfect has finally blessed us with her presence. What happened to you, sweetheart? Too busy out car shopping with Daddy Dearest to attend algebra, hm?” Eddie joked, patting you on the back whilst letting out a soft laugh. Normally a line like that would have earned him an eye roll and jab in the chest, but today it was met with silence.

“Hey… Are you okay?” He asks quietly whilst the other dudes start to sit in their allocated seats around you, he could feel the tension from you and that worried him. Allowing yourself to slowly look up in his direction, your sad eyes meeting his own concerned ones, all it took was one look from him to crack you. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and one dripping down your cheek as you sniffle, alarming Eddie as he wasn’t used to seeing you like this.

“Nope, not here you don’t. C’mon, let’s go.” Eddie mumbled comfortingly to you, not wanting anyone to see you cry as you both knew someone would use that against you. He wouldn’t let that happen. Taking your hand and guiding you up from your seat, both of you stood as he tangled his fingers in your own for support. Eddie quickly mumbled something into Dustin’s ear before patting him on the shoulder and easing you out of the lunchroom towards the empty halls, taking a quick look around before he tugged you into the girls’ bathroom.

By this point your tears were already freely falling, Eddie doing his best to listen and comfort you as you recalled the events of the last couple of days. He was hurt and pissed off. Not because your parents were so rude about him, but because they disrespected you. His only focus was the fact you were hurting, and he needed to do something about it, he was incredibly protective of those in his group, and that wasn’t going to slide with him.

“Shit, Y/L/N… Hey, okay, how about this? You can come and stay with me tonight, yeah? Your parents already are pissed at you, there’s no point going back there when they’re acting like this, let them cool off and give yourself a break, yeah? I’ll take the couch; you can have my bed… My Uncle won’t even be back until morning anyway, so it won’t be weird, even though he loves you.”

All you did was nod in response, grateful to have such a wonderful person in your life, further solidifying the fact that your parents were the problem. How could they hate someone so wonderful? Someone who always has your best interest at heart and wants to keep you happy. It took a couple minutes of him giving handing you tissues to help dry your tears, telling you to splash cold water on your face as it brings down the redness and puffiness, even him jumping and softly yelling at the girls screaming when they entered the bathroom to see the tall, tatted man in the girl’s room before you were ready to face the day.

“Okay, Princess. Let’s do this!” Eddie announced with a bright smile, taking your hand once again and leading you out of the bathroom. This time? You were thankfully full of giggles rather than tears.

-----

“Home Sweet Home” Eddie sighed, pulling open the door to his trailer and gesturing for you to enter ahead of him, “M’Lady” he chuckles whilst you wander in ahead, closely following behind you to shut the door on you both.

Glancing around the place, you notice there’s a few cigarette stumps in the ashtray and a slightly overflowing bin in the corner, but not as many shirts in the laundry pile as you’d usually expect. You’ve been here many times before, and this was somehow the cleanest you had seen it.

“Didn’t realise the Queen was coming to town, Ed…” you mocked him fondly, to which he immediately pulled out his smug smile and raised his brows in your direction, clearly amused.

“Well, someone’s feeling better, hm?” he visibly relaxed when he realised you were more at ease whilst alone with him. Knowing that it would only be a matter of time before you’re both wrestling and mocking each other once again, he brought you in for a warm embrace. It took you a little by surprise. Not that Eddie wasn’t affectionate or anything, he was, it just was usually you or someone from your squad initiating it first. You didn’t care about that right now though, allowing yourself to slump against him as his hug took the weight of the world off your shoulders, at least for a moment. Pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head before he pulled away from you, holding your cheeks in his hands whilst he scanned your face for a reaction. The smile on your face making him beam with joy, you were soon returning to your old self.

“There’s that pretty smile…” he mumbled, kissing your forehead before stepping away and wandering over to the cupboards in search of food. “Look, I know you didn’t eat lunch, but I didn’t really think in advance so like, I can offer you cereal or… cereal…” he shoots an apologetic smile.

“Cereal works!” you announce, wandering over to his small dinner table. Watching as he poured you both a bowl of cereal each, running out of milk after filling his bowl to which he rolled his eyes, cursed ‘son of a bitch’ under his breath before swapping bowls with you to ensure you got at least the most viable thing to a “proper meal” he could offer you.

You used the spoon to slowly eat your bowl, Eddie opting to use his hands and just shove a handful into his mouth at a time. What did he care? Its not like he had to worry about spilling his milk. Small talk ensued whilst you sat and ate together, him throwing the bowls into the sink for another day once you’d finished. Both of you residing to the couch for the rest of the evening, Eddie would smoke a couple cigarettes, even a joint or two, and you would happily sit at the doorstep whenever he went outside to smoke as he insisted on not giving you a second-hand high or headache from the fumes.  

It's only when you begun to yawn that he looked at the time on his watch and announced it was time for bed, you sleepily nodded in agreement as the two of you wander towards his small bedroom. He cleaned up the best he could, going through his piles of laundry and sniffing each and every item until he found a shirt clean enough for you to wear to bed. Placing them on top of the sheets for you whilst he disappeared out of the room to give you privacy, happily slipping back into the room once you declare you were decent.

Dressed in his Metallica shirt and your underwear, you climbed into bed under the covers whilst he leant against the doorway with his arms folded, watching you as you slipped into the warmth of the sheets. Somewhere in this process he had changed into just his boxers, clothes you can only assume were cast around the living room like the rest of his things. Smiling down at you, he then gestures to the hallway and starts to back out of the room, shutting off the light in the process.

“I’ll be on the couch if you need me, okay?” he said softly, causing you to sit up a little and frown in his direction.

“Can you… Can you stay, please?” you whisper. You were a big girl, you weren’t scared of the dark or anything like that, you just found Eddie to be so comforting and after the day you had? You didn’t want to be alone.

“You sure?” he asks, your nodding response was all it took for him to shut the door and then slip into the bed beside you. Laying on his back and draping his arm around your shoulders, brushing his ring clad fingers up and down your shoulder comfortingly as you curled up against his chest. Eyes closing almost immediately as he hummed under his breath, lulling you to sleep in what felt like seconds.

“Goodnight, Sleepyhead” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before eventually passing out not long after.

----

The flush of the bathroom toilet startled him awake, not knowing where he was, who was around and why appliances were flushing when no one was supposed to be home. It’s only when your exhausted little face peeked back into the room that he settled down and everything clicked into place.

“Jesus H Christ, you scared me.” He breathed.

“Me? Scare you? C’mon now…” you laugh, finding it hard to believe that someone as tough and brave as Eddie would be startled by a small girl just going to the bathroom.

Climbing back into his bed, you took mere seconds before cuddling up against him once more. Arm wrapped around his middle whilst he wrapped his arms around your shoulders with a tight squeeze. Face to face this time, in the centre of the bed whilst your bodies became like one in the middle.

“Eddie?” you mumble against his chest.

“Yeah, babe?” he mumbled back; face tucked into your hair.

“Please tell me that isn’t your dick pressed up against my thigh…” you whine.

“I… didn’t know you could feel that, shit. Sorry. In my defence, it happens on its own, I… yeah, sorry!” he pulled back from you, grabbing more of the covers to make a layer across his hard dick, not wanting to make this situation any worse for you both.

“Oh really? And here I was thinking I was so irresistible that you just couldn’t help yourself around me, even in your sleep.” You teased, shoving him playfully in the side, glancing over to see his cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

“I mean… you are kinda hot in my shirt, but—” he stopped himself finishing that sentence, you let out a pool of laughter whilst grabbing the pillow and smacking him fondly in the chest.

“Oh, shut up! Bullshit” you declare, grinning to yourself as you continue to lightly whack him with the fluffy weapon.

“It’s not bullshit! You’re hot in my clothes, Jesus Christ. Can we change the subject now?!” he’s flustered you can tell, his words were honest but his execution was like that of a nervous child.

You finally decide to stop hitting him with the pillow, brow raised in question and head tilted slightly to the side as you search his expression for any hint of a lie, voice soft. “Wait, really?”

Watching as he shrugs his shoulders in defeat and nods his head. “Yeah, really… Sorry if that makes things weird. I can like, I can go back to the couch?” he offers in a mild panic, already in the process of moving to leave the room.

Grabbing his bicep to stop him, he looks down at you with a confused look on his face. Shaking your head from side to side, your voice soft and shy as you ask for him to stay. Once he made sure that was really what you wanted, he sunk back into the sheets with the covers still hiding him from the waist down.

“So… The shirt, hm?” you snort playfully, amused that something as simple as you wearing his clothes would get him going, to which he’s blushing and shrugging his shoulders in response.

“I hate you.” He jokes, grabbing the same pillow from before and this time using it to smack you in the chest, both of you falling into pits of laughter as the tension is quickly dissipated.

[highdramas]

steady now | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮��𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, mention of death? sort of? mention of the blip mostly, some angst, references to sexxxx babie

word count: 4.3k wowie

summary: bucky is not the only one with amends to make.

note: here’s another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like! i’m extremely proud of this part so i really hope that you all enjoy it as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it <3

enjoy! <3

there was once a time where you loved california.

there was once a time where you had a boyfriend with an easy smile and charming demeanor and a family in ventura. his name was felix, and you always told people that he could make anyone fall in love with him with nothing but that stupid smile of him-- of course, you never said how that upset you. you never said how it hurt when the waitress looked at him with dazzling eyes and how he seemed to relish in the attention.

you never voiced how he seemed to eventually bore of the attention that you gave him. you never voiced the way that you wished he would look at you with those dazzling eyes and give you that breezy laughter and that look that said i have you in the palm of my hand.

he did. he didn’t need to give you that look to know that.

sometimes, you wonder if he felt any sort of relief after the blip. you wonder if when you dusted right before him, if he felt like he won in some sick way. of course, you know that he would never admit that. he would never make that known to anyone. maybe even himself. but subconsciously… you wonder if you were simply an accessory that was worn out of convenience, and if your fading from reality was the biggest convenience at all.

it’s sick. you know it’s sick, and likely not true. but still. you wonder.

when you returned, the first thing that you did when you got your hands on a cell phone was call him. you called him and you cried and you said that you were okay, you were here. you asked him what the hell happened. you asked him if it had really been five years.

you heard a voice in the background. it was feminine, light, airy. the voice of a fairy. you’ll never forget hearing that voice. you learned later that she was his fiance.

you’ll never forget the sort of heartbreak that you felt. it was visceral. the knowing-- the knowing that it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anything that you did. it was merely the absence of you. you still wonder how long he mourned. you wonder how long it took. you saw him only a handful of times after you returned. he had cried, and you had stared, unsure what to say.

how do you apologize for fading from existence?

that was the first time you saw him. the second was worse.

the second, you were angry. you were angry and you lashed out. what was supposed to be an easy dinner turned into an explosion of tears and fury, the words this isn’t fair and what was i supposed to do? wait for you? and so desperately you had wanted to say yes. you wanted to say that you wished he had held out hope, that he stayed up and dreamt of you and that he was devoted.

it was a selfish thought. he had told you politely to not contact him again.

you had learned that he had moved back to ventura with his fairy girlfriend from some casual facebook stalking. they bought a house on the coast. they’re planning a wedding.. she is beautiful, and you noticed something from the pictures you see of them together right away. he looks at her not like he was charming her, but like she was charming him.

that’s what made you realize he was never yours to begin with.

now, you’re in california again. now, bucky sits beside you and he drives and you control the music. now, he looks at you like you have hung the stars in the sky and propped up the moon. and you look at him the same way.

bucky has amends to make, but so do you.

when he reaches over and places his hand on your thigh, you smile. you place your hand over his and you squeeze. you’d insisted that you two rent a convertible, and though he rolled his eyes, he obliged. you drive down the pch and it is april and the sun is warm and inviting but not abrasive. he wears sunglasses and he doesn’t wear the gloves. he wears a short sleeved shirt.

it’s enough to make you smile and lay your hand back against the seat and make you think: everything happened just the way it should.

bucky is here to extend his amends to the chaplin family. well… really, he’s here to set them up with the CIA. they’ve been hydra sympathizers for years.

you, on the other hand, are here to extend amends of your own.

bucky knows. bucky knows and he watched you recall the story with tears blurring your vision. you would hiccup and say, “i’m sorry. i’m not sad over him, not anymore. i’m just sad that i could be forgotten so easily.”

he had held your face in his hands and he swiped at your tears and he said, “you’re impossible to forget.”

at first, when you brought up coming with him, he had been hesitant. his endeavors with the amends and with sam, he tends to like keeping separate. you get it. you know he doesn’t want to put you anywhere near the danger that he encounters, even if that maddens you. but then, your face fell and you held out the wedding invitation that had arrived in your mailbox. “i want to go.”

bucky takes it and he studies it and he clenches his jaw. he looks at you through his lashes. “i’m going with you.”

now, the wedding is in three days. you wonder if he was surprise when you sent in your rsvp marked yes. you were surprised that he invited you at all.

once, you remember him saying to you, “sometimes, you have to extend olive branches. you’re too damn stubborn for your own good.”

this is your olive branch.

bucky squeezes your thigh and his thumb makes small circles and it instills a calm in you that you haven’t felt since you stepped foot on the plane. he glances over at you. “we don’t have to go.” this isn’t the first time that he’s said this. “we can stay in our hotel all week. i’m sure we can find something to do.”

your jaw drops and you look over at him and he has that smug look on his face. it’s been nice, watching him slip into ease with you. “you are such a pig.”

“i’m just saying, we have options.”

you laugh and you swat his hand away. he grins and he places it on the head rest, his fingers idly playing with a few strands of your hair that blow in the wind as he drives. you pull up to the hotel and you check in and bucky carries all of your bags, which you try to object, but he simply does not care. you fall back onto the mattress and he follows suit and he presses his lips to yours, presses them to your pulse point, your jaw. he whispers against your skin that you are beautiful. he whispers against your skin that you’re an angel.

angel. he always calls you that.

hours pass and you spend most of them beneath bucky, breathless. eventually it is the middle of the night and you have done nothing but fuck and you’ll be the first one to admit that they were hours well spent. he’s propped up on an elbow and he looks down at you, dewy and heavy lidded. “why’d you want to come out here? to the wedding?”

you can’t help but laugh. “that’s what you want to talk about right now?”

he blushes, moves to hide his face, but you beam and you place your hand on the side of his face. you push yourself up and sit criss cross, holding the sheet to your body, facing him. he follows suit.

the two of you do this back home. whether you’re sitting on the living room floor or in bed. it’s easier to talk in the dark, bucky once said. you’d never forgotten. so, this became a sort of unspoken ritual. you would sit with your knees brushing and you would talk and you would laugh and you never wanted this to change.

“i guess i don’t know why i wanted to come.” you reach for his hand and he offers it to you. you run your fingers along the golden grooves, and you swear that you see the hairs on his opposite arm begin to stand up. “i didn’t want to be seen as the bitter ex. i hate-- i hate being perceived. you know? like, i can’t control how anyone views me. i can’t control them thinking i’m crazy or irrational. but… they don’t know anything at all.” bucky’s eyes never leave you. “i wanted to come because i feel like i’m ready to face it. the truth of it. i don’t feel fearful of it all. i used to feel so… gross. gross about how i reacted and how i felt. i felt so selfish. but now…” you can’t help but smile a little bit and you touch the place on his chest where his heart lies in his ribcage. “i’m glad for it. all of it. it’s stupid, but… it brought me here.” you lean your palm into his chest just slightly more. he covers your hand with his and he pulls you in, your hand splayed out on him.

bucky is softening before you. so often you are the one who offers an ear and a comforting touch, but he is happy to repay the favor whenever you need it. “you’re too strong all the time.” his words are definitive, with no room for arguing. “you were hurting. you’re allowed to hurt. you didn’t have a choice in missing out on five years while the world went on without you.”

of course, you know he’s right, but it just feels good to hear it. it feels good to hear it from him. “and he was an asshole.” bucky’s jaw sets. “he had five years to mourn you and your relationship. he barely gave you a month. what sort of guy does that? to a girl he loved?” he shakes his head, as if shaking the thought from his person. “if that were me, i would’ve…”

you watch as he trails off. he looks down and away. you gently take his face and move it up, getting him to look at you again. he gives you this smile that is equal parts sorrow and loving, and you wish you could take away all his pain. “i’d mourn you for life. and i… if i got the chance to have you again? i’d--”

“bucky.” you cut him off smoothly and you shake your head. “that won’t happen.”

he smiles. “i know.” he pushes your hair back and his hand rests on the back of your neck. “i just can’t imagine someone having you and not--” he shakes his head. “he’s a fool.”

gently, your hands lay on his knees and you lean forward. “you asked why i wanted to come,” you whisper, your lips nearly touching his. “i wanted to come because i want to thank him.” you press your lips against his, and his hand goes to splay on your back, pulling you in nearer and nearer. “he recommended the apartment building.”

bucky grins and you connect in every possible place. you roll between the sheets once more and eventually, sleep overtakes you.

the days leading up to the wedding pass by in a relative blur. bucky goes to make his amends and though you offer to come, he shakes his head. “i’ll be quick,” is his promise, and he keeps good on it. he’s gone barely two hours.

you spend time on the beach and sight seeing. you don’t know if you’ve ever seen bucky this… relaxed. yes, he’s always slightly more alert than your average citizen, but you will never fault him for that. you go and get ice cream and you sit on a little bench and bucky stares at you. “what?” you asked and you raise your brows. “something on my face?”

“actually, yes.” he reaches out and swipes your bottom lip, coming back with some strawberry ice cream on his thumb. he pops it into his mouth and it makes your heart plummet to your stomach. “yum.”

you all but drag him back to your hotel.

finally, it is the day of the wedding.

bucky has been ready for hours. he likes unbearably handsome-- you’d gone with him to a shop in new york and had helped him pick out some new slacks and a nice fitting shirt. he had chuckled at the way that the pants hit his ankles and said, “it’s definitely not the forties anymore.”

you had picked out a sage green silk dress, and you smooth it out in the mirror, tilting your head to the side as you looked at yourself. bucky approaches you from behind and you’re so stuck in your own head that you hardly notice him until his hands are on you. they go to your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles into tense muscles with his thumbs. “you look beautiful, doll.” he leans forward and he presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder, which makes you smile, because it’s so him. “i wanna kiss you but i don’t want to mess up your makeup.”

“like that’s ever stopped you before.”

“i’m a gentleman.”

a smirk works its way onto your face and some of the nervous, fluttering monarchs in your stomach have begun to dissipate. you turn and he gently holds your face, examining it. he opens his mouth to say something, laughs, and closes it. “i don’t even know how…” he clears his throat. you swear that tears prick at his eyes. “i don’t even know how to say how much… how perfect you are. i’ll never be able to say it properly.”

everything about james buchanan barnes makes you melt, and this is no different. you sigh and you lean your body against his, and he holds you ever close. “thank you for coming with me,” you whisper into the skin of his neck. “i needed you here.”

he holds the back of your head carefully. “i’d follow you anywhere, doll.” he pulls back and his hand holds your face, and the vibranium is like a kiss to your cheek. “may i kiss you?”

your lips part and you nod-- and he takes his time kissing you. he kisses you long and tender, making sure that you feel everything. sometimes you think that this is easier than talking for him-- this is the way that he can show you how perfect he finds you. it’s better than any words he could string together.

the ride to the venue is somewhat of a blur. bucky doesn’t take his hand off of you-- it’s constantly holding yours. from the car to the walk inside to taking your seats-- you can feel the eyes that are glued to you, but you can feel bucky’s hand in yours more. you can hear the muffled whispers of gossiping friends and family, but you hear bucky’s murmured complaints louder, and they make you laugh.

felix is at the altar already. he’s talking with a groomsman and he laughs at something and you smile a bit. he looks happy, you think. bucky’s arm is slung across the back of your chair and his fingers trail up and down your shoulder, his eyes fixed on you.

you turn to look at him, too. you lay your hand on his knee and your smile says your thanks over and over and over again. bucky’s eyes flick to the altar, and he sees that you’ve finally been noticed. felix may be looking at you, but you will never know. you are looking at bucky.

the ceremony is pretty. bucky’s bored, you think-- that thought is enough to make you chuckle. felix’s fairy girlfriend is exactly what you gathered from the pictures-- she is energetic and kind, she is sweet and beautiful. the more you think, the more you watch the way that felix looks at her, the lighter you feel.

a part of you had feared that you would never get over him. that you would never get over the what if. possibilities tended to haunt you, but now, being here… you had known for a long time that not only had you gotten over him, you had found something so much better than what you had. but it’s the thought that thrums through you that you were not expecting.

you can see this for yourself. one day. bucky at an altar in a suit, you in white.

you smile to yourself in your seat. bucky looks over at you. you look over at him, just for a moment. your heart feels full.

felix begins his vows. “carly,” he begins and he clears his throat. you can tell that he’s already getting emotional. “never did i once expect to find you. never did i expect to find someone who fit with me so… completely.” you watch as his hands shake as he holds the piece of paper. “but i did. and i’m so lucky it was you.”

his vows go on, and they are beautiful. through it all, you can sense bucky beside you, entirely attentive to you.

the reception is on the beach. the sun is setting, and it is stunning. the food is good and every gives speeches and toasts and you’ve been placed at a table with some friends that both you and felix had known. of course, when shit hit the fan with you and felix, you hadn’t exactly kept in touch, but they’re kind nevertheless. some recognize bucky, and the questions they ask make you cringe. “so… winter soldier,” one of them, kya, begins. “you actually did all of that bad shit?”

it takes everything in you not to lunge across the table. bucky’s hand finds your leg underneath the table, already knowing what you’d like to do. you open your mouth to interject, but bucky cuts you off. “hydra did.” he gives a clipped smile. it leaves no room for discussion.

they ask about the avengers and about thanos, and all of it makes you roll your eyes. they talk to bucky as if he’s a toy rather than a human being. as everyone is mingling, you see the couple beginning to approach your table. everyone cheers and scoops them up into hugs. it makes a part of you sad. not because of him, but because it’s another reminder of how life went on without you.

you and bucky stand and approach them. you can almost feel bucky’s hesitation as he sizes up felix. the protectiveness in his stance makes your heart swell. carly smiles at you, but you can tell that there’s a hint of nervousness in her demeanor. “hi!” she says and she looks between you and bucky. “we were both so happy when we got your rsvp. a little surprised, but…”

your eyebrow raises and you look at them. “i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” you place your hand on bucky’s arm. “felix, carly, this is my boyfriend, james. james, felix and carly.”

he shakes their hands and you note the way their eyes flick to the metal one on the other side. bucky and carly begin to make awkward small talk, and you look at felix. he looks at you. there’s something knowing in the stare. “want to take a walk?” he asks, nodding towards the beach.

you nod. felix turns to carly and you turn to bucky, who has a slightly concerned look written on his face. “it’ll be fine.” you lean in and you kiss him, wanting to take any insecurity from him. “play nice, but not too nice. if they say anything stupid, call them on it.”

bucky smirks. “you got it, doll.” he looks to felix and nods to him, and there’s something in bucky’s eyes that must scare him, because you swear felix pales slightly. and then you and felix set off.

for the first part of your walk, both of you are quiet. it’s as if both of you knew that this was inevitable, and now you’re just trying to figure out where to start. both of you begin to talk at the same time, and it causes awkward chuckles to fill the air between you. you stop by a log and you sit, staring out at the ocean. you cross your legs and you look over at him to find his gaze still on the ocean. finally, it moves to you. “i’m sorry.” you both say it at the same time.

a sad smile settles onto your face and you look away. “you first,” he says.”

“i’m sorry.” you look at him again. “i’m not sorry for the way that i felt. i’m not sorry for hurting. but i am sorry that i lashed out. i was… angry.” you suck in a breath. “people who stayed… they’ll always carry the grief and the trauma of those five years. but the people who came back? we came back to a world that had moved on. i can’t… i can’t explain to you how hard that was. it wasn’t just you. i lost everything.” you shake your head. “i took it all out on you. all that hurt. and i’m sorry for that.”

felix nods his head. “i’m sorry that i wasn’t more understanding of what you were going through. that i just… cut you off.” he swallows. “i had five years to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t coming back. even when you were back, it almost felt… fake. like i was looking at a ghost.” he swallows. “but i missed you. i want you to know that i missed you, and i thought about you.”

a small smile works onto your face. “thanks.” you look towards the crowd, where people are laughing and dancing. “she seems great.”

felix looks over his shoulder. “she is. she keeps me… in check. i can be kind of an asshole. i don’t know how either of you dealt with me.” this makes you laugh and roll your eyes. “you and bucky barnes, huh?”

“i have you to thank for that.” he looks at you in confusion. “the building you recommended me? we were neighbors.” you smile, thinking back on the memory of bucky barnes at your door, asking if you needed help building your cat tower. “he is the best thing that has happened to me,” you say it with no hint of hesitation.

felix smiles. “he looks like he’s crazy about you. he barely looks anywhere else.”

you bite down on your lip. “yeah, i’ve heard that before.” the wind ruffles your hair slightly, and you look at felix and he looks at you. “i’ve spent a lot of time being angry at you. i don’t want to be angry anymore.”

he shakes his head. “i don’t want to either.” he pauses. “maybe… maybe, one day, the four of us could… you know, get dinner or something.”

“yeah,” you nod your head. “one day.” you stand, and he follows suit, and you look up at him. “thank you. for inviting me.”

“thank you for coming.”

there’s a level of awkwardness that rests between you, and you think that perhaps it’s inevitable. but also, you can’t help the sense of relief.

part of you thinks that he’s itching to hug you, and you may be extending some forgiveness tonight, but you’re certainly not there yet. you begin to walk towards the party. “c’mon. you need to go to your bride.”

when you return, you think bucky might be ready to drive his steak knife through his eye. you approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and bending so that your face is beside his. “miss me?”

he snorts. “you have no idea, doll.”

you watch as felix makes his way to carly, and you meet his eye. he gives you a slight nod and a knowing smile, and you return it.

there’s a weight that’s lifted off of your chest.

“c’mon,” you say to bucky, tugging him up. “we’re going to dance.”

he groans and you laugh, pulling him by the hands to the dance floor. just as you are, you make me feel so young begins to play around you. as you step onto the dance floor, you begin singing the words quietly to him. your dancing slows to a light sway, and in your ear, bucky begins murmuring the words to you.

your eyes flutter shut and a sweeping calm comes over you. “you know… i never thought i would get married. did you?”

bucky’s hands have a firm place on your waist. “i grew up in the forties. of course i thought i was going to get married,” you two spin slightly. “but, after everything… i didn’t think that was ever going to be in the cards for me.”

your breath catches. “and now?”

“now?” bucky asks into your ear. “i can only dream i get lucky enough to have you as my bride.”

your cheeks grow warm. “mrs. barnes…” you lean back to look at him. “has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

the look on bucky’s face, you don’t know if you’ve ever seen that look before. “yes.” his voice is so firm it nearly brings you to your knees. “yes, it does.”

you two slow to a halt and bucky tilts your chin up. “guess i have some work to do,” his lips ghost over yours. “mrs. barnes.”

the world around you stops, and in that moment, it is only you and bucky. it is you and bucky at your ex’s wedding, and there is nowhere else you would want to be.

you’re beginning to understand why bucky likes making amends.

[reinerispretty]

campus. (asami x f!reader) modern au!

hi i was listening to vampire weekend’s campus and i was like huh this would be cute with iroh ii and then i was like wait a damn minute... this would be GREAT WITH ASAMI so here u go guys gals and nonbinary pals

Red and orange leaves fluttered through the air, cascading through the breeze and landing under (Y/N’s) boots with a satisfying crunch. Despite it being autumn, the temperature had not gotten the memo. She had walked out of her house and into the crisp air wearing a jumper, jeans, and boots, but now she was unbearably hot. She sweat in her jumper as she walked across the quad, the setting sun beating against her back. This kind of weather was impossible to dress for. Cool in the morning, hot in the afternoon, and freezing in the evenings. 

(Y/N) twisted her backpack around her body to search its pockets for her headphones. She was starting the trek to the library to finish her essay. It was Friday, so she should be heading back to her tiny apartment, but she hated to bring schoolwork back home with her. As she dug around, her eyes caught sigh of something shiny and black fluttering in the wind. Assistant Professor Sato had flicked her hair behind her shoulder as she walked beside Dr. Tenzin, (Y/N’s) religious studies professor. They were deep in conversation, and while the sun had turned (Y/N) into a sweaty mess, Professor Sato looked gorgeous and dewy in the golden hour. (Y/N) huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face, and continued her walk to the library. 

Normally, her friends would be waiting for her at their usual table, but they were absent today. Mako had started his criminal justice internship that week, so his evenings were full now. Korra and Bolin had gotten into an argument over who could bench the most earlier in the day, so (Y/N) figured they were at the gym. She grinned as she spread her belongings on the table, reveling in the space she had now that her friends were gone. She enjoyed their companionship, but rarely ever got actual work done. 

She opened her computer and quickly got to work. The faster she finished this essay, the faster she could get home and slide into her bathtub. (Y/N) put in her headphones and became lost to the world around her. 

She had made great progress during her first few hours at the library, but slowly, she started to lose all motivation. She stopped typing for a moment to rub her eyes. She checked her phone. Her groupchat was lighting up with messages from Bolin. He had a stream of consciousness approach to texting. She smiled and replied to the 37 texts with, “Finishing my essay. Someone kill me pls.” She put her phone away as Bolin started replying immediately, shouting about how much he missed her. 

(Y/N) returned to her work but was interrupted once more by someone sliding into the chair across from her. She looked up to find bright green eyes beneath long, dark eyelashes, staring at her. She frowned. “Hi, Dr. Sato.” 

Asami frowned back, but hers was more sad. “Hey, (Y/N), how are you doing today?” 

“Fine,” Was (Y/N’s) response. She didn’t return the question. 

“I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” 

“Well I think you’ll get over it eventually.” Asami sighed. 

“I’m trying here and you’re being difficult.” She knew Asami was right. She wasn’t being fair. But did she owe Asami fairness? 

(Y/N) shut her laptop and perched her chin on her palm, piercing Asami with her own gaze. “You’re obviously here for a reason. Out with it.” 

“(Y/N)--” Asami looked around the room so that no one would overhear them. “I want to apologize.” 

“Oh!” (Y/N) exclaimed as quietly as she could. “It only took you three months. What made you realize that you had done something wrong?” 

(Y/N) was being unkind and she knew it. But she wanted Asami to hurt like she had hurt. Months ago, before (Y/N) had ever started graduate school, she and Asami had met at the bookstore (Y/N) had worked at over the summer. She had never become so enamored by someone before and it had become obvious that Asami had felt the same way, because she kept returning to the store once every few days to ask (Y/N) for recommendations. 

It had been a hot summer day when (Y/N) had approached Asami in one of the aisles, her favorite book in her hand. She handed it to her with a smile and said, “This one’s on me. It’s my favorite.” 

Asami’s face had flushed bright red. “Thank you. I can’t wait to read it.” 

Then, at the same time, they had both said: “Would you like to go out with me some time?” Both girls had nodded excitedly and exchanged numbers in preparation for the date. They had talked for weeks before Asami had just...stopped. (Y/N’s) texts went unanswered and her favorite customer stopped visiting. 

She realized the reason when she had arrived for her first day of class during her first year of graduate school. Asami had stood at the front of the room wearing a form-fitting blazer and pencil skirt combo, the board behind her reading ‘Dr. Sato.’ And from that day on, (Y/N) had been angry. Not because Asami was her professor, but because she didn’t have the decency to tell (Y/N) why they couldn’t talk anymore. 

“I’m sorry that I stopped talking to you. I’m sorry I never gave you an explanation. But when I saw your name on my roster, I panicked. I could lose my job if they found out I was seeing a student.” 

“This isn’t a Lifetime movie, Dr. Sato. I’m an adult who is perfectly capable of making my own decisions. If you had told me what was going on, I would have been happy just being your friend for a little while.” 

“I know,” Asami said, nodding her head. “I didn’t want to be your friend.” (Y/N’s) eyebrow quirked up at her admission, her face heating up. “I know it’s going to take a lot for me to earn back your trust, but in the mean time, could we start over?” 

(Y/N) how much of a sucker she was for sweet talk. Her face still burning, she nodded. Asami stuck out her hand. “I’m Dr. Asami Sato, pleasure to meet you.” 

(Y/N) giggled, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Sato--” 

“Asami,” she interjected, smiling kindly at (Y/N). (Y/N) tried her hardest to hold in her own smile. 

“Asami. I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” 

“I’ve heard about you, you’re in my Romantics class, right?” (Y/N) nodded. “Sad you’ll only be my student for eleven more weeks this semester.” Asami stood, looking around to make sure no one would notice them, and then winked at (Y/N) before walking out of the library.

As (Y/N) watched her walk away, she couldn’t help but think that she wouldn’t mind taking some schoolwork home for the weekend. 

---

tag list!!

@beifongsss , @aroyaldarknessblr , @musicalkeys , @thefandomimagines , @blondie0458 , @kairiririri , @awesomelupe , @zukosvice , @tomshollandz , @lavendercrystals , @astralsaf , @realimbo , @mycollectionofnuts , @wingeddemonclub , @gingersnap126126 , @aangsupremacy , @marvel-ing-at-it-all , @davnwillcome , @someoneovertherainboww , @bigbuckyenergy , @breadqueen95 , @buttholland , @noodlesfluffy , @busyforkuvira , @error-loading-sorry , @bombardia , 

[cupidcreates]

Love You Equally

Chapter Twenty-Six: Splintered

Part 2: The Sleepover

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NS//FW MATERIAL, VIEWER DESCRESION IS ADVISED

Also this is my first time writing sm//ut so please be nice 😖

Tamaki took another twenty minutes before finally emerging from the bathroom, puffy-eyed and still sniffling his lanky frame drawn as far into itself as he could manage. He pressed his palms into his eyes as he approached you, screwing up his face in an attempt to suppress the tears undoubtedly still on the threshold of escaping. You immediately rose from your spot on the bed and pulled him into a tight embrace, allowing him to lay his head on your shoulder and rub his cheek into you, still trembling with the effort of quelling his emotions.

It killed you inside to see him like this; the devastated look on his face when you both realized your other four boyfriends had gone off for a date without you, without even thinking to invite either of you, or even tell you they had made plans together. It felt like a deliberate exclusion, a purposeful rejection of your company and it was very hard to not take it personally.

You tried to rationalize the situation; you really shouldn’t be upset, should you? After all, you and Tamaki had spent Saturday together without informing your other four partners of this plan, why would it be different that they’d done the same? However, you just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different somehow; like it was more deliberate and planned than your spontaneous trip home with one of your partners. It was less like your random adventures you frequently drug one of them along on and more like retribution for something you and Tamaki might have done. It felt personal, you couldn’t deny that.

However, what you could deny was your responsibility in handling it for the night. It was already very late, you and Tamaki were both exhausted and it was indisputable that it was better for you both - for your relationship as a whole - that you both get to bed and worry about it in the morning. Everything could be sorted out after a good night's sleep.

You took Tamaki by both hands and led him to bed, laying him down on his side and tucking yourself in next to him, pulling his head to your chest and stroking his hair. Tamaki shuddered and sniffled for a while after this before eventually falling silent, breaths evening out and body slackening with sleep. You gazed over his head and out your window for a while after he drifted off, the frost had settled back over the grounds, making the grass and barren trees shimmer in the moonlight with an ethereal luminescence only present in the winter months.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you must have, because when you opened your eyes again you were in a different position than before. At some point in the night Tamaki had pulled you down so your face was level with his. He shifted and sighed in his sleep, hot breath ghosting across your face bringing with it the pepper-minty smell of your toothpaste. He’d pulled your bodies flush against one another, so that every bit of you save for your face was in contact with a part of him. He was hot against you, on the cusp of feverish and if it had been any other season but winter it would have been too much. However, even the excellent central heating of UA could only do so much against the blistering winter winds and bone-chilling cold that seeped through even the most miniscule of cracks.

Shifting slowly so as not to wake the sleeping man next to you, you lifted your head to check the clock on your nightstand. The time read 2:34am, you’d only managed to be asleep for a little over an hour and a half. You doubted very much that you’d be in the right headspace for class at 9am and doubted even more that Tamaki would either. You sighed and resigned yourself to a Monday in bed, laying your head back down and gazing into the peaceful face of your lover. Tamaki was extraordinarily pretty, unfathomably soft and gentle; his sweetness was only compounded in sleep. You pushed your face into his neck and inhaled his scent, the light smell of fresh linen relaxing you and bringing a soft smile to your face. You couldn’t help but pepper his neck with small kisses and gentle nips, reveling in the feel of his skin on your lips and between your teeth.

This, however, effectively disturbed Tamaki’s slumber and he quickly awoke with a soft groan and a sigh. He opened his eyes slowly and moved back just enough to peer down at you through dewy dark eyelashes; you gave him a comforting smile and a small bunny kiss. He blushed as you rubbed your nose against his, making you giggle. His blush deepened as he turned his head to bury half of his face in his pillow, gazing doefully up at you and smiling. You placed a kiss on his exposed cheek and pushed your fingers up through his hair, earning you another soft sigh.

“Hey you,” you said, massaging his scalp, “Are you feeling any better after having slept a bit?”

“A-a b-bit,” he replied, voice hoarse with sleep, “a-a-are you d-doing okay?”

“I’m fine, I’ve been fine honestly,” you said “I was more worried about you, I hate seeing you so sad like that Tama, it breaks my heart.”

Tamaki sighed and began shifting himself, re-adjusting your already close position into one a bit more comfortable “I-I think,” he stammered, “I t-t-think I m-might have o-overreacted a b-bit. I m-maybe assumed the w-worst and r-reacted d-dramatically.”

You nodded understandingly and allowed yourself to be moved into whatever arrangement Tamaki saw fit. “Your feelings are valid though Tama, you should never feel bad for having them. It’s better to acknowledge and express them than it is to bottle them up and repress them.”

“I-I know,” he said, still shifting you both around, “But I-I still think I c-could have-”

Suddenly Tamaki’s body went rigid, his eyes snapped open as he let out a startled gasp followed by a deep, guttural groan. You lay puzzled for a moment wondering what could have brought about this reaction, until you felt a hardness push directly against your crotch.

This wasn’t the first time this week Tamaki had gotten hard while in bed with you, in fact it was more common for him to wake up with an erection than not. You weren’t unfamiliar with the term morning wood, so you had expected it to happen at some point. You didn’t blame him for it, you knew it was completely normal for genitals to be ready to go for no reason at all; in fact  you knew that from your own experience of drenching yourself without any external stimuli that this was just a thing that happened sometimes.

This time, however, felt different. This time Tamaki didn’t stammer out a hasty and sheepish apology before rushing off to the bathroom to hide his embarrassment from you. No, this time Tamaki simply froze, crotch still pressed directly into yours mid-grind. Not finishing the motion, but not necessarily pulling away from you either. His face was completely blank, his blush still present but expression completely unreadable.

It was then, fuck, it was then that you felt him throb against you.

Your mouth suddenly felt very dry as a soft whimper escaped your boyfriend, he covered his mouth and ducked his head to avoid making eye contact with you. You immediately moved to pull his hand away, only for him to suddenly grab your ass and grind his heard length directly against your clit.

Sparks of pleasure danced up your spine and something between you two broke. Before you even knew what was happening your lips were crashing onto his in a searing kiss, your tongue immediately finding his and winding it way around it. You gripped his hips and matched his movement, pushing and grinding against him and swallowing the groans he emitted into your mouth.

You quickly found yourself pushed down into the mattress, Tamaki overtop you pushing his hips into yours with the perfect amount of pressure. You made a mental note to ask him how much time he’d been spending with Dabi because his hip movements seemed to mimic Dabi’s to near perfection. His grinding was slow and filthy, completely controlled and unhurried; he seemed to want to revel in every push against your core, circling his hips in a way that hit your clit with every motion and made you see stars. 

You cupped his face to control the kiss, only for him to pin both of your hands above your head and tongue-fuck your mouth. You were quickly getting dizzy from the overwhelming heat between your bodies and you felt the wetness of your cunt cling to your underwear, spreading across the fabric with every thrust of Tamaki’s hips.

He pulled back, a thin line of spit connecting your lips for a fraction of a second before breaking. He was panting and quivering above you, a concerned look on his flushed face.

“Is this, is this okay with you right now?” He asked. You couldn’t help but notice the lack of stutter as he spoke. Seemingly his ability to speak without stammering was only present when he was pushed into a lust-fueled haze.

You swallowed, mouth still too dry and replied, “I’m okay with this if you are, I’ve done this before so it’s up to you how far we go tonight.” You were already wishing for the warmth of his kiss back, the cold air feeling like a slap to the face after the extreme heat you were under assault from a moment ago.

Tamaki’s face went lax and his eyes glazed over, as if he could read your mind he immediately resumed the kiss, tongue thrusting back into your mouth and wrapping itself around your own, making you groan.

“I want to,” he spoke between kisses, “I want you. I want to do everything with you. I - fuck - want to do everything to you. I want to fuck you.”

That simple declaration sent a series of electric shocks up up your spine and had heat pooling in your groin instantaneously. You wrapped a leg around him and ground yourself up into him, earning you a guttural moan and two hands underneath you groping your ass. He lifted you up and pushed you into him, controlling the motion and fucking himself against you, head bumping your clit with every movement and making you shudder.

You broke the kiss and pressed a hand to his chest, he let down your hips and you flipped him over, straddling him and immediately resuming the kiss. He groaned as you stuck a hand down his pants and grabbed his cock, gasping as you pumped the head several times. You pushed your other hand into your own pants and sunk two fingers into your wet heat, pumping them in time with your fist around Tamaki’s cock.

Just when you thought he was close you pulled back, swinging yourself off of him and making your way over to your nightstand drawer. You hadn’t started the year off with condoms, but you’d decided to stock up after your first kiss with Dabi. You’d figured it was only a matter of time before things got physical with one (or maybe more) of your soulmates. Though you hadn’t expected it to be Tamaki who made the first move, you couldn’t say you were upset by this development. Next to you Tamaki pulled his underwear down and off one leg, moving the blanket to cover his now exposed and throbbing cock from the chill of the room.

You returned and shucked your own pajama bottoms off along with your underwear, you didn’t bother with the shirt but instead bent down to capture his lips in another kiss as you rolled the condom onto his cock. Tamaki wasn’t the longest you’d ever seen, probably no more than six or seven inches at best, but he was definitely among the thickest you’ve seen. 

In any case you placed a hand on his chest and positioned the head of his cock outside your drenched entrance. You lowered yourself slowly onto him, reveling in the stretch and burn of his cock sinking into you. Below you Tamaki gasped and twitched as you sunk onto him, excruciatingly slow. He squirmed as you seated yourself onto him, whimpering at the feeling of being fully enveloped in your heat.

You allowed yourself a moment to adjust to the feeling, Tamaki was thicker than you had previously realized and he stretched your walls nearly to their limits. Tamaki gripped your hips hard enough that you knew you’d have bruises come tomorrow. You didn’t mind and instead focused on making small circles with your hips to relax your body and allow yourself to accommodate his thickness.

Once you felt comfortable enough to move you braced yourself against his chest with both hands and lifted about halfway off of him before slamming back down, making you both cry out. Tamaki groaned and thrust up against you as you repeatedly impaled yourself on his cock, pleasure building in the pit of your stomach as he brushed the sweet spot inside of you with every other movement.

Tamaki, you quickly found, was very vocal, whimpering and crying out underneath you, every thrust accompanied by a desperate noise or a whispered beg. You shifted and laid yourself flat against him, swallowing his words mid-sentence with a kiss. You pushed your tongue into his mouth as you rolled your hips against him, the head of his cock now putting a constant pressure against your g-spot. Tamaki adjusted his thrusts to sink into at this angle, grabbing your ass with both hands and fucking himself into you, pace forgotten as he used your body to chase his pleasure.

You managed to get a hand in between your bodies to push and circle your clit, the added pressure and constant massaging of your g-spot sending you racing towards your impending orgasm. You could feel Tamaki was getting close as well, if the stuttering of his hips and increased volume of his cries were anything to go by. You were so close, you could feel it, you were right there. You just needed a few more thrusts, a few more moments before you were pushed over the edge.

It was then that Tamaki gave a particularly hard thrust and your dam broke, your orgasm crashed against you like a wave against the rocky coast. You cried out as you came, clenching around the cock buried inside you and pushing Tamaki over the edge into his own orgasm. He gave one final cry and released inside of you, twitching and shuddering as he came down from his high.

You fell atop him, completely stated, body leadened and lethargic as you panted against his skin. He rubbed your back as he caught his breath and pressed small kisses to your forehead. It was several minutes before you were able to right yourself and pull Tamaki’s softening cock out of you and roll off of him; curling up underneath his arm and laying a hand on his chest. Tamaki tossed the condom into the trash beside your bed and wrapped himself around you. You both fell into a comfortable silence, allowing yourselves to catch your breath as the post-orgasm tingles abated. It wasn’t long until you both drifted off to sleep, still curled up in each other's arms.

Masterlist

Previous | Next

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 6

pairings: kim seokjin x reader ; jeon jungkook x reader ; min yoongi x reader

series rating: R(18+) | genre: angst, forbidden love

warnings: none to note really 

word count: 4.8k

g/n: I MADE A NEW BANNER slkdfslfs; also here’s some tiny history to Yeongkwan and Misun and if you get how they’re all connected.... MUAHAHAHAHAHA *continues laughing evilly in the corner as I rub my hands together* HEH yalls better get ur close reading glasses on skfksldfl 

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 6

Once, there was a timid, young boy who was often misunderstood as misanthropic because of his reserved character. He preferred playing on his own than with the other children, he found amusement in what children of his age would usually find mundane. It wasn’t the other children’s fault either that their company wasn’t enjoyable for him.

Even at a young age, the little boy seemed to find happiness in the little things. He often spent his time alone in deep thought, wondering how things came to be as they currently were. The small boy was curious about the things that didn’t even seem to matter due to the laws of naturality.

He loved looking up in the sky, even if it hurt his eyes; he liked the breeze, the way the dawn’s crisp air hits his face; he enjoyed hiding between tall stalks of corn and rice, watching little bugs move up and down the stems. He was entertained with the way the flowers bloomed, and took pleasure in watching the fish in the rivers swim away when he dipped a finger in.

He was simply observant. Different, as it may have seemed to others, but he would not have it any other way.

On a particularly windy day, he decided that it was the best time to bring out the kite he had long wished for. His father had made it specially just for his birthday, and the little boy was beyond elated to have received such a gift. He always took it with him when they went to the farm where his parents worked and among the lush, green grass, he would spend most of his day playing and watching and observing.

The young boy, having held a kite for the first time in his life, fumbled with the diamond-shaped paper toy, unraveling the thread that had been haphazardly spun around the kite in his haste that morning. As he feels the soft breeze slowly fading, he hurries with his toy, successfully getting the kite to fly higher than he had usually seen with the other kids.

A particularly strong gust of wind caught him off guard, and the poor boy struggled to follow the direction of the wind as he kept an eye of the thread. Preoccupied with figuring out how to save his kite, he failed to take notice of a small mound of soil by his feet. The little boy eventually tripped and fell backward, knocking down someone else with him as he fell.

The boy’s eyes widened in panic. Abruptly, he got on his knees, head bowed down as he apologized profusely. He instantly hears the stern reminders of his parents in his head, telling him to always take precaution wherever he went for the land he was playing on was not their own, and they were mere farmers stepping on the grounds of their generous master.

Eyes closed in anticipation of an imminent punishment, the boy slightly trembled in his knelt position, fists balled to anticipate the pain that was to come. Nothing happened though, save the sound of the dewy grass getting squished under the weight of something.

The young boy pried one eye open, surprised to see a girl’s shoes peeking from a mud-spoilt silk dress in front of him. All the more anxious after realizing that he had accidentally toppled a girl over, the boy bows further to the ground, face only mere inches away from the soil.

He felt the girl step closer as she dusted off her clothes. The stranger asked if he was okay. Unable to hold his reaction in, the boy looked up at her, brows furrowed in confusion. He was the one who had knocked her over, and yet she was the one asking if he was okay. Who was she? Why was she concerned with his well-being? Wary, the boy remained silent, staring at the girl. She held a hand out to help him get up, but as the boy figured his palms were probably covered in dirt, he ignored the girl’s extended arm and got up on his own.

Shrugging, she retracted her hand back to her side. As they finally got to eye level, the pair stared at each other as they studied each other’s features. The girl tilted her head to the right in curiosity with the boy following the same action. Amused, the continues moving after that watching as the stranger in front of her mirrored her actions. “What’s your name?” the girl asked, subconsciously tipping her head to the side. The boy purses his lips in thought first, then answers her question, “My name is Jeon Yeongkwan. And yours?” 

The girl’s face lights up and Yeongkwan finds himself reciprocating the warm action. “Hello Jeon Yeongkwan. I’m Min Misun. It’s nice to meet you.”

The sudden giggle that escapes his wife’s lips pulls him out of his treacherous reverie. Sighing quietly, he watches his wife listen intently to the king animatedly telling the story of his life. If he just wasn’t so preoccupied with trying to drown out the thoughts that have ultimately betrayed him, he would have listened as well, as this was the first time he had seen the king talk with this much enthusiasm.

The children, even at their very young ages, had practically inhaled all their food, taking more than enough servings from the generous amount of food which had been prepared just for the five of them. Yeongkwan, on the contrary, had completely lost interest in the food, picking at the small cube of beef on his bowl. With nothing else left to distract him as the king had brought toys for the kids to play with at the other side of the room, the poor husband was forced to listen to the conversation on the table – almost feeling as if it was he who was disturbing the two.

As he watches the king’s eyes twinkle with delight as he talks to Misun, Yeongkwan’s own lower with sadness. The fine china in front of him suddenly piques his interest and as he studies the intricate patterns inside the ceramic bowl, he is once again reminded of the kind of life Misun was born into – the life she deserved.

Min Misun was a woman born into nobility, and Yeongkwan had gone through a lot of beating because of their relationship. Of course, a son of a mere farmer and the daughter of a man who owned lands in several cities? Nobody would have even dared imagined.

Yeongkwan’s family had served the Mins for as long as he could remember, but he could vividly recall the day he had met her just like it was yesterday. Yeongkwan couldn’t stop looking at them – how perfect they look together: the spitting image of a royal couple. He tries hard to not let the bitterness swallow him whole, but he has experienced this his whole life, and a man could only take one so many punches.

He imagines how difficult it must have been for his wife to leave her precious life like that, when comfort was not a luxury but something already ingrained in their lives. He imagines what life would have been if he hadn’t met Misun at all, if she had only chosen the man she was truly betrothed to. As for Yeongkwan, well, life for him would have been the same all along – working in the fields from dusk to dawn.

But Misun, his lovely Misun… she wouldn’t even have to cook, hadn’t she had been so stubborn. Even his own parents had not favored his friendship with the landowner’s daughter, saying it was too much of a risk for the whole family. But alas, the matters of the heart are exclusively a person’s own, and despite being burdened by the consequences of his or her actions while doing so, nothing ever matters as long as the heart’s desires are fulfilled. 

Throughout the years, the unusual friendship of the two had eventually blossomed into a romantic relationship. It was Yeongkwan who had fallen first - he figured that out when seeing Misun was the only thing he looked forward to for the day. In fact, she was the first thing on his mind when he woke, and was his last thought before he went to sleep. 

Daily, they would meet in a more secluded area of the plantation, where they would talk for hours. On some days, Misun would offer a hand in farming. Yeongkwan declined at first, knowing a plantation was not the place she ought to spend her days in. But Yeongkwan, powerless to stop the person he loved from doing something she wanted to do, indulged her so. 

They’d spend their days like that, talking to each other while Misun occasionally helped with the farming. One day, she came to their rendezvous a little later than expected and when Yeongkwan showed her a small plot where she could plant her own rice but she instantly shook her head no, narrating how she was scolded for coming home with dirt on her hands and on her clothes. But a few scolding wasn't enough to hinder two people enjoying each other’s company. 

The two got closer and they would meet even on the days when Yeongkwan’s family wasn't at their plantation to work. Years passed by and as the two grew into maturity, so did their feelings. Their unlikely friendship had inevitably blossomed into something deeper, more intimate. 

Their attraction to each other was as clear as day, but the future of their relationship was as vague as the night sky filled with clouds. Of course, a daughter of a rich man and a farmer’s son? Such could never be. Yeongkwan and Misun knew that from the very start, deep within the recesses of their heart, but both had already fallen in too deep, and there was nowhere else to go but forward. 

There came a time when Yeongkwan thought their unofficial relationship was on the brink of failing. It was when Misun was about to celebrate her coming of age, and with that came the obligation to select a suitor of her parents’ choosing, one she would inevitably be married off to. Misun thought it was about time they addressed the burden that will soon be in her hands. 

Clearly, there was only one man she thought was suited for her, and it was Yeongkwan. He was gentle, caring, loving, and understanding. He was the man she always wanted but could never have - only because he was lacking, financially, in her parents’ eyes. Destiny had its wretched ways of wrecking the poor souls of people who just want to love and be loved. 

Misun picked a sunny day to express her perturbation, in the hopes that it might help ease the storm that was brewing in her heart, in case Yeongkwan might give up on her just as he had feared. The young man had met her at the usual rendezvous, and walked together in silence and trepidation towards their favorite spot: under the shade of an oak tree, of their oak tree. 

As Yeongkwan rests his back against the trunk, Misun shyly leans towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. The man’s heart thumps wildly against his chest, trying to control his emotions over the simple action. Misun is likewise not doing any better, overcoming her shyness to initiate a small display of affection, unsure if this might be the last they might see each other. 

The couple sit there for a while, just enjoying the cool breeze of autumn. When she deems it the right time to say it, she looks up at Yeongkwan, placing a hand over his. “My love, as you know, I am coming of age in a few days’ time, and I will have no choice but to select a suitor of my parents’ choosing, but I want you to know that you are the only one for me.”

Yeongkwan places a hand atop hers and Misun feels the slightest ounce of security seep into her. “I desire no one else but you, Yeongkwan,” Misun repeats her sentiments. 

“So do I, my love. I wish you not to worry because I have saved enough to pay for your dowry. We shall be together soon, Misun. I...I love you and my world is not complete if you’re not in it.” 

Misun sits up straighter, looking at the man of her dreams with nothing else but fondness in her eyes. “I love you too, Yeongkwan. So much more than you will ever know.” 

The young man fishes for something in the small pouch tied to his  pants and brings out a ring. Misun looks at him expectantly, pursing her lips in anticipation. “Misun, my love, if you will allow me to do so, please accept this ring, one that I have crafted with my own hands, as a symbol of my unending love.” 

Ever so gently, Misun slips her hand onto Yeongkwan’s open palm, and as the latter inserts the ring, Misun suddenly stops him. “My dearest, it had just come to me...should mother see this on my fingers, she will have this discarded at once without question and I do not wish to lose something of such a sentimental value.” 

Yeongkwan nods, understanding her predicament, but the young man was always ready, always thinking thoroughly ahead before doing something. So with a smile, he pulls forth a string from the same pouch he’d taken the same ring from and shoots it through the ring. Warmth blossoms in Misun’s chest, tilting her head a little so her lover can tie the string around her neck. 

“I think I prefer the necklace better… after all, it’s the one closer to my heart.” Yeongkwan, in a sudden burst of emotion, takes his lover’s face in his palms and presses his lips to hers. He feels Misun freeze in her spot, and Yeongkwan quickly pulls away, profusely apologizing for his brazen behavior. 

All of a sudden, beside him, he hears the most delightful sound in the world: Misun’s laughter. She continues laughing even with Yeongkwan staring at her, hand on his forearm for support. “Oh, goodness. I am so sorry, Yeongkwan,” Misun says, wiping away the tears that welled in the corner of her eyes. 

“I just...it was...that was my first kiss.” 

Yeongkwan’s mouth falls open in shock, and shame. “That was you first kiss?! I mean, that was mine too...but your first kiss should have been more romantic unlike here, where...we’re just under the shade…” Yeongkwan stammers out a confession, only causing Misun to laugh harder. 

As the young man turns beet red at the sudden realization of his words, Misun coos at him, giving him a gentle pat on his shoulder. Shyly, she speaks up, “If you want...we could try again?” Yeongkwan doesn’t think twice about the offer, once more connecting their lips together. 

That same day, the couple had gone back to Misun’s house with Yeongkwan’s determination to present himself as a suitor and win over her parent’s hearts next. They pass through the plantation with a spring in their steps while the other servants who recognize Yeongkwan stare at the two whose obvious love for each other surpasses their judgmental looks. 

Misun’s family was enjoying lunch by the time they arrived at their destination, and at the sight of the pair with hands intertwined, the light mood inside the Min household quickly dissolves into thin air. Her father’s face falls when realization dawn on him, while her mother refuses to meet her own daughter’s eyes, disappointment hanging in her features. 

The Min patriarch exhales as he puts his silver chopsticks down and looks at the boy. “Yeongkwan, is it?” Min Mansoo asks, wiping the corners of his mouth with a cloth. “Yes, Master Min.” 

“Why don’t you sit and eat with us?” Mansoo offers, and Misun’s grip on Yeongkwan tightens. The sensation makes Yeongkwan hesitate, but he doesnt want to disappoint his future father-in-law by not following his orders. 

With one last reassuring look at Misun, he lets go of her hand and sits himself to a corner where Mansoo had pointed at. As soon as Yeongkwan settles down, Mansoo tells him to join their lunch, gesturing to the food. “How is your family Yeongkwan?” 

“I am thankful to our ancestors for keeping them well, Master Min.” Mansoo nods, never keeping his eyes off the young man as he places a spoonful of rice in his mouth. 

“Yeongkwan, son, if you dont mind…” Mansoo starts, staring at the young man, “...there are some things we would like to discuss as a family first....in private.” Yeongkwan quickly catches on, gently squeezing Misun’s hand in his before thanking the Min patriarch for letting him partake in their lunch and leaving afterwards. 

“Father,” Misun begins, but her father cuts her off quickly. “Don’t...just...I dont want to hear it Misun,” Mansoo replies, calming himself down. “How could you do this to your own family?” 

“Father,” the plantation heiress tries to call her father’s attention one more time, but it’s her mother who stops her from doing so this time, hand shooting over to grab her wrist as a warning signal. 

“I trusted you, Misun! I knew it in me that you would have good judgment, but you broke that promise just like that! All those years, all this time - you had been talking to that man?” 

“Yeongkwan is a good man, unlike the others who wish to court me,” Misun mumbles, not meeting her father’s eyes. Mansoo pounds his fist against the table, startling everyone present. 

“I don’t care if you think he is a good man or not, Misun! How can you assure yourself that it’s you he wishes to marry and not your wealth?” Misun’s lips start trembling, frightened at her father’s sudden outburst. “Do you not get the point here?! He is...he’s but a mere servant, Misun! Even if he had good intentions, life is difficult to come by! Will you have enough food to place on your table for each day? Will your children live comfortably just as you have? You cannot be with such a man! I forbid you to ever meet him again. In fact, I am forbidding you from even leaving the house without your mother. And that is final, Misun. Lunch is over. Nobody better bother me in my office.” 

Misun’s knuckles turn white with the grip she has on her skirt, fighting the tears that threaten to fall as she storms off to her own room. 

Just as Mansoo had ordered, Misun hadn’t stepped outside their house in a week. The girl had no intention to leave either, if she was to be accompanied by her mother at all times like a little child. The poor young lady cried day and night, restless and anxious about what the near future might hold, especially if the only man she’s ever loved might not be in it. 

Yeongkwan, likewise, was not doing any better, tense for hours on end. He had visited Misun for the entire week after meeting her family, yet he was only greeted by closed windows and the cold evening air. Tomorrow was the day he had been dreading ever since he’d fallen for Misun, and fears, maybe, just maybe, some things aren't just meant to be. 

It was finally the day of Misun’s choosing, and a feast had been prepared to celebrate such a ceremonious occasion. A glum Misun was assisted by two other servants during dawn in preparation for the days’ activities. The mood was heavy even for the other servants, as their usually bubbly Misun had lost her light and her beautiful smile. For the entire morning, Misun had greeted the guests with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. 

She was also afforded time to spend with each of her suitors - time she spent imagining Yeongkwan by her side and not these strangers. A voice beside her startles her from her preoccupied thoughts, “You should pick him,” the man supposedly her suitor speaks, leaning backwards as he leans his weight onto his arms. 

“Excuse me?” Misun asks, looking up from where she had been playing with the grass. “I think you should go for the man you truly love,” he says, gesturing to Yeongkwan staring at Misun from a distance. The oblivious Misun turns to look at who her suitor was pertaining to, yet finds no one. The stranger exhales, enjoying the breeze, “Marrying to maintain your status had always been pointless. Unless you really have no regard for your own emotions, then marriage is but a contract, and not a lifelong bond and commitment to another person.” 

“You think so too?” 

“I know so too,” the man winks at her, causing her to giggle - the closest she had been to being genuinely happy for the entire week. The kind stranger gives her a small, reassuring smile. “Go, I’ll cover for you.” 

Yeongkwan’s heart clenches when he sees Misun hug another man, defeatedly looking away. He mounts his horse, taking one last look at Misun’s house and wishing the love of his life a happy relationship with her betrothed. As Yeongkwan pulls on the reins, he hears hurried steps approaching him and a familiar voice calling his name. 

He looks back to see Misun running towards him, waving her arms to catch his attention. Quickly, he gets down from his horse and patiently waits for Misun to arrive. The wide grin on Misun’s face is unmissable, and Yeongkwan wonders if she truly had feelings for him in the first place, being able to smile like this even if this was possibly the last time he will see her. “I see you have already chosen a man to be your husband,” Yeongkwan states, keeping his voice as stable as he could. 

“I did,” Misun replies, eyes twinkling. 

“I guess this is goodbye then?” 

A fond smile graces Misun’s lips. “What kind of nonsense are you talking about?” Confusion takes over Yeongkwan's  features, “Wasn’t the man you were with earlier the one you chose to be with for the rest of your life?” 

“You might have missed something there. I think you mean, ‘it’s the man I am with now that I have chosen to be with for the rest of my life’.” Yeongkwan’s eyes widen when he processes Misun’s words. “What are you talking about?” 

“I choose you, Jeon Yeongkwan. I will always choose you.” The girl stands on her tiptoes and places a chaste kiss on his Yeongkwan’s lips, still slightly parted in shock. “Now, take me away, Yeongkwan, you have me.” The man wastes no time, getting back up on his horse first before helping Misun up the steed. 

It’s been a whole moon since the Jeon family had been first invited for dinner over at the royal palace and tonight, the king had sent another invite to have lunch with him tomorrow. At first, he had found the king’s favor towards his family a blessing, but now, everytime he sees the way the king looks at his family, it seems as if it was just an awful nightmare just waiting to come true. 

Misun notices the steely look on her husband’s face and rests her head against his shoulder. “Are you alright, my love?” Yeongkwan forces a smile onto his face, but Misun sees right through it. “Do you not wish to have lunch with the King tomorrow? Your decision is likewise mine.” 

Yeongkwan quickly shakes his head no, not wanting to overthink the whole thing. As soon he places a kiss on his wife’s forehead, Misun decides to drop the subject, but still worries for her husband. 

Just as Yeongkwan had expected, their visit wasn’t any better than the last. The bitterness was slowly seeping into him, so much that he’s greatly tempted to make an excuse to get back home at once. As he takes a sip from the samgyetang the palace cooks had prepared for them, he thinks about the king’s attempts to impress his family. 

Today, King Daesin had gone so far as to let the children play among the palace gardens and had granted his entire family access to wherever they may wish to roam around. The boys, beaming at the idea, finish their food heartily and as quickly as they could, before promptly asking the king if they could go ahead and play outside. Daesin, taking joy in their mutual enthusiasm, gets up and ushers the children and Misun outside. As if he’d almost forgotten Yeongkwan was also present, Daesin had also told him to come join his family. As if he needed any inviting. 

Yeongkwan trails behind the four of them quietly. As the King carries his two sons in both arms, they giggle excitedly, happily bouncing in King Daesin’s hold. Just as he exits the king’s private hanok, he comes face to face with the chief advisor, Park Joomin. 

“Ah, General Jeon!” the older man greets, bowing curtly. “Chief Advisor Park! You do know there is no need to address me by my previous title. It’s such a pleasure to see you again after so long. You seem well.” 

“I am,” Joomin nods, “I am grateful to our ancestors for guiding us throughout the war and giving us another life to live.” 

Yeongkwan averts his gaze from the chief advisor for a moment to watch his wife run along with their kids in tow, and the king running after them. The chief advisor follows his line of sight and confirms his suspicions. Joomin thought it wasn’t something one should spend time thinking about at first, but now as he sees the king almost transform into a completely different person. 

His informant told him of the Jeon family’s visits getting more frequent, so Joomin decided to stay close and watch their interactions from afar. Today though, his intuitions are leaning towards the affirmative and decides to confront the former general about it, in the hopes that his offer might just save the future of the southern city. 

Park Joomin leans closer and places a hand on Yeongkwan’s shoulder. “I hope you don't mind me being honest with you, Yeongkwan, because there is something I wish to address to you - from one friend to another.” 

Yeongkwan’s brows furrow slightly in suspicion. Sure, they’ve fought side by side during the war, but they never really had any interaction besides fighting their common enemies together. 

“I am all ears, advisor.” Park Joomin nods briefly, before signalling one of his men to leave the two alone. ‘Interesting,’ Yeongkwan thinks, staring out into the lush forest from a distance. 

“Yeongkwan, I know you’re a smart and noble man. Compassionate as well…” the chief advisor starts, placing a firm hand on the younger one’s shoulder. “...and I do not want to tarnish our friendship by saying this but I am unsure whether you are turning a blind eye to the truth or you are simply unaware of it.” Joomin leads them both to an elevated gazebo - one overlooking the palace garden where Yeongkwan’s sons are playing. 

The advisor allows Yeongkwan to settle on a seat before continuing, “Your wife is a lovely woman, she really is. But I fear, it is not only her husband who is wooed by her charms.” 

Yeongkwan gulps. There it is, the truth that Yeongkwan still refuses to believe yet will inevitably have to cope with sooner or later. Today was the day the reality of it all had hit him the hardest. Park Joomin takes Yeongkwan’s silence as his cognizance on the matter. 

“I could not possibly fathom what you must be going through right now.” Joomin throws him an apologetic look. 

‘Of course you don’t,’ the Jeon patriarch answers in his head, ‘Not everyone has their wives catching the king’s attention and their own sons getting closer to the monarch, who was still practically a stranger.’

“I am sorry if this conversation makes your heart ache, but besides being your friend, I also have a duty to our King, and to our nation. Thus, I will no longer have to mollify my words. Our city needs an heir to strengthen the throne. We might have won the war against the colonizers, yet this had only fueled traitors who wish to turn against their own cities. The Great Colonization had only made us realize how weak the bond is between the government and our citizens - how easy it would be to penetrate our land from the inside, just like that.” 

“We need to strengthen our city’s foundation, Yeongkwan. And...and I think your wife just might be the solution.” Yeongkwan averts his gaze from the chief advisor when he sees the latter glance at him. Joomin finds having to explain the further details of the resolution unnecessary, deeming Yeongkwan already knowing of what dilemma he is to face. 

[taglist] : @aretha170 @strxwberri-milk @vivpurple7 @wheredoiwhaaat25 @hodginss   @btsxdoll​

© joontier 2020

[oopsiedoopsie23]

The princess and the drummer part 2 | Rook x reader

A/N: I promised that this was coming didn’t I? Okay I’ll stop being a cocky piece of shit now. Anyways, thank you so much for all the support my loves! I’m really feeling the love and it’s truly so amazing! Hopefully y’all love this part as much as the last, happy reading my loves!

Prompt: After getting caught on a livestream having a heated moment with Rook, the reader’s life gets turned upside down.

Part 1

You stared into the mirror, wide eyed, taking everything in.

You watched as two makeup artists were frantically rushing, dabbing something onto your face, scolding you to stay still. And then, there was the man behind you trying to secure a mic pack onto your back, also scolding you to stay still, glaring at you every time you twitched or fidgeted.

“Y/N you’ve got 30 seconds!”

You stood up, awkwardly swatting away the makeup artists’ final attempts at making your makeup look ‘dewy’ or whatever the fuck that meant, before quickly swivelling around, only to be caught in the arms of the man that may have just possibly ruined your career a few hours ago.

“Hey...are you good?”

It took all of your strength to not melt into his arms right then and there. But you knew that if you gave in, you would never make it onto the stage.

“I’m kind of losing my shit but if I want a chance to save my fucking career then I have to do this.”

“Wait wha- save your career? What the fuck are you saying Y/N?”

You spun around, pulling yourself out of Rook’s grasp, walking away from him, purposely not meeting his eyes.

“I can’t talk right now I have to go on stage in like 10 seconds.”

“Fuck that Y/N, you need to talk to me!”

“Rook I don’t have fucking time! We can talk about this later!”

You finally built up the courage to look into his eyes but instantly regretted it, seeing his once bright and playful eyes looking dark, full of sadness and confusion.

You’re about to apologize for snapping at him when you hear someone behind you yelling your name, “Y/N you’re on right now!”

You give Rook a tiny smile, before turning around once again walking towards the stage.

“Wait Y/N! Fucking hell!” you gasp as you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you backwards and spinning you around so that you were facing him once again.

 “I’m not gonna let you go on stage like this, we’re gonna talk right now whether you like it or not.”

“Y/N let’s go! You need to go on stage right now!”

Before you could pull out of his grasp for what felt like the hundredth time within the past 5 minutes, Rook speaks, never once taking his eyes off of yours, “Give us five minutes! Tell Kells to tell a story or something!”

And once again, before anyone else could stop him, Rook gently tightens his grip around your wrist and pulls you out of the busy room.

You follow slightly behind him as he walks through a series of hallways before finding a small corridor with no one else in it.

You watch as Rook slowly stops and turns around, eyes finding yours. The two of you stand like that for what feels like forever. His hand still wrapped gently around your wrist, facing you, staring at you with those beautiful eyes of his.

You close your eyes, remembering everything that happened in the past 3 hours, everything that happened between you and Rook. From the heated make-out session, to the sparks flying throughout your body, to the memory of his skin against yours when the two of you couldn’t get enough of each other in some random supply closet...and now this. 

You open your eyes slowly to find his still trained on yours, studying you, waiting for you to say something. 

“I think that I just made the biggest fucking mistake of my career.”

Silence soon engulfed the both of you, as the both of you let your words sink in.

“And by mistake do you mean me?”

Your eyes widen, tears threatening to spill as you realize what Rook had been thinking. You quickly shake your head, moving your hands so that they were gently placed on his cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just been...a lot. Today has made me the happiest I’ve felt in a while, I mean you got me so fucking happy that I fired my dumbass publicist and then fucked you in a supply closet for God’s sake!” you giggle as you see Rook let out a chuckle

“I believe that it was I, that fucked you and not the other way around.”

“Oh shut up!” you laugh as you let go of his face, lightly smacking his chest.

“Way to ruin the moment, jackass.”

Rook grabbed your hands once again, pulling you towards him, and wrapping you in his arms. You couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzled your head into his chest, finally letting yourself melt into his arms.

“So why do you think you ruined your career?”

You let the two of you sway a little bit before responding, “Because...these past 3 hours have changed my life, Rook. In 3 hours you made me feel for the first time in my life, that I could be me...that I needed to be me. That, I can’t hide from the world, pretending to be some innocent, pop princess who doesn’t like to get drunk and have sex in random closets.”

You felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled.

“I need to show people the real me...and I don’t know how to do that, Rook.”

As the words leave your mouth, you feel fingers tilt your chin up, so that you were once again looking into his eyes, before you felt Rook’s lips on yours.

Throughout the day, the two of you had probably exchanged dozens of kisses, filled with fire and electricity, passion running through your veins. But this kiss was different, it was sweet and slow. One that didn’t cause electricity to spark through your veins but instead caused little butterflies to flutter in your stomach, and a slight blush to dust onto your cheeks. The kind of kiss that told you that whatever you and Rook had, it wasn’t just a one-time thing or a fling, it was something more, something indescribable.

Just as you were running out of air, Rook pulled his lips away from yours, but instead of pulling away from you fully, he kept his forehead resting against yours. “I love you Y/N.”

Your heart nearly pops out of your chest as you hear those words.

“I know that we’ve only had whatever this is for 3 fucking hours but, I love you, I’m in love with you, and I want to be with you. Whatever we have is too good for us to just throw away or leave behind, because if we do, I know that I’ll never find anyone else who can make me feel how I feel about you.”

There’s a slight silence before he speaks again, “You don’t have to say anything now but, I just wanted you to know because I think you had to go on stage like 10 minutes ago and I don’t think I could’ve held this in for much longer.”

You giggled as you took his gentle, calloused hands in your yours. 

“I love you too Rook.”

You watched as Rook’s face lit up, and he smiled wider than you had ever seen.

The two of you kissed once again, and it was somehow better than the last. You felt time slow once again, but this time it was as if nothing else in the world mattered, all that mattered was those 3 words that Rook had said to you, and that you were in his arms. You loved him, and he loved you.

You don’t know how long the two of you stood there, foreheads pressed against one another, in each others arms, making out, but it was apparently long enough for Slim to come running up to the both of you panting, but swearing like a madman, which was pretty hilarious to be honest.

“What the fuck do you think y’all are doing! We still have a concert to put on, one that one of you agreed to surprise the crowd for, and you, you dumbass are actually part of this fucking show, banging on your big ass drums! I mean it’s nice and all that you motherfuckers were having a nice fucking moment but you left Kells out there saying his lame ass dad jokes and if you, little miss murderer, don’t go out there in 5 seconds, every single fucking person in that crowd is going to lose their high, and won’t find Kells’ fucking terrible jokes tolerable anymore, so stop sucking each others faces off and get on the fucking stage you dipshits!”

The two of you stand there, wide eyed for a second before bursting out laughing and taking off running towards the stage, hand in hand. You both run by the stage manager that had first yelled at you, (who looked like she was gonna rip her hair out) and also a worried Ashleigh, who you give a thumbs up to.

You stand by the entrance of the stage as you hear someone yelling into an earpiece behind you, signalling to Colson that you were ready, as someone tossed you a microphone and fiddled with your micpack one last time.

You took in a quick breath, as you hear Colson introduce you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m so fucking sorry that you had to listen to me tell those lame ass jokes to y’all for the past little bit but it’s all worth it because I have a surprise for you, motherfuckers!”

You hear the crowd erupt and you can’t help but smile and feel your nerves slowly begin to wash away.

You look to your side as Rook pecks your forehead before whispering in your ear, “You got this princess, remember I’m right behind you.”

You smile at the nickname and nod your head as he gives you a wink and runs back onto the stage, sticks in hand, sitting back down at his drum set.

“Y’all saw her making out with my fucking drummer earlier...give it up for Y/N fucking L/N everybody!”

The crowd erupts, and as you see run onto the stage, you wave at a couple of fans before and give Colson a hug.

“Thanks for the fucking intro, you dipshit.” you giggle, playfully smacking his arm. You hear the crowd roar once again as you swear, and you can’t help but laugh once again.

You start dancing and jumping around with Colson and the crowd as they begin to play your most popular song.

The song lasts a good 3 minutes before you’re panting and sticking your arm out to the crowd, signalling to them that you want to talk. 

“So, if y’all hadn’t figured it out already, I’ve had a pretty crazy day.” you laugh as some of the fans whistled and screamed, telling you that they had also seen Colson’s livestream. And you couldn’t help but laugh harder when you heard Rook play a slight beat on the drum, making the crowd go even crazier as Rook basically acknowledged the incident as well.

“Alright, alright, anyways like some of you beautiful people in this room, I’ve been struggling my whole career with being someone that I’m not. I’ve been singing and making music that I knew that other people would want me to make, but I didn’t want to make it at all, hell I fucking hated it.”

You pause as you hear a bunch of the crowd laugh and scream in agreement. 

“It’s okay y’all can fucking agree that you hated it, I know what you motherfuckers are thinking.” you laugh

“Anyways, I think I’ve been talking for too long but basically, I’m tired of pretending, from now on, I’m gonna swear all I fucking want, drink how much I want and make the fucking music that I want cause fuck that shit!”

The crowd roars in agreement, all cheering you on, as you finally unleash to them and the world, your true colours and show them a glimpse of who you really were.

“So what I’m really trying to say here is, for my next album, it’s gonna be way different, and you might hear a familiar voice on there.” you yell as you point to Kells who was standing back, watching you and grinning

“And maybe even a special drummer boy on there too.” you wink and turn around catching the eye of a smiling Rook who once again, plays a short beat in response. 

You hear the crowd erupt once again and you laugh, feeling on a high from finally showing the world who you really were and feeling like a huge weight had finally come off of your shoulders.

Soon enough, Colson wrapped up the show, as you joined in on one of his songs, before bidding your farewells to the crowd and returning backstage.

As soon as you step foot backstage, you feel someone’s arms snake around yours, lifting you up into the air. You immediately squeal as you feel Rook turn you around, smiling from ear to ear.

“Drummer boy huh?”

“I guess now we’re the princess and the drummer boy.”

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

The end motherfuckers! Damn this is way longer than I expected but I hope y’all liked it <3

[merakiui]

Can you please write yandere Jamie accidently hurting his darling and he doesnt stop until their bone crack

Porcelain (Jamie)

TW: yandere, violence (broken bone), captivity, abuse

The sun hasn’t risen yet, but you’re already up. The stable is dark and cold, and you can feel the chill seep into your numb legs. If it hadn’t been for the subtle creaking of the door, you wouldn’t have realized just how golden of an opportunity this is. In the shadowed room, you stare at the door until your vision darkens. And then it brightens when you blink, and you realize a sliver of the outside world is peeking through a crack in the door. You’re running on a few hours of sleep, but there’s no mistaking the movement.

The door’s unlocked.

Jamie must’ve forgotten about the latch when he came to check on you and the horses last night. He’d said you needed time to think after your outburst. Something about connecting with the horses that whinny and snuffle all around you. It’s a stupid sentiment, but a punishment is a punishment and you can’t fret over what could’ve been done to prevent it. All you can focus on is the present and the stable door that sways weightlessly in the harsh wind.

You grasp the coil of the prickly rope and tug, but it doesn’t budge. Your nails have been cut down to the skin, courtesy of Jamie, so they’re of no use. Ever since he brought you into the stable, you’ve felt more like an animal and less like a human. Perhaps it’s the way he treats you, so calm and deliberate even when you’re glaring and spewing harsh words. He’ll pat you like he does with the horses, stroking your hair and muttering soothing words about how much he wants to bring you back into the farmhouse. The small price for a warm bed and a warm meal is good behavior.

There’s no way you can obey someone who’s got you locked up like an animal. And he expects you to love him in return? As if.

While you feel around on the ground for anything that could be used to cut the rope, the horse in the stall beside you huffs, stomping its hooves against the dirt ground. You make a shushing noise in vain, but it does nothing to stop the mare that’s now wide awake. In no time, the rooster will cry out to welcome another dewy morning and you’ll have to face Jamie. Your hands work at the rope quickly. The more time you spend whittling at it, the less you’ll have to navigate the outdoors.

After what seems like forever, it comes loose and the thick knot unfurls. You sigh out of relief, reminding yourself that the situation could be worse. Luckily, Jamie doesn’t own any chains—not that you know of. You hope he doesn’t have anything stronger because it would just add another layer of difficulty to this mess.

Good riddance to that awful rope, you think, rubbing at your ankle. There’s no doubting the rope burn that smarts under your icy fingertips. It was bound to happen with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the dreary stable. As you stagger to your feet, grimacing at the sudden weight, you’re reminded not to falter. Even pausing to take a breath is time wasted, and so you stumble towards the doors. You consider taking a horse as you pass, but that wouldn’t work in your favor. For one, you hardly know how to mount and steer one, so riding is out of the question. You’d probably get bucked off the minute you try to scramble upon its back.

The sky is in the middle of its transition from eerie night to morning, and you move with stilted vigor. Squinting, you attempt to pick out a hiding spot in case Jamie were to see you from the second story. Your spine is shuddering and you can’t tell if it’s from fear or the cold. Nevertheless, you move forward, passing the chicken coop and eventually coming down the rocky path that leads out into the open pasture. Your only choice is to head towards the corn field on your left, but a simple question is stopping you: Would you rather get lost in a maze of towering green stalks, where the threat of starvation looms, or would you rather run back into the comfort of a cozy house?

It’s torture either way, but you never had much of a choice to begin with.

You’re at the edge of the field, stopping only to catch your breath. How long has it been since you’ve walked such a great distance? The sun breaks over the horizon just as you step into the field, and the rooster cries out its morning wake-up call. Something whizzes past your arm at once, almost scraping it in the process. Your instincts have you on your knees, cowering at whatever might’ve come at you. A thump catches your attention. Lying in the grass is a stone that can’t be any bigger than the cap on a water bottle. Confused, you pick it up, wondering where it came from.

Your gaze trails beyond the rock, focusing on the boy standing in front of the gate. He’s holding a slingshot, a simple warning that incenses your already buzzing nerves. You must’ve woken him up because he’s still in his night clothes, seemingly unfazed by the cold breeze. There’s a tense silence that settles between the two of you, so thick it couldn’t possibly be cut with a knife. You’re relieved he’s still relatively far because you wouldn’t be able to handle whatever mood reflects in his expression.

You open your mouth to say something—an apology or even an excuse—but the words never come. Jamie steps past the threshold, dropping the slingshot, and that’s when you jump to your feet, hoping to make it into the field before he can catch you.

“Ah! Hold on a moment!”

You’ve always been faster than Jamie. Now it’s just a race between desperate fear and sheer willpower. With legs that haven’t been put to work in a while and a pair of lungs that burn with effort, you struggle to pick up speed. One moment you’re navigating through corn and the next you’re falling on your stomach, landing so hard the breath gets knocked out of your windpipe.

“Jamie...” you wheeze, hands scrabbling through dirt to find something to defend yourself with. “You’re crushing me...”

“Sorry about that.” Despite that, he doesn’t get off of you. “I forgot to lock that darned stable.”

“Yeah. I was just—“

“Were you tryin’ to tell me? I appreciate it, but it’s not good if yer gonna escape like a hog drawn to food scraps.”

"I wasn’t trying to escape! I just...wanted to tell you about the lock.”

“Hm.” He moves off of you, a blank expression painting his youthful face. You turn so that you can look at him. Within seconds, a smile blooms. “Of course! A farm ain’t a farm unless you’ve got true grit.”

“R-Right. So let’s pretend this never happened.”

“A horse won’t learn if yer not gonna discipline it when it drinks from the wrong trough. You’ll just escape again, won’t you?”

“That won’t happen. I promise.” Jamie grabs your wrists to steady you as you attempt to get up, effectively pinning you to the ground. Now you’re starting to worry. Why is he dragging this out? If he’s going to punish you, you’d prefer he get it over with. You yelp when he begins to crush your wrists. “Get off of me! It hurts!”

“Sorry.”

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes, and you weakly kick at him. “I said it hurts, you stupid country bumpkin! Can’t you listen?!”

Ah, there’s that nastiness that’s sprouted from fear and hatred. He frowns, catching your leg before it can make contact with his face. Your wrists are released at once, and you flop back on the ground, chest heaving angrily.

“Now that wasn’t very nice of ya. If yer gonna be difficult...” Jamie squeezes your ankle so hard that your vision flickers. “I’ll just have to teach you not to cause trouble. It’d be better for the both of us if you'd behave.”

“Stop... It hurts so—“ You’re shrieking now, writhing underneath him like a salted octopus as your talus is crushed in his hand. Your other leg refuses to move, frozen with shock. The tears are falling freely now as you beg him for mercy. “I’m sorry! I won’t try to escape again! Please, please—“

“Are you sure?”

For a moment, you swear he eases up on the pressure. Frantically, you try to explain yourself, but all that comes out are garbled sobs and sniffles.

“Silence ain’t gonna work...”

And then the pain sharpens to a deadly point, striking every nerve until you can hear the bone snap. Like a wooden board splitting into unforgiving shreds. No matter how much you weep and scream, no one will hear. You can’t even swat at him with your arms; your entire body gives out the moment your ankle shatters. Blinding pain races up your leg, numbing your overheated brain. Jamie’s never heard you scream like that before. He flinches, partly shocked when he notices your gnarled ankle, swelling miserably in his hand.

“Oh! I didn’t mean to do that.” Sometimes he’s not even aware of his own strength. He’d only meant to hold you in place so you wouldn’t kick him, but it seems like he forgot to regulate that boorish strength of his. “It’s okay. Don’t cry.” He swipes at your tears with his thumb, a gentle smile decorating his features. “Yer just a little dinged-up. It’ll heal.”

For once, he forgets all about the fear that had snagged his heart when he noticed you staggering out of the stable and the sadness that had lingered when you insulted him. You probably didn’t mean it, but those words still stung.

“Let’s get you fixed up. You’ll feel better with some rest and a good meal.”

Jamie picks you up, awkwardly trying to hold you in a comfortable position. Your face contorts with the movement as your legs dangle. You don’t even hear him as he mumbles about how sorry he is—how he didn’t intend to break your leg. All you can think about is the pain and the gruesome sound of cracking bone.

Jamie watches you as your consciousness fades in and out. He never realized how fragile you were. Almost like a porcelain plate that’s been kept on the highest shelf. It’s a shame you’ll be unable to walk for a while, but he’ll help you through it all. Although you can’t hear him, it’s a verbalized promise. He regrets his actions—he always does—but a darker part of him remains relieved. At least you won’t run away now, and he’ll be able to keep you in the house where it’s safer.

No more punishments for a few months. A battered leg is punishment enough.

[myaekingheart]

141. Intuition

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

               Smoke billowed up from the tip of a lit cigarette as Sekkachi took a long, hungry drag. The village was quiet for a Monday, the sky inching up central overhead. Dust clouded up around her ankles with each pad of her feet. She turned a corner, trampled through the same pathway she had already forged on another street. Rei surely would not mind her running late. It wasn’t like they were on a tight schedule and Rei likely needed the extra time anyway. After all, it wasn’t called morning sickness for nothing.

               As she strolled, Sekkachi pressed a hand to her toned, bare stomach and deliberated. It was still so hard to wrap her brain around the fact that her best friend was having a baby. Deep down, Sekkachi knew this would happen eventually. She had made her peace with it but that didn’t mean she had fully comprehended it yet. Life was moving so fast and things were changing so quickly. Their youth was slipping ever rapidly through their fingers and there was not a damn thing they could do about it.

               Sekkachi cursed herself as she suddenly heard her name shouted from down the street. All those thoughts of youth had apparently summoned him, the true power of youth connoisseur: Might Guy. He waved at her widely before running to catch up with her, a determined grin spread across his face. “Sekkachi! I didn’t expect to see you out and about this early” he greeted.

               “It’s not that early” Sekkachi grumbled under her breath, taking another drag. But then again, being out and about any time before noon was evidently suspicious behavior. “Besides, I’ve got plans with Rei.”

               Guy nodded knowingly. “What youthful activities are you doing today? A sparring match in the training grounds? Shopping spree? Or perhaps a trip to the dango shop? Hmm?”

               Shaking her head, Sekkachi finished off her cigarette and toed the butt into the dirt. “No, we’re heading over to see her parents. Rei’s got big news to share and besides, she’s been freaking out about everything so she wanted to look into some books on pregnancy.”

               Might Guy stood stock still in the middle of the street, his mind lingering on the word pregnancy. And it was then that Sekkachi realized she had made a terrible mistake. “Sekkachi!” he shouted, taking her by the shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that Rei and Kakashi are pregnant?”

               “I-I thought you knew…” Sekkachi stammered. Her hands grew clammy as she willed Guy to release her from his grip. She watched as he began to seemingly vibrate with excitement, something welling up deep within his chest before almost combusting. “Guy…don’t you dare. G-Guy, I swear to god! Don’t you—”

               And then he was off in a flash, racing down the street and skidding around corners fast as a bullet toward Rei and Kakashi’s apartment. He needed to confront his eternal rival on this wondrous news once and for all. Sekkachi dropped her head back with a groan before chasing after him. The pit of her chest tightened with regret and the fear of the impending confrontation. At least she knew Guy would likely take this far better than Rei’s parents would.

               Kakashi rested a gentle hand on his fiancée’s lower back as she leaned over the toilet, vomiting profusely yet again. She seemed to be so sick so often, he wondered how her body even managed it. He had watched the way her hands shook as she had stood over the sink that morning and brushed her hair slowly, methodically, as if the tangles were a tricky math problem that required focus and precision. The way her nose twitched and her face paled, the way she tried to swallow it back to no avail. He had skidded to her side the minute she spun and fell to her knees, scooting her closer to the toilet for extra security. She clung to the toilet seat with a white-knuckle grip, her body cold and clammy and her chest heaving monstrously. Once the expulsion was complete, she fell back into his lap gasping for breath, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

               “I’m so sorry, ‘Kashi” she gasped, shaking her head and raking her fingers through her hair.

               “Don’t apologize” he replied, leaning forward to flush the toilet for her. “I know you can’t help it.”

               “I just hate this so much” she whimpered, pressing her palm over her eyes. Her vision was spotty and warped, like right before she was to pass out.  

               “It’ll be okay” he assured her, rubbing her shoulder sweetly. “I was looking over those pamphlets and they said the vomiting usually dies down after the first trimester. Don’t worry, there’s an end in sight.” He fed her a reassuring smile, pressed his lips to her sweaty temple.

               “I hope so” Rei huffed. She shifted yet again, signalling that she was ready to stand. Kakashi rested a hand on her back as he rose to his feet behind her, ensuring that she would not fall, before extending a hand to help her up slowly.

               “Do you want me to stay with you while you get ready?” he asked. He was terrified of leaving her unsupervised, of all the negative possibilities that could occur.

               Rei sniffled and shook her head, leaning against the bathroom counter for support. “N-No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine” she assured him. Toshio nosed the bathroom door open, trudging up beside her as if to assure Kakashi that he could chaperone. Kakashi scratched the dog appreciatively behind the ear before planting another quick kiss on Rei’s cheek, then returning to the kitchen. Across the counter sat his abandoned breakfast preparations, miraculously untouched.

               As he whisked egg yolks in a bowl and hovered his hand over the frying pan, there was a rapid, rhythmic knock at the door and Kakashi’s body immediately went ice cold. He knew that knock anywhere. Roused from his morning haze, Toshio leapt to his feet and raced to the door, barking madly as if he, too, recognized the source of the sound. And with Toshio alerting their guest of their presence, Kakashi knew there was no avoiding the confrontation now. They could not hide from Might Guy.

               Sucking in a sharp breath, Kakashi drew his mask up over his face and slowly approached the door, mustering the mental strength to deal with Guy at this hour. Or at least under the current circumstances.

               Knowing Guy, he was most likely just vying for another sparring match. The fresh summer air always seemed to feed his insatiable energy. Kakashi redirected Toshio out of the way, clutched the doorknob, and rehearsed his polite refusal in the back of his mind. He would keep things vague, perhaps say he was just tired and that Rei had the stomach flu. He intended to tell Guy of the prengnacy in due time. It hadn’t even been a week since they had found out. He and Rei were still grasping at the weight of this new reality themselves. Keeping things vague would have to suffice.

               Kakashi creaked the door open with an already-apologetic smile. Without a moment of hesitation, Guy barged into the apartment and pointed at his eternal rival with a manic look in his eyes. “Kakashi!” he exclaimed and the Copy Ninja felt his body stiffen and chill. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could even make a sound, Guy interrupted yet again. And his words shot an icy bullet straight through Kakashi’s chest. “You didn’t tell me you were having a baby!”

               Oh no. Kakashi froze, speechless. Finally, he managed to muster a deflated, “Well, technically it’s not me who’s having the baby…” as he poked his stomach. Although maybe I ought to add some more sit-ups to my daily exercise routine, he then thought.

               Guy blinked despondently. “I mean you and Rei!” he clarified. There was perhaps an undercurrent of hurt in his voice, a sense of sadness in having been excluded from such a massive turn of events.

                “Listen, I-I was going to tell you this week” Kakashi stammered. “Guy, we only just found out.” He hated that he was so anxious about the thought of having perhaps angered Guy. Kakashi really meant no harm in not having told him the news yet. He hoped that Guy would understand.

               The bedroom door creaked open then and Rei trudged out into the light, rubbing her aching forehead and muttering under her breath. When she felt two pairs of eyes land on her, she paused and her own slowly widened. “What’s going on…?” she asked, looking from her fiancé to Guy and back. Before she could even receive half of an answer, Guy lunged forward and swept her up into a monstrous hug. A yelp escaped Rei’s lips, the abruptness of it all only worsening her headache. In the background, the pounding of frantic footsteps echoed in the complex’s hallway.

               “Shit” Sekkachi muttered under her breath, skidding to a halt in the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, gasping for breath. Her face was sallow and dewy with sweat. “I-I’m so fucking sorry” she whispered to Kakashi. “I tried to stop him but…” Her voice trailed off as she inhaled and pressed a hand to her side, hoping to still the sharp, stabbing cramps.

               “It’s okay” Kakashi whispered back. “I know Guy can be a little hard to, um…maintain.”

               Enthusiastic tears rolled down Guy’s cheeks as he squeezed Rei tightly. “I’m just so happy for you guys!” he cried. “The both of you are going to make stupendous parents! Your babies are going to be beautiful!”

               Sekkachi shook her head as she leaned against the doorway, replying softly to Kakashi, “Unfortunately.”

               And then Guy leaned back to get a better view of Rei, gushing, “And look at you! Already glowing with the spirit of fresh youth!”

               Rei blushed, averting her eyes with anxious laughter. “I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what happens when you spend all morning puking” she muttered under her breath.

               A weight released from Kakashi’s back as he watched the two of them interact. He was so terrified that Rei would be furious about Guy having found out the news before she could approve. Not that it was his fault, of course, but Rei’s temper had been questionable and Kakashi was the closest target. Dropping his shoulders, he skirted around to the sink and poured Sekkachi a much-needed glass of water. She took it graciously, muttering a thanks before taking a long, desperate swig. “So I take it you were the one who told her?” Kakashi then asked.

               With a gulp, Sekkachi slumped in defeat. “It just slipped out, I didn’t mean to” she sighed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

               “Well, Guy was bound to find out sooner or later” Kakashi replied, ruffling his hair. He glanced to his rival and fiancée over his shoulder and cringed in secondhand embarrassment. Guy had since transitioned into gushing about the amazing feats that Rei’s body was about to accomplish, of how incredible a process it all was, and orating several well-meaning but rather uneducated pregnancy facts. All the while, Kakashi could see Rei’s face tinge green, overwhelmed.

               To be fair, this was exactly why Kakashi had held off telling Guy right away. He had hoped that he would be able to handle things privately, preferably with Rei out of the picture. He didn’t want to add any more to her burden. She already had enough to worry about.

               “I guess I ought to step in and put an end to this” Sekkachi whispered, downing the last of her drink and slamming the empty glass on the counter. “Yo, Rei? Are you ready to go?” she called across the room.

               The mere mention of the word go caused Toshio’s ears to perk up, immediately rushing to Rei’s side to leap excitedly and nudge her hand with his snout. Rei wiggled out of Guy’s one-armed embrace, flashing him a half-assed apologetic smile. She allowed Toshio to tug her toward the front door by the hem of her tunic. He spun this way and that, nearly knocking Rei over as she stumbled to slip her shoes on. Smirking, Sekkachi extended an arm to help steady her as she hopped on one foot and tugged at her sandal. “You’re welcome” she whispered.

               Rei shook her head and rolled her eyes playfully, whispering back “I’m not out of the woods yet. Nowhere near it.” If anything, a part of her perhaps even hoped that Guy had taken over her entire afternoon. He was overwhelming, of course, but his positivity was a breath of fresh air. Deep down, they all knew that the rest of the afternoon would go nowhere near as smoothly.

               If Rei had it her way, she would never even have to tell her parents of the pregnancy to begin with. The fear of uncertainty was not the issue here—rather, the opposite. Her father would be furious at the thought of Kakashi even laying a roving hand on her in the first place, and her mother would surely break down in tears, relieved that Rei would finally abandon her dangerous career for the sake of sheltered domesticity. The thought of it all made Rei’s stomach churn. She swallowed back her anxiety as she gave Sekkachi a light shove on the shoulder. A silent plea that they needed to get out and fast.

               Kakashi paused for a moment as he watched Rei shove her way through the front door. The frying pan sizzled and hissed on the stovetop. “Rei, w-wait!” he called after her. “What about breakfast?”

               Rei glanced at him over her shoulder and for a moment he swore her entire body was trembling. “I’m not hungry!” she called back to him, waving him off dismissively. Gripping Sekkachi’s wrist, Rei tugged her around the corner and they were gone.

               Kakashi tried to handle Rei’s faltering appetite with grace. He tried to remind himself of how unruly stomach had been as of late, and that he should not force her to eat when she was already so sick. And yet the thought of her skipping meals made him anxious. He pursed his lips behind his mask, turned back to the kitchen. Guy cocked a brow in curiosity as he sensed the unease. With a sigh, Kakashi poured the eggs into the pan with a hiss and asked over his shoulder, “Are you hungry?”

               Much like the rest of Konohagakure, the Kaminoki Bookshop was quiet for a Monday morning. Toshio pushed the door open with his nose, the bell overhead chiming to signal their arrival. Slumped behind the counter was Yuzu enthralled in some book about the Third Great Ninja War. She glanced up for only a second, calling up the stairs, “Mrs. Natsuki! Your daughter’s here!”

               “Thank you, Yuzu! I’ll be right down!” Hana replied. Rei could hear her padding around upstairs, likely in the kitchen by the geography of her footfalls. She seemed louder now than before, heavier, as if at any moment she would break through the ceiling and crash down on top of her. An anxious lump rose into the back of Rei’s throat and without another moment of hesitation, she ducked behind one of the bookshelves for respite. Rei launched herself toward the political texts and tugged down a massive hardback almost too heavy for her to carry.

               “What are you doing…?” Sekkachi whispered, eyeing her suspiciously. “I thought you were to look for books on the p-r-e-g.”

               “I am, you idiot” Rei whispered back, adjusting the book in her hands. She propped open the cover, began ripping off the dust jacket. “What? Do you think the pregnancy brain has already fucked me over? No. I just need to handle this delicately.” Toshio huffed and nodded as if to emphasize his master’s point.

               Sekkachi cocked a brow as she watched Rei shove the book, naked, back onto the shelf and then spin into the arts and sciences aisle. She skipped past anatomy, astronomy, biology, and chemistry all the way up to the pregnancy and reproduction section. There were only a handful of books, many of them dated or otherwise ignored and coated with a thick layer of dust. Rei pulled the most popular title into her arms, shoving the political dust jacket over the cover, and began flicking through. She paused on the fetal development chart.

               Peering over her shoulder, Sekkachi snorted and asked, “So which one of these is yours?” She chuckled at how bizarre the images looked, like little aliens.

               “Probalby this one” Rei whispered back, pointing to the image marked as eight weeks. Sekkachi squinted down at it, studying the curled little figure with beady eyes and unformed features.

               After a moment of deliberation, Sekkachi blurted out, “It looks like a shrimp.”

               Toshio barked loudly, as if in response to the mention of food. And then all at once, he nudged Rei hard on the back of her thigh, whipped around, on high alert. “There you girls are!” a voice called from around the corner—Rei’s mother. Startled, Rei yelped and stumbled backward, knocking into the fine arts section. A handful of poetry anthologies tumbled to the ground. “What are you doing looking at pregnancy books, anyway?” Hana then asked, her eyes darting to the book in Rei’s hand. The dust jacket had gone crooked, the cover of What to Expect When You’re Expecting poking out from behind. Rei’s entire body went cold. She was paralyzed.

               “I was looking for my cousin” Sekkachi suddenly interrupted, stepping in front of Rei and waving her book in Hana’s face. “Tenjikubotan got knocked up so she asked me to look into some pregnancy manuals for her. She’s all hellbent on learning about ‘the beauty of her body’ and all that good shit.”

               Numbing shock made way for chilling relief as Rei felt the pressure release from her shoulders. Sekkachi always had been a clever liar.

               “Oh! Well then tell Tenjikubotan I said congratulations!” Hana beamed. Beneath the delight, however, her voice was tense. Desperate. Flooded with undercurents of her own deep-seated desires for Rei’s life. Rei’s chest tightened as the weight of it pressed hard against her chest, suffocating her. Her mother’s face began to warp in front of her eyes, the bookshelves twisting and swaying and the floor beneath her beginning to cave in. She could see Hana’s lips moving, hear her voice speaking, but she could not comprehend the sound. Rei clutched her book even tighter, the mere thought of it making her sick. Her eyes dropped to the floor, to the poetry books scattered at her feet. Only one had fallen face-up, the sharp words staring back at her with disgusting irony. You are on the eve of a devastating psychological upheaval. A whimper rose up into Rei’s throat as the weight in her chest grew heavier. And then there was a slap on her shoulder, hard and fast. The world clicked back into place.

               “Well, Rei? What do you think?” Sekkachi asked through gritted teeth, jerking her gaze toward Hana’s direction.

               Rei cleared her throat, croaked out a weak, “W-what did you say, Mom…?”

               “I said I just finished making some lemonade, if you want to come up for a drink!” Hana repeated. “Perfect for a hot day like this!”

               “O-Oh…” Rei whispered. “Y-Yeah…that would be…that would be great.”

               Upstairs, the apartment was flooded with an almost ethereal summer light. The windows were propped open and a light breeze billowed the curtains, sheer and graceful. Ice cubes clinked in a pitcher of lemonade on the kitchen counter, already beginning to sweat. Everything was warm and bright and promising. Rei sucked in a deep breath and hoped for peace.

               “I see the lemonade has attracted company, huh?” an old voice jested. On the couch sat Grandma Teiko hunched over a book. She licked her fingertip as she turned the page, a smile inching across her wrinkled face. She met Rei’s gaze then and there was something in her wise eyes that scared her. Something knowing. With the support of her cane, she hoisted herself to her feet and shuffled towared her granddaughter, pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek. Her varicose hands trembled and her lips felt colder than normal. “I guess summer has been kind to you” she then said, idling on Rei’s face for  a moment. “You seem very full of life.”

               Oh god. Rei’s back shot ramrod straight and she could feel the heat creep across the back of her neck. There was no way Grandma Teiko could know. Who told her? When did she find out? This was all too much. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Perhaps it was a joke. But then again, Grandma Teiko had strange ways. Grandma Teiko knew everything.

               “You do have a certain glow about you, dear” Hana commented, setting out four glasses and distributing the lemonade. Toshio strained his neck to sniff along the edge of the counter, hoping to steal a taste for himself. Hana instead fished a ceramic bowl from the cabinet, filled it with water, and set it down upon the floor for him. Defeated, he trudged toward his place setting and began lapping up his drink sloppily, splashing water all across the kitchen floor.

                Sekkachi watched him for a moment before adding, “The heat does that to you.” She nodded toward Hana in thanks as she took her glass.

               “Yeah, the heat’s, uh…the heat’s been a killer” Rei muttered as she received her own. Her eyes dropped to the floor as she took a meager sip. The lemonade was so tart and cold, it nearly made her lips pucker, but it felt incredible as it rushed down her throat. She voraciously guzzled the rest and set her glass on the counter, half-hoping her mother would automatically provide her with seconds.

               “Well, I hope you’re staying hydrated out there” Hana said. She eyed Rei’s glass curiously but was too delighted to complain. Lifting the pitcher, she poured Rei another glass. “You spend so much time outside with that damn job of yours, I don’t know how you don’t pass out every day.”

               Rei pursed her lips, eyes bugged out in anxiety as she took another long drink. “Believe me, that’s uh…that’s not the worst of my worries” she muttered. Grandma Teiko cocked a brow and Rei immediately wished she had never said anything.

               “Well, just be grateful you still have your health” Hana then said, raising a finger matter-of-factly. “You know, just the other day, my friend’s cousin’s mother had to be whisked off to the hospital for heat exhaustion and you know what happened? She didn’t make it, the poor girl. Dehydrated beyond repair. But then again, she was also 97 and had other health complications so I’m sure that that had something to do with it…”

               For a moment, Rei’s frustration at her mother’s aimless interest stalled long enough for her to feel relieved that she did not linger on Rei’s words. She took another swig of her lemonade as she half-listened to Hana’s tale. All the while, she swore she could feel Grandma Teiko’s gaze everpresent on her back.

               The rest of the afternoon progressed in much the same way, with Hana going off on tangents about her friends and especially the mundane occurrences in their childs’ lives. Truthfully, Rei never cared much for Hana’s friends nor any of their families. They were too self-interested, as if their own little sphere of the world was all that mattered. They knew nothing of struggle, stress, and strife. Not compared to her. Rei pressed a hand to her unruly stomach as she finished off her fourth glass of lemonade and prayed for peace.

               The thing about it all that bothered Rei the most, however, was that Hana never bothered to ask about her. She made little remarks about her career and impatient comments about wedding plans, but not much else. As the afternoon progressed further, the sun beginning to descend in the west, Rei’s anxiety only expanded further like a black hole in her chest. She needed her mother to show even a glimmer of interest aside from berating her. Just one tiny spark and Rei would have her segue into this terrifying news. The longer she waited, the more terrifying the prospect of it all became.

               And then the chime of the bell echoed from downstairs and seemed to snap Hana from her summery daze. “I suppose I better return to work!” she gasped, skirting around the kitchen counter. “Your father would be furious if he knew I was up here wasting time chatting during business hours.”

               Rei pursed her lips, glanced around the apartment. “Where is dad, anyway…?” His supposed absence was equal parts relieving and concerning. Perhaps he was off to pick up a new shipment at Ressha Junction, or maybe it was just time for him to renew his business license at the registrar’s office. Regarldess of the reason, deep down a part of Rei hoped that he would not return until late. That way she could procrastinate even further. But even then, she felt unresolved. While she didn’t necessarily want to face her father with this news, she knew it was better to do this quickly and completely. To tell the whole family at once rather than in separate, equally terrifying little instances. A clean cut, quick like a bandaid or a beheading.

               Teiko chuckled and rested a gentle hand on Rei’s shoulder. “Where do you think, girl?” she replied, motioning with her thumb toward the locked office door across the room. If Rei listened closely enough, she could hear the scratch of Yuruganai’s pen on paper, the tap of his fingertips against the buttons of his calculator. Curiosity piqued, Toshio lifted his head from his bowl, water dripping down his mouth sloppily, before lumbering nearer and sniffing under the door.  

               “I should’ve known” Rei scoffed, shaking her head. Busy as always. She glanced to her mother, wondering if she was stupid. Clearly her father already knew about Hana’s social hour. Whether he cared or not was another matter entirely.

               Hana pursed her lips and shook her head as if in disdain for Rei’s lack of appreciation. Yuruganai worked hard and he deserved respect. She almost scolded her daughter for being so apathetic but held her tongue. Instead, she rested a a gentle hand on Sekkachi’s shoulder and asked, “By the way, did you find any books for Tenjikubotan? We might as well ring those up for you while we’re at it.”

               Sekkachi glanced to Rei with a knowing smirk. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I found a few” she replied. Pleased, Hana ushered her excitedly downstairs.

               Rei wasn’t sure whether to trust Sekkachi’s judgment or to launch herself before her in the stairwell and stop her from whatever informational crimes she was about to commit. Either way, however, she knew that was the least of her worries. As she watched them descend, an icy defeat unfurled from the pit of her stomach. Her window of opportunity had slammed shut and crushed her fingers in the sill on the way down. Rei opened her mouth in attempted protest but no sound came out. She was completely and utterly hopeless.

               And then a shaky hand patted her on the shoulder, warm and comforting. Rei’s stomach flipped. She turned slowly and there was a knowing twinkle in Grandma Teiko’s eyes. She took hold of Rei’s wrist, turned her palm skyward, and in it placed a very small and worn book the size of a pocket dictionary. A Shinobi’s Guide to Growing a Life. The silhouette of a pregnant woman was stamped on the cover, the text in simple blue. Rei’s breath hitched in her throat, her vision beginning to blur. All she could manage to croak out was a strained, “H-How did you know…?”

               “When you’ve been around as long as I have, you just have an intuition for these things” Grandma Teiko chirped, patting an approaching Toshio affectionately on the head. The dog sniffed the air, licked at her fingertips with his spotted tongue, barked in delight. Teiko couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently Toshio approved of her gift, too. The old woman reached out then to press a hand to Rei’s warm, blushed cheek. A promise. “Besides, you’ve got this glow about you, girl. The type of glow you only get when you’re expecting.”

               An incredulous, teary laugh broke past Rei’s lips as she lunged forward to wrap Grandma Teiko in a warm embrace. Her fingers grazed the imprint of the woman’s spine through her kimono, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. It was inconsequential. “I just wish I knew how to tell my parents” Rei whispered, leaning back to press the heel of her hand to her teary eyes.

               “Don’t you worry, girl” Teiko assured her, her face wrinkling with a smile. “They’ll be easier to break the news to than you think.”

               “I’m just grateful that you at least know now” Rei sniffled. “I know I’m going to feel a lot safer telling them with your support.”

               Grandma Teiko gave a single nod, chuckling. “You know you’ve always had my support” she replied. “How do you think you want to do it?”

               “Well, I was hoping to tell them today” Rei admitted, “but clearly that didn’t work out.”

               “It wouldn’t have been a good time anyway” Teiko shook her head. “Your father’s been up in arms about the last quarter, and your mother is in too good a mood.”

               Rie pursed her lips, considering her grandmother’s analysis. “I guess the only way to do it would be over dinner or something” she brainstormed.

               “That would probably be best” Teiko agreed. “Stage it for your mother like you want to discuss wedding plans. She’ll like that.”

               “You think so?” Rei asked. Grandma Teiko cocked a brow as if to insinuate that that was a stupid question. Of course Hana would take delight in such an idea. After all, she was the one who eagerly took Rei wedding dress shopping only a few weeks earlier. She yearned to involve herself completely in the wedding arrangements. Laughing, Rei muttered, “I guess you’re right.”

               “I promise, girl, it won’t go nearly as bad as you think it will” Teiko repeated, patting Rei comfortingly on the back. She shuffled toward the staircase, both of them knowing full well that Hana would get suspicious if they hung back too long.

               “I hope you’re right” Rei murmured as she idled at the top of the stairs. Toshio nudged her hand comfortingly as she gazed down the daunting, narrow stairwell. Echoes of Hana and Sekkachi’s conversation vibrated through the air. Something in her chest stuck.

               And then she felt a hesitation in the air, a strange heaviness. Grandma Teiko reached out for Rei’s wrist yet again and now there was something very different in the old woman’s face. A bittersweet softness unlike anything Teiko had expressed before. The world began to sway to and fro, colors pulsing and fading in threatening technicolor. Something was not right. Rei’s head became heavy and unstable, vision blurring as if in a fog. Grandma Teiko was different now and it terrified her. Something was not right.

               “Rei…” the old woman murmured, and for a moment Rei swore there were tears in her eyes. She pursed her lips, hesitated a moment, then reached a varicose hand out to rest upon Rei’s stomach. “I just need you to know…you’re going to make a great mother.”

               “G-Grandma…” Rei whispered, placing her hand over Teiko’s. She thought of the little life inside of her, of this massive generational gap. A vision of the possible future flickered in the back of her mind: of Teiko sitting in a hospital room, so small and hunched compared to the large arm chair in the corner, cradling a swaddled newborn in her arms. Of a tiny hand reaching out to wrap around the old woman’s finger. Of the love between a great grandmother and a new little life.

               “To think, all those years ago, you never thought you’d get this” Teiko continued, laughing softly. “And now here you are. An accomplished kunoichi, captain of the ANBU black ops. Marrying the man you’ve always loved, and the two of you bringing a life into the world. I’m so…I’m so proud of you, Rei. I don’t think I could ever be prouder.”

               “O-Oh god, Grandma, I just—” Rei stammered, her voice strangled with emotion. She swallowed hard in an effort to remain composed, to halt the tears threatening to spill out from inside of her. She could not cry—not now. She could not handle the confrontation of stepping into that bookstore, eyes puffy and bloodshot, and having to explain to her mother why she had become so overtaken. Rei sucked in a deep breath, increasing the pressure against Grandma Teiko’s hand ever so slightly, dropped her shoulders and forced herself to stay calm. And then, licking her lips, she whispered softly, “Thank you.” A moment of hesitation. A rising sensation in the pit of Rei’s chest. And then, without wasting another moment, she surged forward and wrapped the old woman in one last tight hug. An airy sob broke past her lips. The steady thump of Grandma Teiko’s heart pulsed against Rei’s chest. “Thank you for everything.”

               Grandma Teiko petted Rei’s unruly hair and planted a quick, trembling kiss on her forehead. “Your future looks so bright, girl. Never stop chasing that light, do you understand? Don’t ever let it falter.”

               “I know” Rei whispered. It was the same sentiment that Grandma Teiko had always instilled her: to keep going, no matter the odds. No matter what anyone else had to say, including her own mind. To persevere, prove her worth, triumph. “I won’t” Rei promised. “You know I won’t.” She leaned back again, smiling fondly, before whispering then, “I can’t wait for you to meet this baby, Grandma. I can’t wait for you to love them and support them and teach them everything they need to know about life, the same wa you did for me.”

               Grandma Teiko gave a single nod, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I know, girl” she whispered. “This little baby has a bright future ahead of her, too. I just know it.” Rei nodded, sniffling as she tried yet again to compose herself. The heaviness in her chest screamed at her to linger in this moment for a little while longer, to absorb every ounce of this fleeting liminal space, but Grandma Teiko would not have it. “Go on, now, get going” she whispered, urging Rei down the stairs. “Your mother is going to have a fit if you waste any more time.”

               While Rei did not consider any of this a waste of time in the slightest, she knew that Grandma Teiko was right. The longer they spent here, the greater Hana’s suspicion would become. Rei could not afford any more complications. The situation at hand must be handled delicately and unfortunately that meant being timely and unassuming. Rei planted one more quick kiss on Grandma Teiko’s cheek, taking her hands in hers as she assured, “I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Grandma Teiko gave a single nod in understanding before giving Rei’s shoulder a light shove, an encouragement for her to be on her way. The stairwell didn’t seem quite as daunting anymore, nor did the echoes of conversation floating up from downstairs. The promise of Grandma Teiko’s support filled her with a newfound strength and calm, something Rei desperately needed at a time like this. No longer was she as scared of what was to come. So long as Grandma Teiko was by her side advocating for her, Rei would be just fine.

               Sekkachi hefted the heavy tote of pregnancy books onto her shoulder as she and Rei made their way back down the street. “You know, you owe me big time for this” she huffed.

               “Sorry” Rei cringed, though deep down she couldn’t help but be amused. “Do you want me to pay you back in money or packs of cigarettes?”

               “Very funny” Sekkachi snarked. “Just be lucky I love you.”

               Rei grinned mischievously. “I always am” Then, reaching for the bag, she asked, “Do you at least want me to take those off your hands? I mean, they are my books, after all.”

               Sekkachi shoved her lightly out of the way, however, and shook her head. “Didn’t you ever hear that pregnant women aren’t supposed to do any heavy lifting?”

               “Come on, it can’t be that heavy” Rei replied.

               Rolling her eyes, Sekkachi fired back, “Want to bet?” She readjusted the bag on her shoulder, gripping the strap both to ensure that it would stay put and as a defense mechanism toward Rei. “What took you so long, anyway? Were you stealing the rest of your mom’s lemonade or something?”

               Rei hated that even the mere mention of her mother’s lemonade left her salivating. An ache rooted in her chest at the thought of it, light and cold and pucker-sweet. She would have to get the recipe, or just pay her mother to make her seven gallons worth. But that was not important right now. Shaking her head, she replied, “Just having a private talk with Grandma Teiko. She, uh…she knows.” Rei fished the little book out of her back pouch then, holding up for Sekkachi to see. Toshio peered up curiously as the trio walked along.

                Sekkachi’s eyes skated across the cover before laughing and shaking her head. “I should’ve known” she said. “I swear, that women must be a fucking psychic or something.”

               “Pretty close to it” Rei laughed. As she tucked the book back into her pouch, her opposite hand idled on her stomach. She mused for a moment on life, on the miraculous nature of existence, of death and birth and the fragility of it all. Of the little baby growing inside of her, small and weak and strange. An amalgamation of cells, features unformed, a creature not yet evolved. It still didn’t feel entirely real. “I just hope…” Rei then said, voice much softer now. Sekkachi and Toshio both eyed her curiously. Rei sucked in a deep breath. “I just hope that Grandma Teiko was right. That my future—our future—is as bright as she says it is.”

               “Why should you think any different?” Sekkachi asked. Smirking, she added, “I mean, I’m sure it will be. After all, doesn’t Grandma Teiko know everything?”

               “You’re right” Rei laughed, rubbing her stomach tenderly. A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips and for perhaps the first time, she found herself beginning to truly accept the matter at hand. The promise of becoming a mother, regardless of the bad timing and all the strings attached. We’ll be alright, baby, she thought to herself. Grandma Teiko is never wrong. We just need to keep chasing that light.

               Baby, our future is so, so bright.

[average-luck-charlie]

A/N; this is probably the only work I’m going to post on here, but I was very proud of this one. Word Count: 2.6k

TW: Sad/Angsty. Talks about war, although not in a lot of detail.

Edmund Pevensie - The Kings Go To War

*************************************************

'Tomorrow he’ll be gone, and I’ll be left wondering if he’d come back to me or not. Tomorrow I am going to be curled up in my bed refusing to come out. Tomorrow the whole castle will be quiet and solemn. Tomorrow the kings go to war.'

**********************************************

“Y/N? Are you alright? You haven’t been paying attention, it’s not like you.” The young king asked, as he tried to meet my gaze. 

I glanced up at him to see him staring intently at me. “I’m fine, I just have a lot on my mind.”

Instead of answering me, he started placing all the pieces on the chess board back where they belonged. We had previously been in the middle of a game, when Peter informed us about Archenland's need for help. The war between them and Calormen had been going on for a few months, and Archenland was in need of resources. Everyone had been planning and making arrangements, with no time to spare. So there sat the chess pieces, unmoved for a week in a study that went unused. 

“You always feel better after we play.” Edmund said as he placed the last pieces down. “I’ll even let you win if you want. Since you can’t do it on your own.”

I scoffed as I moved my first piece “I could beat you any day.”

He grinned as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Game on.”

**********************************************

“Stop cheating!” I groaned as Edmund dramatically hit my king off of the table and onto the floor for the 7th time.

“I’m not cheating you are just predictable.” He said with a laugh before setting the pieces back up.

I got up, smoothing out my dress a bit as I ran my fingers along the spines of the books lining the walls. It was supposed to be Edmund's study, but he ended up turning it into his own personal library.

Once Edmund had gotten tired of my nagging about picking up the books he had taken from the real library and never returned, he decided to make shelves. It gave us something to do, and it only took about two weeks.They weren’t very tall, only about 6 feet, and they lined the top and bottom stories of the study.  A few of them had carvings on the sides, one from each of his siblings, and one from me.

Lucy’s design was the most intricate, with different  flowers, leaves, trees, and lion heads scattered among the wood. Peter’s was simple yet beautiful. He carved the Narnian crest into the sides of his. Susan carved daffodils, and suns onto hers, while Edmund refused to carve one because he said he didn’t want his own work on display in his study.

I didn’t want to carve one either, mostly because I couldn’t come up with what to carve, but also because I wasn’t a very good artist. I was very particular,and if it didn’t turn out the way I pictured I wouldn’t want it where anyone would see it. Once Edmund had pestered me about it for 5 hours straight I gave in and carved a moon, and a lake with some flowers around the edges.  I said it looked awful and asked if we could use it for firewood instead but he waved me off and put it in its spot “Oh shut up it’s great.” He had said before placing it next to the others.

I smiled softly as my fingers dragged along the books, before tracing some of the carvings. 

"Edmund?" I asked, not turning around. I knew how the conversation would turn out but I had to try one last time before he left. 

"Yeah?" 

"Couldn't I go with you and Peter?" When he didn't answer I turned towards him to see him looking at me. I assumed he would look annoyed since I had been asking him all week, but he wasn't. His eyes shined, like he was about to cry but he didn't. He just smiled sadly. "I'm a good fighter so you wouldn't have to worry about me on the battle field. I could help tend to the wounded as well, I do train with the court physician after all. Please?"  As I spoke, I moved back to my chair, leaning against the side of it.

"Y/N-" he started before I cut in again. 

"I don't even have to fight, I can just help out in the medical tent! Or I could-" 

"Y/N!" He said louder. 

I didn't bother looking at him. Suddenly my hands were very interesting because I didn't take my eyes off of them. I just sat down silently, playing with my dress, or tapping my thigh. 

"We've already been over this. You are staying here with Susan and Lucy. You guys have to take care of things here." He said again. It was the same excuse each time. 

" I want a real reason! It's not like I'm queen. Besides Susan and Lucy can handle running the kingdom on their own. If you give me a good reason. A real reason. I'll drop it." 

Silence filled the room, as Edmund ran his fingers through his hair. The only sounds that could be heard where our breathing, and Edmund's silent plea to end the conversation. When I finally looked up from my hands, he was messing with the knight piece of the chess board. After several minutes of silence, a knock came at the door. 

"Edmund, Y/N? Come downstairs, dinner is ready." Susan called out before the sound of her footsteps faded away. 

I rose out of my chair and left the room without my answer. I knew he couldn't have had a good reason, but I also knew that if he asked me to stay behind I would. If it was anyone else, I would have told them I was going whether they approved or not. With Edmund it was different. It was hard to say no to him. The amount of times we got in trouble together was astounding, and most of them were because I wouldn't say no. Not that I very much minded, since Peter, Susan and Lucy would just scold us a bit before letting us go. The whole time I was walking, I never heard his footsteps, nor did I hear him leave the study. 

When I entered the dining room alone, the others gave me questioning looks. I just stayed quiet and sat in my seat, only speaking to say thank you for the food. Lucy started talking with her siblings like normal, which was nice. She always told nice stories, and it gave me something to focus on. About 20 minutes later Edmund finally decided to show up. He apologized for being late, and when he was asked why he just said "I was taking care of something." 

The whole room felt apprehensive. I couldn't tell if it was because of the war the next day or if it was because of the tension between Edmund and I. Either way it was uncomfortable. Lucy tried to be her usual happy self, but you could tell her heart wasn't truly in the stories. I finished before the others, but that's only because I hadn't eaten very much. I had lost my appetite, and spent most of the dinner pushing the food around the plate. Deciding against staying, I excused myself and headed up to my room. 

My room wasn't anything grand, but it was very pleasant. There was a desk against one wall, with papers and ink.  Next to it was a small bookshelf. On the opposite wall there was a vanity with different drawers for makeup, and brushes among other things. There was a small box on top for jewelry. On the same wall was a wardrobe with different dresses and shirts inside. There was a queen sized bed, neatly made, with a nightstand on one side. At the far end of the room was a door that lead to the washroom. It was the same as every other guest room in terms of furniture. It was smaller compared to the bedrooms of the kings and queens, but I didn't mind. After all I was just a friend of the royal family. I didn't actually have any status. 

Once I had entered my room, and shut the heavy wooden doors behind me, I moved to stand in front of the open window. Directly below was the training grounds, and straight out was open fields of green. Spring was one of the nicest times in Narnia. All of the flowers were blooming, beautiful cherry blossom and apple trees were growing. The ground was soft, green, and dewy in the mornings. The sky was always a bright blue, with little clouds in the sky, but it stayed rather warm. The only differences between Spring and Summer in Narnia were the types of plants that grew, and the temperature. In summer it got hot, but not unbearably so. In spring though it was still rather cool, especially in the mornings but warmed up nicely by the afternoon. Spring was one of my favorite times of year. 

I spent a few minutes just looking outside, but eventually went to the washroom to take a quick bath. I didn't take very long, only about 15 minutes. I only really needed to wash my hair, but I figured a full bath couldn't hurt. I got out and changed into a green tunic, that I had stolen from Edmund, and a pair of brown pants. It was getting late and I normally slept in a shirt anyway, so I figured there was no reason to put on a dress again. While sitting at the vanity and untangling my hair, I heard a knock at the door. 

"Come In!" I called out as I brushed out the ends of my hair. The big doors swung open, and Edmund walked into the room, shutting them behind him. I glanced to see who it was before turning back to the mirror. "Have you come to tell me I can go?" I asked hopefully. 

"No. Actually I came to give you my reason." He said as I turned to face him. "You said if I gave you a good reason you would stop asking to go right?" 

I nodded, finally giving him my full attention. He sat on the end of the bed leaning back slightly on his hands. He looked tired, not like he hadn't slept, but like he had done too much. 

"Nevermind" I said with a sigh as I moved to sit next to him. "I don't need a reason. If you want me to stay behind and help here.....I will." I felt guilty giving him another thing to worry about. With all the plans, and having to go to war, he didn't need me causing anymore stress. It was going to be just as hard on him if not more so, he was leaving his sisters behind as well. 

He smiled at me, before laying all the way back, his hands resting behind his head. "Thank you." 

"I do have one condition though." I said, earning a confused look from him. "You do everything you can to come home. I want you and Peter home in one piece. So don't do anything stupid, although that might be hard for you." I said with a grin, as Edmund started laughing. 

"I promise." He said 

"One more thing?" I asked as he rolled his eyes. "I get to stay with you tonight. Seeing as how you are going to be gone for a long while." 

"I don't know... that might be asking too much.” He said with a grin before lying all the way back on the bed. 

“I’ll miss you.... you know that right?” I said quietly as I kept my gaze on the floor “You’re my best friend and I-“

“Will you stop talking like I’m not coming back? I already promised I’d come back to you and that I would drag Peter with me.” Edmund said cutting me off. His breathing was calm, and his voice was level.

I glanced back at him and noticed his eyes were closed. His soft brown curls fell into his face, and he had a small smile on his face. He looked peaceful and happy.

How can he be happy? He’s going to war tomorrow for who knows how long. Why is he smiling?

“How can you do that?” I whispered, as I shifted my gaze to my hands shakily playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Hmm?” He mumbled, as I felt him moving a bit on the bed.

“How can you be smiling!? How can you lay there and act like this doesn’t bother you. YOU ARE GOING TO WAR! People are going to die Edmund, lots of them! You are leaving me behind to go fight a war and I’m gonna be STUCK HERE DOING NOTHING, WAITING TO FIND OUT IF YOU ARE GONNA BREAK YOUR PROMISE! HOW CAN YOU NOT BE WORRIED OR UPSET OR ANYTHING!?” I shouted as tears poured down my cheeks and rained onto my clenched fists.

Silence.... not a word was said, just quiet. I couldn’t hear anything over the sounds of my sobs, and my breathing getting heavier. My chest started to burn and ache as I dug my nails into the palms of my hands. The birds weren’t chirping, the wind wasn’t whistling, the sea wasn’t singing. It’s like everything could tell there wasn’t anything to be happy or cheerful about. 

Edmunds calloused hands softly cupped my cheeks, as his thumbs brushed away some of the tears. Carefully he slid a hand to the back of my head, and the other down to my waist before pulling me down to lay on top of him. He didn’t speak, he just let me sob into his shoulder as his fingers wove in and out of my hair, and his thumb traced circles on my back.

I don’t know how long we laid there, but it felt like forever. I eventually calmed down enough to stop crying, and for my breathing to even out. I didn’t try to get up, and neither did Edmund. We just laid there.

“It does bother me you know. I have to watch Peter and the Narnian’s fight, and I am going to see my friends die. I’m going to be away from you, and away from Susan and Lucy. It’s not easy for me either.” He said finally breaking the silence. His voice was quiet and a little raspy, but he never raised it to its normal level. It was like he was worried someone would hear him. “If I said I was scared what kind of example would that be? People are looking for me to lead them, they don’t want a coward they want a leader. If Susan and Lucy saw me scared, they’d just be more worried when I left. I have to be strong for them. For all of them.”

It was quiet and it was brief, but I heard it clearly. His voice cracked. I realized too late why he didn’t raise his voice, and why his hand stayed on the back of my head. Why he kept me facing away from him.

He was crying.

“Being scared doesn’t make you a coward. It makes you human. Anyone who isn’t scared to fight a war is either a liar or doesn’t care about living.” I whispered as I tightened my grip around his waist. “I’ll be strong for you Ed I promise. I’ll look after Susan and Lucy. You don’t have to worry about them. Just focus on winning okay? Focus on coming home.”

“Thank you”

[aquaticalay]

If You Love Me (Carol Danvers x fem! reader)

Summary: Carol’s aging process was slowed when she was exposed to the tesseract’s energy. She met you and started dating, but after a turn of events, dawned on her that you were only human, you were going to age and die faster than her.

Word Count: 1294

Genre: angst, but fluff in the end :)

Warning(s): Spoiler-ish (mostly for Captain Marvel’s post credit scene)

Also, I don’t know shit about medical procedures, so correct me if I’m wrong.

The first time Carol met you, you were with the other avengers, trying to find out who Fury called with his pager. Everything seemed like a dead end.  The pager seemed to emit a beeping sound. Until finally, the beeping ended. You leaned forward, studying whatever it is to see if you’ve missed something. It doesn’t look like you’ve had.

“This is a nightmare,” Steve sighed. This might seem like the end of the line, but Steve wasn’t going to give up so easily. Natasha tilted her head slightly, “I’ve had better nightmares.”

“Hey,” Rhodey greeted, entering the room, “So that thing just… stopped doing whatever the hell it’s doing.”

The tension heightened in the room. “Hey, doc.” Natasha called Bruce to join them. What’s left of the avengers gathered around the pager.  

“Whatever signal it’s sending has been cut off,” Bruce said. Bruce looked tired, as did the rest of the team.

“I thought we bypassed the battery,” Steve asked. Rhodey nodded his head, “We did. It’s still plugged, it’s just- it stopped.”

“Reboot and start the signal again,” Steve demanded. You looked at Steve and said, “We don’t even know what this is.”

“But Fury did,” Natasha mentioned, “Tell me as soon as you get a signal, I want to know who’s at the end of that thing.”

You sighed and turned around. You almost yelped in surprise. A blonde woman in a red, gold, and blue suit looked at you sternly, “Where’s Fury?”

That was two years ago.

After finally restoring the souls lost during Thanos’ snap, Carol decided to stay on earth and join the Avengers. The main reason she wanted to stay was so she could protect her home planet. But she had also found love. She found that love in you.

A week after the Avengers and Guardians undid the effects of Thanos’ snap, Carol had asked you out. You agreed without a doubt, and had the best day of your life. It wasn’t a fancy dinner, no. The two of you bought lunch from your favorite food truck. You went for a stroll in Central Park, and when Carol saw the Central Park Zoo , she practically beamed with excitement and tugged your sleeve towards the zoo.

You also had spent the day trying to teach her modern earth technology, like smartphones. Carol hadn’t returned to earth in almost 25 years, and you found it adorable when she was stubbornly focused on a gadget, and insisted that she can figure the smartphone out all on her own.

One date lead to another, and another. On your third date, you mustered up the courage to kiss her, standing on your tip toes. Carol tensed up, not knowing how to react. You reluctantly pulled away, unsure if it was too early.

“I’m sorry, I-” you started to apologize, but Carol just smiled and caressed your cheek lovingly, leaning down, she kissed you, softly as if you were glass. You smiled into the kiss, hoping that this moment would last forever.

That was more than a year ago.

Carol just moved in your apartment three months ago, and she seemed very happy.

A month after she moved in, something happened.

You were watching Star Wars on the couch, huddled against Carol. “Honestly? The best thing about this movie is BB-8,” She quipped. You were about to counter her argument that the best part of the movie was Chewie, but suddenly, your brain encountered a severe headache. It came out of nowhere, “My head hurts like hell.” Your vision became blurry. “(Y/n)?” you barely heard her shout. “(Y/n)!” she shouted frantically. You tried to open your mouth to answer, but you failed.

The last thing you saw was Carol and her muffled panic, trying to get you up.

-

Carol rushed you to the medical bay in the Avengers HQ. She called for Stephen Strange, and the doctor arrived as fast as he could. “What happened?” he asked. Carol held your hand tighter, “She said she had a severe headache, and the next thing I know, she fainted,” Carol explained as best as she could calmly, but her voice wavered.

“Alright,” Stephen took a deep breath, like he knew what he was dealing with already. “Page doctor Cho,” he said to a nurse, “and prepare (Y/n) for a CT scan.”

All Carol could do was wait. She felt helpless. You have been diagnosed with brain aneurysm, and you were currently unconscious on the operating table, Strange and Cho leading the procedure. All these hours reminded Carol that you wre mortal. Even after this surgery, you would still age faster than Carol.  She would one day had to live an a world without you, and she couldn’t bare the thought of it.

A few hours later, Strange told her that the procedure was a success.

Relieved, she followed Strange into (Y/n)’s room, looking like she was peacefully asleep.

Four hours later, you regained consciousness. “Carol,” You said with a raspy voice. Carol jumped from her seat. “You’re awake,” she said, feeling like the weight on her shoulders just lifted.

Three days later, you were discharged. You were healing very fast, thanks to Wakandan healing technology.

Arriving at your shared apartment, you dived face first into your shared bed, “It’s so fluffy!” you exclaimed, and the only thing you got was a slight, half-hearted smile from Carol.

You tilted your head, “Is everything okay?”

Carol snapped out of her daze and nodded. Something felt off. Carol ignored you and changed to her sleeping clothes and climbed on to the bed. She turned her back on you, and fell asleep without a word.

A week passed between the two of you, living in the same apartment, but barely speaking.

One night, you couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

You were watching TV mindlessly, while Carol just stepped out of the shower.

Carol, now dressed in her favorite Nine Inch Nails shirtz, grabbed her coat from the coat rack. As she was turning the handle, you said, “Where are you going?” you asked. Carol turned to you. Outside she looked emotionless, but you could tell she was sad, by the way her eyebrows furrows.

“A walk,” she answered. You sighed, “Can I come?” you asked.

“Why?” Carol said, looking down. “Why?” you echoed in disbelief, “Because we need to talk!”

It was killing her to be distant from you, but it also killed her to stay with you, knowing you would not stay forever, that you were temporary.

Ignoring you, she twisted the handle.

“Please don’t walk out that door,” you begged, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Carol said, looking down. You got up the couch and took both her hands gently in yours, “Carol,” you started, “We promised not to keep secrets from each other, right?”

She nodded.

“Then tell me,” you urged.

“When you were on the operating table, I was so paranoid of losing you,” she explained, “I realized, that one day, you were going to age and die, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Then why are you so distant?”

“ I almost lost you. I couldn’t look at you without thinking of a world without you,” she explained, her breath shallow.

“If you love me,” you breathed, “You would treasure what’s left of my time,” you smiled ever so slightly, squeezing her hands.

Carol’s lips met yours, a soft kiss, similar to the first kiss you shared. She pulled away, “I do love you, (Y/n),” her voice cracked, “But I can’t bear the fact that one day, you won’t be here.”

“I’ll always be here,” you said, pointing to the center of her chest. Carol smiled, kissing your forehead,

“If you love me,” you said, “You would make life worth living, no matter how short my time is…”

-

Request and prompts in bio!

-

Taglist (open)

@yourwonderbelle @fandommmmmmsss @imperfectlyfinety @alexindahouse @cheekypotatoethongs @superwholockian5ever @imaginecrushes @imgoodthankshbu @hydraliciousbarnes @barnestevestark @bloom003-blog @piensa-bonito @holyhumanlampnerd @naritasamoosa @courtneychicken @thesergeantandstevie @saharzek @brynleeshea @terensebastianstan @phoebs4501 @confusedpretzel @dewy-biitch @angry-but-smol @coal000 @weirdness769 @madbuckstan @bird-with-boots @matcha-and-espresso @agent-valkyrie-romanoff @aveatquevale- @thefirst-galaxy @supremetoaster @makapaka11 @fairytailrocker @a-confused-blogger @tanglefire @dancewaterdance02 @disneymarina @imreadinggoaway @dracarysmcu @starshiness-blog @loki-is-low-key

[jewels2876]

Sweet Success - BONUS

A/N: I couldn’t leave it there! I have to give you this last BONUS chapter that I hope you all love - thanks again for the love & comments/reblogs & support!

Square filled: Bakery AU - @star-spangled-bingo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, kids Isabella and Rebecca and James, Loki mention

Word Count: 1176

Warnings:fluff, see tags for spoilers

Pics are not mine!

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Isabella stood over her cake and gently laid the fondant over the chocolate cake. She grabbed the smoother and glided it, laying the fondant flat removing any annoying hidden bubbles. She mentally patted herself on the back for remembering all the little tricks you taught her.  While you had been baking most of your life, it was only in the last few years since graduation that Isabella had turned her love of sweets and family and poured it into the business you had started. It allowed her to stay close to Rebecca before she headed off to college. Of course, business hadn’t always been easy, especially when you had to deal with the baker to the stars, the one and only Steve Rogers. This time it was a little different, Isabella thought with a chuckle.

The kitchen door slammed and she jumped, causing a deep gouge in the fondant. “Damn it!”

“Language!” James teased.

Isabella stuck her tongue out at the guy standing in front of her. While they had become best friends, he still acted like the cocky 17 year-old she remembered. “You sound like your dad,” Isabella sassed.

James held a hand to his chest in mock horror. “You wound me with your words, Izzy.”

A deep male voice sounded. “And you need to back to drama class with that horrible performance. Honestly, you really should consider coming to London and studying instead of that dreadful…”

“Loki, I’d stop there if I were you,” you joked loudly from the living room.

“Darling, please! If I’m going to be here to help you pull this off, I need at least one of us to tone down the dramatics. And I prefer that it not be me.”

You chuckled under your breath as you thought to yourself, just one more day. You did a little shimmy on the couch cushions as you stared at the tv, trying to distract yourself. One more day.

Two Days Earlier

The graduation anthem played; Rebecca stood in front of her class and gave the valedictorian speech. You mouthed the words along with her, even though she didn’t once glance your way.

“You’re gonna make me cry!” she had whined in the car.

“Bec, just… flash her a smile at the end,” Isabella suggested. “No one has to know it’s your mom supplying the rain at that point, and your class will think you’re emotional about them.”

“Isabella! When did you get so good at this?” you had quipped.

Steve grasped your left hand with his right and gave it a gentle squeeze. His attention was on your beautiful profile the entire time, graduation be damned. He loved watching your little micro-expressions of pride and sadness and love. He took a swipe at a tear that escaped. You had turned to him then, all teary-eyed, and kissed his cheek softly in a quiet ‘thank you.’

Before long the graduation was over and the kids threw their mortarboards in the air with a series of whoops and hollers. You had already made Rebecca promise to call any time, or get an Uber, for the graduation party after. She found you in the crowd, watery smile on her face, and flash you a thumbs up. You brushed away a tear with a chuckle.

“You ready Mom?” Isabella asked. Steve squeezed your hand one last time and blew you a kiss as he headed to his car. You blew him a kiss back. “Mom!”

You turned to Izzy with a huge grin. “What?! I can’t moon after…”

“Not legally,” she deadpanned. You both laughed at the movie reference as you got into the car.

Present

You took a deep breath before staring back at Steve. He looked so handsome in his navy suit, white shirt bright underneath, and pink rose pinned to his lapel. The suit made his eyes look that much bluer, the tears brightening his eyes. You felt your own tears threatening to escape; you pinched a small corner of the handkerchief Isabella had pressed into your hand and dabbed at the corner of your eyes.

“You look incredible,” Steve whispered.

You blushed as you answered him back with a loving grin. “You look handsome.”

A throat cleared and the small group gathered chuckled.

“Would you like to add anything?”

“Sorry,” you and Steve apologized in unison.

“Thankfully it’s over so I can say: you may now kiss the bride!”

Steve took you in his arms and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before dipping you. The crowd hollered in appreciation. Isabella and Rebecca pretended to cover their eyes in mock embarrassment while James playfully grabbed Steve’s arm to pull him back up.

The party after had been a roaring success. With the help of Loki and your daughters, your backyard had turned into a wonderland: tented tulle, twinkling lights, and candles lit on every table. The cake was a three tiered creation of Isabella’s; plenty of people raved about the navy, pink, and white tiers, flavored to perfection.

“It’s time for the best man’s speech,” Loki announced. James stood up, with Isabella and Rebecca flanking him. You and Steve looked at each other, wondering what the kids were up to.

James started. “When Isabella and I were in high school, we always thought our parents should get together.”

Your face flushed as Isabella continued. “As much as we love, and miss our dad, we wanted our mom to be happy again. Baking seemed to be one of the two things that ever did that.”

Steve squeezed your hand under the table as Rebecca went next. “No matter what the three of us tried to come up with, they always seemed to avoid each other. Not on purpose either. The stars just never aligned very well.”

“Until our bake sale,” James continued. “Isabella, Rebecca, and I knew this was our one chance and things had started out ok, but Tony Stark had other ideas.” People giggled as Tony threw his head back and laughed. You and Steve both grinned at Tony.

“We all know Mr. Stark, and his penchant for wanting to be big and bold, and all five of us delivered on that,” Isabella held up a poster board with an image of the cake. Everyone nodded, remembering both the cake and their original reaction at its unveiling.

“I delivered on that, everyone else just helped,” Rebecca teased. James and Isabella both groaned good-naturedly, as you took a playful swat at your daughter. “But in the end, it was that cake that started this family’s newest chapter and all three of us are very blessed to be part of this awesome new family.” Rebecca’s voice wavered. Isabella squeezed her shoulder and took the mic.

“Please raise a glass and toast our parents, who taught us that love is worth waiting for, fighting for, and is never-ending. To the bride and groom!”

Glasses raised and clinking sounded as you leaned over and kissed Steve. “We have some pretty awesome kids,” Steve whispered as you pulled away.

You chuckled and pressed your forehead to his. “Yeah we do.”

FIN

I would love any feedback/reblogs/love in general

Tag list:  @patzammit @lokiandbuckyaremine @thenormreedus @courtmr   @ticklikeabomb @xxloki81xx @woodworthti666 @greenarrowhead @lovely-dreamer19 @moonbeambucky @yafriendlyfangirl @lilyrosebae @after-avenging-hours @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @marvelc00kie35 @thejemersoninferno @lionheo04 @dewy-biitch @bitsandbobsandstuff @readitandweepfics @lokilvrr @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog @theimpossibleg1rl @princess-evans-addict @stuckyfox @4theluvofall @loricameback @moondancewrites @halcyonrogers @writing-for-a-chance @ruckystarnes @angryschnauzerwrites @221bshrlocked @suz-123 @senoritastucky @devilbat @jpat82 @caramell0w @spookyscaryskeletonsus @lilybellsworld @inlovewith3 @mrs-captain-evans @crazybutconfidentaf @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @sillyboyscomicsareforgirls @shield-agent78 @mackevanstanfan80 @jebra1999 @the-wayward-robot @time-travel-bouqet @theoneanna

[commander-rahrah]

Residency (an Open Heart Fic): PART ONE

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan 

Masterlist

Chapter Rating: T (Swearing)

Word Count: 3000+

Description: Jordynne’s last night in Oregon, leading up to her move to Boston, her apartment/Harry Potter room and the beginning of her first day at Edenbrook in Ethan’s point of view. 

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details. 

Author’s Note: I’ve never posted a Choices Fanfic before! I write fanfiction for other things (Mass Effect & Dragon Age if you are into that), but I just really really couldn’t get Ethan and my MC’s relationship out of my head. But I’m also super torn between him and Bryce. So I came up with a little scene in my head and just started writing. For my writing style, I do like to often put pieces of scenes from in-game/in-app to help the reader figure out where in the storyline we are.  Okayyyyyyy here we go! 

PART ONE:

Jordynne ducked into the black awning covering the entrance to the restaurant, shaking out her umbrella. It was pouring out — of course, it was. It was her last night in Portland — the rainy city had to leave a final impression on her.

Biting her lip, she opened up the door and headed inside. The hostess greeted her right away, and before she could tell her she was there for a reservation she heard a chorus of people screaming her name.

“Jordynne!!!”

“Ha, I guess that’s them.” She smiled through the embarrassing moment, her cheeks turning red.

She made her way to the private room at the back of the trendy restaurant. There was a big black booth, metal bar stools and string lights everywhere. And a giant homemade banner on the back wall reading, “GOOD LUCK DOC”.

A massive smile spread across her face as she read it, and looked down at all of her family and friends sitting at the tables.

“Awe baby! You’re here!!” Jordynne watched as her mother jumped out of her seat, and ran over to her with her arms spread wide.

“Hi, mom.” She said, letting her wrap her in a big hug.

Her dad came up next to them, grabbing Jordynne by the shoulder and pulling her into him side. “Hey, kiddo.” He had a sad smile on his face.

She could hear right through the gruffness in his voice, “Dad don’t! It’s too early to be sad.” She punched him softly on the arm.

He let out a warm chuckle, pretending to rub at his arm in pain. “Ha, okay okay.”

Her parents led her towards the rest of the group, who were all beaming at Jordynne.

Her pink mouth dropped open, “Oh my god, there are so many people here! Guys, thank you so much for coming!” She let out a little squeal as she hugged her aunts and cousins, college friends and neighbors. She couldn’t believe they all came out to see her off.

“Wait, where’s Jason?” She said, her smile faltering a little when she realized her older brother still wasn’t there.

“He’s on his way. His shift ran late.” Her best friend Carter spoke up, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into a hug.

“Ugh, please don’t remind me that my best friend knows more about my brother than I do…”

“Oh, he knows way more about him...” Her other best friend Kenzie interjected.

Jordynne pulled back as if she was going to slap her, “Kenzie, I swear to god!”

She flashed her a shit-eating grin. “Ugh, I’m going to miss this.”

She chewed on her lip again, “Yeah, me too.” She could feel tears starting to come to her eyes, so she started waving her hands in front of her face. “It’s too soon to start crying!! I just got here.” She forced a laugh.

“Someone’s making my little sister cry?! Who’s ass do I gotta kick now?” A booming voice came from the back. Jason strolled up, still wearing his police uniform. A giant grin spread on his face when he saw Jordynne. “There you are.” He picked her up into a giant teddy bear hug — her feet left the ground.

“Really dressed up for me, hey.” Her voice was strained from being squeezed so hard.

“Hey, I came straight from the station. Didn’t want to miss a second more.” He raised up his hands to her, in silent apology. Immediately after he put on a goofy smile.

Everyone finally settled down at the table together — drinks were ordered and family-style platters shared amongst each other. Stories of Jordynne were exchanged — her childish antics with Jason, when she backed her dad’s Corolla into the basketball hoop, the day she got accepted into medical school. Even though she had insisted there be no gifts, her friends and family still gave her presents. Her Aunties gave her bags of her favorite coffee grounds and a travel mug — for all of her early mornings at the hospital. A scrapbook from Kenzie and Carter, filled with pictures from high school and college. Her parents gave her a crisp, white lab coat with her name embroidered and Jason gave her a brand new stethoscope. By the end of the night, Jordynne’s eyes were filled to the brim with tears.

Everyone lingered as the night wrapped up, coming over to give her their well wishes and goodbyes. Her aunts wrapped her up in tight hugs, her cousins took selfies with her, her neighbors gave her a firm handshake and good luck wishes. Kenzie and Carter grabbed her from both sides in a tight group hug, before doing their trademark pinkie promise handshake. They were all laughing with tears in their eyes. Jason gave her a big bear hug again, chewing the inside of his lip as he saw her tears.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do Smartie.” He gave her a sad smile, holding onto her hand still.

“Whatever Worm.” She rolled her eyes at him but squeezed his hand back. 

“Now, go get Carter.”

He flashed her a row of white teeth, before finding Carter and intertwining their fingers together. He gave him a soft kiss, before starting to drag him out of the doors with the rest of the group.

Finally, Jordynne turned to see her parents standing in front of her — their faces red with tears. They rushed her into a hug, their heads pushing together. “Thank you so much.” She said, her voice muffled through her mom’s hair. “For everything. I don’t know how to ever repay you.”

Her dad’s laugh shook the group. “You don’t owe us anything Kiddo.”

Jordynne looked at her mom’s face, her green eyes shining. “You can go out there, and be the best damn Doctor you can be.”

She nodded vigorously at them, “Okay.” She said, letting out a breathy laugh.

_______________________________________________________________________

Staring out through the small oval window, Jordynne absent-mindedly ran her fingers on the edges of the textbook in front of her. She had brought it with her on the plane, intending to catch up on her studying. But as soon as she sat down in her seat, her mind started vibrating and stomach fluttering nervously. She was doing, she was actually doing it — moving across the country to complete her residency at Edenbrook.  

She hadn’t packed that much — clothes, toiletries, some photos, and books. Her suitcase and carry on were enough. Jordynne had wanted Boston to be different, and not having her college dorm room’s decor with her was a part of that. Boxing up the rest of her stuff and putting it in storage in her parent’s basement was cathartic. Either way, the small room she had found for rent near the hospital did not have the space available for a lot of decor.

Letting out a sigh, she tried to refocus on the textbook in front of her. Only four more hours until she landed in Boston. Only four more hours until her new life would actually begin.

_______________________________________________

Anxiously staring into the mirror, Jordynne fixed her blonde ponytail for the fourth time that morning. She stared into the small cracked mirror in the house’s shared bathroom, before straightening up. Licking her pink lips, she studied herself. Her long wavy blonde hair was pulled up into a sleek high ponytail, her tan skin dewy from a bit of foundation and highlighter. Her green eyes seemed a bit brighter with her new contacts. Smoothing down her blue scrubs, she attempted a smile in the mirror but was interrupted by a loud knocking. “Hey, are you done yet?!” A hoarse voice shouted at her through the door.

“Sorry!” Jordynne grabbed onto her toiletry bag and turned the knob to the door. “All done!” As she went to wave one of the roommates through, they shoved into her and closed the door. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a calming breath before heading back downstairs to her room.

It wasn’t really a bedroom. Maybe a cold storage room. It was the space underneath the stairs leading into the frigid basement — there was no ceiling in the room, and the floor was concrete. Definitely no windows. But it was so cheap and close to the hospital, Jordynne wouldn’t dare complain. The delivery guy from the furniture store raised an eyebrow when he brought in her mattress and bed frame for her, but she was going to make the best of it.

Swapping out the toiletries in her hand for her grey messenger bag, Jordynne slung it over her shoulder and bounded back up the stairs. Fumbling with the cord of her headphones, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her playlist — trying to find the perfect song to walk to.

She had already practiced walking to work a few times— confirming what the best time to leave was, any short cuts or good coffees places to stop by. She wasn’t usually that anal — she was just nervous. Giving up on finding a song, she pressed shuffle and flipped over to her messages. She had unread texts from her family and friends, sending “I love you” and “good luck” messages. Jordynne smiled as she read them, replying back quickly before putting her head back up.

She could see Edenbrook from here — the large glass windows shining in the morning sun. Jordynne felt her stomach flip, as she crossed the street and stood outside of its main entrance. Wrapping her headphones back up, she turned her phone to “do not disturb” and tucked them into her bag. Gripping onto the strap crossing over her chest, she took a deep breath before marching into the building.

_______________________________________________

Tipping the final drops of his coffee into his mouth, Ethan Ramsey placed his travel mug on his desk with a sigh. He still had another thirty minutes until the orientation started. Interns.

He liked it in his office. He spent more time in the 200 square foot room then he did in his two bedroom apartment. It was simple — his desk was nothing fancy, some comfortable chairs for patients or residents to sit in during meetings. A deep leather sofa sat in the corner — his bed on most nights.

Checking his pager, Ethan turned off the lights in his office before locking the door and heading down the hall. A few nurses giggled as he walked by, and he gritted his teeth as he heard them.

He enjoyed walking the hospital, weaving past the entrance to observe waiting patients. He liked to challenge himself, try and diagnose patients without speaking to them first. Poking his head around the corner, he took stock of the dozen people sitting patiently in their chairs.

Nurse Roberts waved to him from the front desk — one of the few people he could tolerate. She had been sitting there on his first day, and he didn’t expect she would be going anywhere else anytime soon. A couple other nurses stood near a supply closet, whispering to each other quietly.

But his blue eyes flickered over to a pair of scrubs — a blonde woman he had never seen before was waltzing through the waiting room, her mouth open as she gazed around her. An intern? He thought to himself, curiously watching her.

She was pretty, he wouldn’t deny that. Her tan skin glowed compared to her scrubs, and she had her hair pulled up into a long, wavy ponytail. She reminded him of someone from the cover of one of the magazines in the waiting room — high cheekbones, full pink lips, long lashes. He crinkled his mouth in surprise. It wasn’t that doctors weren’t allowed to be attractive, it’s was just the fact that Ethan found himself thinking about one was.  

An audible gasp caused his ears to perk up. Blinking himself back to reality, his eyes darted around the waiting room, watching as a woman slumped in her seat before hitting the tiled floor.

Instincts kicking in, Ramsey started rushing over to the woman opening his mouth to speak. Two voices in union echoed in the room,  “Everybody, step back! I’m a doctor!”

Ignoring the other voice, he dropped down to his knees next to the patient. Taking two trained fingers, he placed them on her neck searching for a pulse. He barely felt it on his fingertips.

“Pulse is weak. She’s unresponsive.” He muttered to himself, before looking around for a staff member. Spotting the blonde in the scrubs, he nodded towards her — beckoning her over. “You. Rookie. Get in here.”

He didn’t wait to see if she was coming, instead he tucked his arms underneath the woman and lifted her up with ease. A nurse appeared with a stretcher, and he placed her on it gently. The blonde woman was steadying it for him, her eyes focused.

Noticing the nurse who suddenly appeared at his side, the doctor spoke to him, “Mahiri, what was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?”

“No, she’d just walked in.” The nurse said, his eyes wide as he looked down at the patient.

Ramsey let out an agitated breath. “If we don’t figure out what’s wrong with her fast, she’s gonna die on this table.” Licking his lips, he started observing the patient as he instructed the intern. “Rookie, check her B.P.”

The nurse handed a blood pressure cuff to her, who quickly wrapped it around the woman’s arm, pumping the bulb and peering at the numbers. “It’s plummeting. She’s hypotensive. We’ve gotta get fluids in her.”

Another nurse wheeled over an IV rack, quickly hooking her in with ease. As he moved her arm, Ramsey noticed a large bruise forming on her elbow. The woman stirred at the sensation, and he watched as the blonde grabbed onto her hand instinctually. The patient weakly gripped the intern’s hand, her fingertips slowly turning blue.

Ethan waited — seeing if she would notice.

He watched as her green eyes widened. “Doctor, look at this bruise. It wasn’t here a moment ago.”

Observant. Good. He thought to himself, test number two now. “You’re sure?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Confident. He liked that. “That’s the elbow she landed on when she fell. A bruise forming that fast would suggest that this woman is a hemophiliac. Good catch.” He nodded at her approvingly, “Also, see her fingertips? Low oxygen saturation in her blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry.” He wanted to show her, to teach her more. But the last thing he needed was a waiting room full of people to watch a woman die at 7:00 in the morning.

Handing her the stethoscope from around his neck, he watched as she slipped it in her ears before placing the resonator onto the woman’s side. “I can’t hear anything on the left side! And her right lung is struggling! Doctor, she’s going to suffocate!”

He noticed the inflection in her voice — she was starting panic now. Remaining calm, his eyes narrowed in on the patient, his pupils flickering as he analyzed her. “Nurse, we’ve got a code blue.”

The nurse shifted quickly, grabbing a bag-mask from his cart and passing it to him.

“What do we do, Doctor? What’s happening to her?” The blonde woman asked as she watched, her hands awkwardly in front of her — waiting to be told what to do.

He gently started pumping air into the woman’s lungs, speaking to the intern as he did so. “Consider all the clues. It’s all there. You know this, Rookie.”

“It’s… It’s…” He watched her close her eyes, her eyelids flickering as she thought.

Come on, get there faster. Don’t make me do it. Ramsey thought to himself.

“It’s a hemothorax!” She blurted out.

A small smile flickered on Ethan’s face as she solved it. “Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity…”

She interrupted him, “Blocking her lungs from expanding! That’s why she can’t breathe!” She hesitated, “But we can’t repair the blood vessel here…”

“We’ll have to do an emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!” He called out.

Again, the nurse was immediately at his side. He offered the scalpel and chest tube to Ramsey, but he waved him off — getting him to offer it to the intern. Wrapping her fingers around the scalpel, she gulped as Ethan lifted up the patient’s shirt to expose her rib cage. He attempted to multitask but gestured to the nurse to take over pumping air into the patient with the mask bag.

“Don’t we need a local anesthetic…” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re outta time! Do it now, or this woman’s life is on you!” He said sternly.

The scalpel inching closer, he listened as she started whispering to herself. “Incision at the fifth intercostal space… anterior… to the mid-axillary line…”.

She was smart. Methodical. Ethan had to give her that.

Her hand started to tremble just before contact with the skin, and Ramsey felt himself reach out to her instinctually. He steadied her hand with his, a jolt of electricity waving over him at their touch.

His turned his voice gentle, his blue eyes meeting hers. “Hey… You can do this.”

A new found resolve settled over her, and her hand almost instantly stopped shaking.

“There you go. Nice and easy.” He nodded approvingly as she made the incision.

Their hands remained together as they gently pushed the breathing tube through the incision — a spurt of blood hitting the intern’s scrubs as the fluid began to drain out of the woman’s chest. A ragged breath gasped from her, as she started to breathe again.

The blonde’s mouth opened in shock, “We… we did it!”

Gesturing over to the nurses on standby, Ethan spoke to them. “She’s stable. Get her into surgery… She’s gonna make it.”

A burst of applause from the onlookers in the waiting room, made him snap back to reality. He turned to watch the intern, who was carefully wiping her forehead being careful not to get any more blood on her. Her eyes seemed brighter after all of that — he assumed adrenaline was pumping through her.

She caught him staring, and she broke out into a smile revealing a line of perfectly white teeth. “Doctor… that was… absolutely amazing!”

Remembering where he was, he dropped the emotion from his face. “You’re right. It’s pretty amazing you didn’t get her killed.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, her pink mouth hanging open, “Wait, what?”

Ethan kept his voice monotone, “Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best…”

“Amateur? Maybe you can give me private lessons then.” Jordynne retorted, raising an eyebrow.

He couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face, “Ha! I just might, Doctor…” He reached across, grabbing the ID card off hanging off of her pocket. “Holland. But I sincerely doubt you could afford my salary.” He gave her a devilish smirk, before tossing back the plastic card. He turned on his heel, stalking off without a background glance.

Holland. So that’s the Rookie he had handpicked. He had to admit she was as good as her application — maybe better. He had to reprimand her — she shouldn’t get too confident, too cocky — it would ruin her career before it even started. But she was good — quick, steady hands, sharp mind. And those eyes — but he cut his thoughts off as they approached her appearance. He was not going down that road.

Ramsey used his back to open the door into a nearby OR, finding a sink to wash his hands in. He had remained spotless throughout the emergency — it took years of practice, but it was now his talent to keep his white coat pristine throughout the day. He thought to the Rookie’s blood covered scrubs and let out a chuckle.  He’d have to keep an eye on that one — she was gonna be special.

Part Two

[galli-writes]

Anything at All    

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

(Click here to listen to the podfic!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Sorry it took me so long to get this next chapter out! I've been very busy lately. Hopefully things should be getting a little more consistent soon.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2: The First Fight ( words: 7,525 )

Lately, Beast Boy had decided that his least favorite part of being called out on a mission was changing into uniform. Calling it a uniform and not a costume made it only slightly less embarrassing.

He understood the point of it—at least from Robin’s perspective. But the rest of them didn’t have much of an alternate identity anyway, so the costume always seemed a little redundant. Like Raven had pointed out when they first met, trying to ‘conceal your civilian identity’ seemed a little pointless when you were green. But they’d still kept it up all these years regardless. Robin’s leniency toward costume redesigns was the one saving grace.

Beast Boy quickly grabbed a pair of slick black athletic pants off the floor, along with a form fitting long sleeve shirt. It was still raining outside and, heading into October, that meant it was probably pretty cold out there too. Both pieces were relatively plain, save for a few purple accents here and there and several obnoxious zippers. He strapped on his extra-grip running shoes as tightly as he could without cutting off his circulation. He’d learned from experience that this was a necessary evil.

Before running out the door, he made sure to grab one last thing. A red and white sports jacket that he’d been recently trying to incorporate into his look. Raven always complained that he needed to just pick one color scheme and stick with it—the purple and black or the red white—but Beast Boy refused. She told him the jacket was stupid, and actually seemed actively annoyed by the clashing colors. So naturally he wore it every opportunity he got.

He glanced at the clock on his desk, muttering a curse under his breath. He darted out of his room, nearly tripping around the corner as he ran. It had only been a minute or two, but sometimes that wasn’t fast enough for Robin. The guy seemed to live in his uniform. Beast Boy suspected he always had on it underneath whatever he was wearing--just like in the movies.

By the time he got to the garage, only Robin and Cyborg were still there—Robin about to hop on his bike, Cyborg tinkering with his car again.

“There you are,” Robin said, in the middle of putting on his helmet.

“Sorry,” Beast Boy panted.

“Don’t apologize,” Robin said flatly. “Apologies don’t fix mistakes. Actions do. Just try and get here sooner next time.”

“Right,” Beast Boy said. The words weren’t unfair or mean spirited, but they did leave him with a small pit in his stomach. Raven could teleport anywhere in an instant. Cyborg didn’t even have to change. And any time Starfire was ever late or unprepared for a battle, Robin barely seemed to noticed. Maybe that was one of the perks of dating your team leader.

“I’ve already sent Star and Raven out to do some recon. You should try and catch up to them,” Robin said, revving the engine.

Cyborg had stood up from behind the car, and was now typing away at a keypad on his arm. “Just sent their location to your transmitter. You shouldn’t be too far behind them.”

“On it,” Beast Boy nodded.

Without looking back he turned on his heels and started running as fast as he could—at least in his human form. Then, in one quick movement, the ground disappeared from under his feet, replaced with the damp, whirling air of a rainy day.

He hadn’t been lying earlier. With a hawk’s eye view he really could see every detail below him—everything from the man shushing his child at the bus stop to the woman handing out religious pamphlets on the corner of the street. If the clouds hadn’t been blocking it, he figured he probably would have had a pretty good view of the sunset. Instead, the sky was dark and gray. The city easily made up for it with every streetlight, headlight, and illuminated office building that cut through the rain.

The bank was just around the corner--the sirens and flashing lights confirmed it.

Beast Boy glided down to the roof of a shorter building just across the street from all the action. He perched on the back of a patio chair--one among many on the rooftop. The air smelled like coffee and freshly baked bread, even through the rain. And based on the number of sparrows that scattered when he landed, he figured the roof had to belong to a restaurant or coffee shop. The thought alone was enough to make his stomach rumble again. Turns out two handfuls of Fritos couldn’t really count as a meal.

Beast Boy whipped his transmitter out of his pocket and clicked the button on the side.

“I’m here,” he said, looking around. “Not sure exactly where everyone else is.”

“Hold on a sec,” Cyborg’s voice crackled through his ear. “They just left. Heading west in pursuit. Towards the outskirts of town.” The sound of frantic typing echoed through the speaker. “Their signal’s dying though. Fast. I think I’m gonna lose ‘em any second.”

Beast Boy smiled, even though no one could see. “Piece a cake.”

He slid the transmitter back into his pocket and leapt off the building once more. He flew directly over the sea of blaring lights and sirens, bypassing them entirely. Two blocks ahead, he dove into an alley and landed on all fours. Fortunately, the GPS he had up his sleeve was powered by smell, not cellular signal. And in this kind of weather, a green wolf prowling through the shadows could easily be mistaken for a mangy stray dog.

The rain admittedly made things more difficult. Every trace of a scent he found was vague and foggy. But he was confident he’d find the trail eventually--the scent he was looking for was hard to miss.

After trotting through the shadows for a good ten minutes, he finally caught what he was looking for. The aroma itself, sweet and slightly smoky, was faint at first. But it was so distinctly different from every other smell—exhaust fumes, humidity, and now wet dog--that just one whiff was enough to send him into a small sneezing fit.

The buildings around him had begun to change pretty drastically as well. Instead of skyscrapers, narrow apartment buildings made up the majority of the street face. He passed an old-fashioned gas station with only three pumps. Several men were standing outside the convenience store connected to it, laughing and smoking cigarettes. Another block down he passed a 24 hour pizza place that was totally empty. Then another convenience store with a busted neon sign. The street lights changed for only a few passing cars. He could count the number of people he saw on four paws--one of them a stray cat that had hissed at him violently as he passed.

Beast Boy knew he was still very much in the city--but he didn’t know where. Somehow even with the lights and the people and the apartments, it felt like he was trekking through a ghost town. A place that the rest of the city had forgotten about altogether. He couldn’t explain why exactly, but his breath suddenly felt more labored and tired. Like each time he exhaled it was more of a sigh. A shadow of sadness he couldn’t trace back to any one thing in particular.

When the ground shifted from asphalt to grass, he breathed a sigh of relief. The dewy forest floor felt so much more natural when he was in this form. Needless to say, the relief was not just physical. As he put more and more distance between himself and the streets behind, the sentiment began to fade. And it disappeared completely the moment he spotted some flaming red hair poking through the trees.

He bounded forward and leapt into the air, sneezing mid-transformation. To top it all off, he quickly realized that the ground beneath him wasn’t so much ground anymore as it was a pile of mud. A pile of mud he promptly slid right into.

“Beast Boy!” Starfire gasped.

“’Sup ladies,” he said with a wink, meeting Raven’s eye roll from the ground.

“How were you able to locate us?” Starfire asked, helping him up. “We do not have any of the signal.”

Beast Boy stood, trying (and failing) to wipe the mud off his jacket. “Oh, that was easy,” he said, flicking some off his shoulder. “Raven stinks .”

Raven glared at him, her eyes two menacing slits under a cloak of shadow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You always smells like that weird store downtown,” he continued. “With the Buddha statues and weed socks.”

He should’ve seen her next move coming--but of course he hadn’t.

Suddenly Beast Boy’s footing gave and he found himself on the ground again-- magically --like he’d never gotten up in the first place. Raven was looking over him.

“It’s called incense . And I’ve never set a foot in that disgusting store in my life.”

Beast Boy got to his feet again. This time unassisted. “Well it stinks,” he said dramatically wrinkling his nose. “Why can’t you just burn sugar cookie candles like a normal person?”

Raven frowned. “Well at least I don’t smell like a soggy doggy daycare,” she replied.

Beast Boy looked down at his drenched, and now very muddy, clothing. No grade of athletic fabric would have been enough to save him from the laundry he’d be doing after a fall like that.

“So you have no news from Robin?” Starfire quickly interjected, looking around a little more urgently than either of them.

“I think he was about to head this way—maybe he’s asking some questions back at the bank?” Beast Boy shrugged. He instinctively reached for his transmitter. “Lemme check if I have any bars.”

Flipping the device open in his palm, he squinted at the top left corner. Miraculously, he had a flickering signal--if only for a second. The number in the top right hit 2%...then 1%...and then the device shut off entirely. He snapped it shut.

“Uh--nope, nothing. No bars,” he said, biting his lip.

“Oh, glorbnaf,” Starfire said under her breath.

Beast Boy looked around them, but could only make out the shadowy outlines of the towering trees. Out here, the only light they had to guide them was the glow from Starfire’s eyes.

“Sooooo...”

“We just lost them,” Raven said flatly.

Beast Boy grit his teeth. ““...What’re we gonna tell Robin?”

“Exactly what I just told you. Unless you have a better idea.”

Beast Boy looked around the clearing they were all stopped in. And when he really started to absorb his surroundings, the feeling from the streets returned again. He couldn’t place what it was, but something didn’t feel right. It was something about the ground. Now that he wasn’t running across it or slipping in a mud puddle, he could feel something. Hear something deep below.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, furrowing his brow. Instantly, the green elephant from earlier reappeared in the clearing, landing with a crash. Starfire and Raven’s eyes both widened in confusion, but they remained silent as Beast Boy slowly walked around the clearing. With every step he took, he could feel it more clearly--a sort of vibration, a humming reverberating up through the earth. He stopped directly in the center of the clearing and transformed back.

“I think...they’re still here,” he said slowly. “They’re just...underground.”

“Underground?” Starfire said.

Raven frowned.“So you turned into an elephant and stomped on their ceiling. Because that’s not conspicuous at all.”

“Eh heh hem,” Beast Boy said as he spun around. “Elephants can hear through their feet, Raven .”

“You know what else can hear underground?” she replied. “Tiny mice and mole rats that don’t alert the enemy that we’re standing right on top of them .”

Beast Boy just threw out a hand dismissively. “Yeah, right. Like they really heard that.” He shook his head. “I heard some kind of weird humming noise. They’re probably blasting music while they count their money.”

“Um...friends,” Starfire’s voice cut in, once again much more urgently.

Beast Boy and Raven turned simultaneously, eyes following Starfire’s gaze as she pointed to several metal objects rising out of the ground.

Without missing a beat, Raven raised her hands, eyes aglow. A translucent purple dome instantly appeared around them--and not a second too soon.

Lasers bounced viciously off the barrier, coming from every direction. Even though the dome easily deflected the shots, the action began to produce a troubling smokescreen on all sides, completely blocking their visibility.

“You were saying?” Raven sneered, brow furrowed in concentration.

Starfire began to throw shots out in every direction. Each time she was lucky enough to hit something, a small burst of light leaked through the smoke, which was only now beginning to clear. Just enough for Beast Boy to see the lights coming toward them.

“Uh...guys,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “We’ve got company.”

Starfire spun around, now following his line of sight. She began firing once more, this time with slightly more precision.

“They’re gonna be right on top of us,” Raven said, gritting her teeth. “I have to drop the screen. I think it’s--”

But Beast Boy didn’t wait for her to finish the thought. He hadn’t been able to do much on the mission so far. But now, with so many targets in front of him, he could feel the blood thumping in his ears, more loudly than the voice of his friend.

In the next moment, he felt his claws dig into the wet earth, and then into sharp metal and sparking wires as he pounced and ripped off one of the approaching figure’s arms. Having the jaws of a bengal tiger made the the task as simple as snapping a toothpick. Beast Boy pounded forward, barely dodging several strikes from what appeared to be some sort of metal staff. When he was within a foot of the wielder, he leapt directly at them, aiming for the center of the staff they now held up in defense.

But instead of reveling in the satisfaction of watching the staff broken in half at his feet, Beast Boy suddenly found that he was the one of the ground again. His right leg coursed with a numbing electric pain, and every nerve in his body felt distant--misplaced.

With a nearly invisible swipe, the staff and its wielder had spun out of his reach, only to knock him down with an incredibly basic low sweep. On his back, reeling with pain, he looked up at the shadowy figure hovering over him now. Blue and white sparks flew off the cold metal of the staff, which they raised above them, ready to deliver the final blow. Beast Boy closed his eyes tight. It wouldn’t actually be the final blow of course. But it definitely wasn’t going to be pretty either.

Just as he was about to accept that being bedridden for a week wouldn’t be all bad, a blaring noise passed over him, followed by an inhuman scream. He opened his eyes, squinting just enough to see Raven hovering off to his left.

“You can thank me later,” she said, barely glancing at him before firing another bolt of shadow into the fray. “On your right.”

Beast Boy looked up again and, with his good leg, used the same move that had bested him to take out the oncoming attacker. In one swift swipe, the figure was on the ground, falling face first into the mud. With a subtle smirk, Beast Boy quickly transformed again--this time into an alligator--and chomped down on the attacker’s leg.

The figure fell limp, but just as it did, Beast Boy felt the pain coursing through his right leg again--this time radiating all the way up into what would have been his thigh. He slipped back into human form, pulling the knee tight up against his chest. No matter which way he turned it, the pain didn’t disappear.

It was during this moment that he realized just how quiet the scene had become. When he looked back up at the battlefield before him he only saw a handful of enemies left standing--and they were clearly outmatched. In the entire time it had taken him to take down two goons, his friends had managed to wipe out the other thirty or so.

He rested his forehead on his knee and exhaled a long sigh. Yeah. Typical.

“I’ve found something!” Starfire called in the distance.

He lifted his head to see her crouched over one of the bodies on the ground. After a moment she stood back up, brandishing a small object in her hand. Meeting Beast Boy’s eyes, she flew over to him.

“Beast Boy--are you the hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Just...tired.” Though even as he said it, he could feel the muscles in his leg throbbing in pain.

Raven appeared silently behind Starfire, who looked down at the object again. She sighed. “It is the same symbol as that from the other attacks.”

There was a pause as Beast Boy studied her expression, which was relieved and distraught at the same time. And then he noticed Raven, who was staring straight at him, squinting.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” he said, eyebrow raised.

“I’m not looking at you ,” Raven said, rolling her eyes.

“What?”

“Scoot over,” she said, waving her hand.

Even though it hurt to do so, he did, moving a foot away from the tree trunk he’d propped himself up against.

Raven crouched down next to him and began digging through the soggy leaves. The rain was starting to let up, but in the aftermath of the storm everything was still a muddy mess. After a moment, her efforts revealed an incredibly dim, blinking red light buried under the roots of the large oak tree.

Beast Boy furrowed his brow in confusion “How’d you--?”

“Your ass was blinking,” she said, pressing the dim light, which was apparently also a button. A small translucent panel popped out of the bark of the tree just above it.

“Why were you staring at my ass?” Beast Boy said, unable to resist flashing a snarky smile at her as he said it

Starfire giggled, a hand at her mouth trying to contain herself.

Raven shot her a look and she immediately dropped it. She looked back at the panel that had appeared on the tree. “It looks like a fingerprint scanner,” she said, eyes narrowed.

Without a word, Raven looked back out over the battlefield. She extended a hand out in the direction of one of the fallen androids. In an instant, a dismembered arm flew into her hand. She removed the dirty leather glove from the end of it, revealing a small bit of ultra-realistic latex skin that had managed to stay attached to the hand. Sure enough, the grotesque realism included fingerprints.

She pushed each finger up against the scanner, one by one. When she got to the ring finger, the panel finally blinked green and, after a moment, receded back into the trunk.

For a moment, nothing happened. And in that short span of time, Beast Boy managed to climb to his feet, making a conscious effort to look as uninjured as possible. Of course, when the ground began to shake and he fell flat on his ass again, he was sure he wasn’t convincing anyone.

To their right, a particular pile of leaves rustled a little more than the rest. With a loud click, a perfect circle began to cut itself out in the forest floor. There was just enough moonlight now to illuminate a narrow metal ladder leading down the edge of it.

“Well that was...easy,” Raven said, her tone tinged with even more distrust than usual.

“Who cares?” Beast Boy said, finally making it to his feet for the second time. “Time to kick some secret society android ass motherfu--!” He took one triumphant step forward, and, for the fourth time that night, found himself covered in mud on the forest floor.

Raven looked down at him from where she was standing, specifically eyeing his right leg, which he’d instinctively reached out for after the fall.

“You’re not coming,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“ What ?”

“Stay here and wait for Robin. Starfire and I will take care of it,” she said, ready to turn around and be on her way.

“But I just got here!” Beast Boy whined. “And I—“ He began to complain, but winced as the numbing pain coursed through his leg again.

Raven shot him a look over her shoulder. A look that told him that arguing with her wouldn’t be worth the trouble.

“Alright, alright,” Beast Boy grumbled. “Staying here.” He threw his arms up in the air in surrender and plopped down on the damp forest floor, leaning back up against the tree.

Starfire gave him a sympathetic smile, but drifted away with Raven as soon as she started to make her way down the passage. And in a moment, he was completely alone again.

“You know,” he yelled at the nothingness, “there’s lots of dangerous animals that don’t even have legs!”

The ironic chirp of crickets in the distance was the only reply he got.

Beast Boy looked around once more at the bodies littering the ground. He felt something akin to frustration bubble up in him. Seeing them all lying so still, he could actually get an idea of how many enemies they’d been up against. And how he was only responsible for taking down two of them. He couldn’t just quit here. If he did, it would be like he’d never even showed up to begin with. Like he’d barely contributed to the match. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Beast Boy eyed the opening in the ground that his two friends had just disappeared into. Then he shot one last glance at the army of androids littering the ground like old rag dolls.

“Raven wants me to play babysitter? Yeah, as if.”

With support from the tree trunk behind him, he pulled himself to his feet one last time. He could manage to stand on his own--and even walk a little if he was careful. But he was kidding himself. As much as he hated to admit it, Raven had been right about the severity of his injury.

He thought for a moment about what he could transform into. Something that wouldn’t require him to use his legs—at least not for movement. Something small and inconspicuous—something not even Raven would notice. Something that wouldn’t have any trouble getting down that tunnel.

One idea quickly came to mind. In a flash, he went from standing still to beating his miniature wings so fast he could barely see them. He felt invisible--which was exactly what he wanted. He hovered over the pit. And as for his usual dilemma, he didn’t have a thing to worry about. After all, humming birds were already green.

The passage underground was dark, damp, and at least three times as cold as the wind chill on the surface.  As Beast Boy fluttered downward, a slight breeze pushed back against him, which admittedly made him start to second guess the whole humming bird thing.

Eventually however, the breeze started to level off, and Beast Boy could make out a faint yellow glow coming into focus beneath him. When he finally reached the source of the light, the breeze dispersed altogether as the tunnel opened into a wide room.

It was roughly what he’d expected. If you’ve see one underground hideout you’ve seen ‘em all.

Old subway tiles lined the wall. Though they’d probably been white at one point, now they were as brown as the rough dirt floor. The room itself was empty, save for a stream of water running along one edge of it. The water originated from somewhere beyond a grate in the eastern wall. It simply passed through, and exited out another grate at the opposite end. In the far left corner, another dim yellow light illuminated the only other point of entry built into the room. The whole scene looked a bit like the indie horror games Beast Boy never had the guts the finish.

He flew across the room toward the light, which revealed a long empty hallway.

Unmarked doors lined each side of the dirty tile, walls. The narrow space reeked of antiseptic and decaying wood. He quickly made his way down the hall, which fortunately had few twists and turns. Smaller hallways occasionally branched off of the main one, but they only led to clusters of doors. Doors that were all either locked or held nothing but some unremarkable chairs and tables inside them.

Whoever had designed this place had clearly been playing too many video games.

As he went deeper however, the atmosphere began to change slightly. The tiles lining the hallway gradually looked whiter, cleaner, newer --as if the hall had only recently been constructed. Down here, instead of just blank doors and empty rooms, signs began to pop up next to the door handles. They ranged in description from things like ‘JANITOR’ and ‘STORAGE’’ to things like ‘NEUROEPIGENETICS’ and ‘CRYOCONSERVATION’. Beast Boy was just beginning to wonder what the last two could possibly mean when he heard the faintest echoes of voices bouncing around an upcoming corner. And at least two of them were instantly recognizable.

He darted forward as quickly and as silently as his wings would carry him. It wasn’t long before the familiar sounds of Starfire’s energy bolts and Raven’s chanting joined the mix. When he turned a corner at the end of the hallway, the scene came into full view before him.  

The room, or rather warehouse, was incredibly large, the decor just as plain and white as the route to get there. But unlike the other rooms he’d seen on his way over, this one wasn’t empty. Stacks upon stacks of large wooden crates and cardboard boxes lined the walls and sat in groups all over the floor. The ceiling reached incredible heights--it had to be at least fifty feet tall—and there were several stacks of crates that reached all the way to the top. It resembled the backlot of a Home Depot, that is, if the mulch and flowers had been replaced with suspicious, unmarked boxes.

The boxes aside, the room was wide open, so it wasn’t hard to get a good look at the fight going on. Beast Boy swallowed hard.

On the floor, there were already several people down. They looked just like the androids--black jumpsuits and masks that showed only their eyes. But none of them were sparking or twitching like broken machinery. Instead, they were writhing on the floor in pain--still alive of course. But it was the alive part that changed things.

In the ceiling corner diagonal to him, Beast Boy watched as Raven raised her hands, gritting her teeth as she heaved a forklift into the air and shot it toward a group of people, their weapons aimed directly at her. There was a loud crash, followed by a stream of red bullets flying from the cloudy aftermath of the wreckage. Raven dodged each one of them with an expert precision.

On the other side of the room, Starfire brutally yelled at one of goons in Tamaranian. She whipped around, blasting another small group of them with a beam of green light from her left hand. With her right, she cut down one of the ceiling beams, which subsequently crashed down on top of another few.

But despite their efforts, there were just too many of them to handle all at once. And the extras didn’t seem particularly interested in fighting back. They were trying to run away--and they were trying to take something with them.

In the corner the farthest away from the rest of the fighting, Beast Boy watched about ten or fifteen individuals scramble to transfer a particular set of crates into a white van. The engine was already running, the driver ready to take off at any moment.

Raven and Starfire were more than qualified to handle anything their opponents were dishing out. But they were outnumbered--and now they were stuck holding off the distraction.

Beast Boy felt his blood pumping again. This was his chance. Er...second chance. To not just be the distraction or the plan B, but to take center stage. And once again, it sparked something in him that he didn’t quite know how to control.

So he didn’t try to control it.

Any worry he had about Raven catching him immediately vanished. He didn’t care about being inconspicuous. He wanted to be seen. And a two ton rhinoceros was definitely more visible than a humming bird.

He hit the ground running, savoring the crack of the tile beneath his legs as he ran. The adrenaline coursing through his veins rendered all of the pain it caused him irrelevant. The ground shook, and instantly he could feel that all eyes were on him, even though he was too focused on the target in front of him to see them. He charged, head lowered, horn pointed directly at the group behind the truck, ready to—

“BEAST BOY!”

He instantly skidded to a stop. But he’d put the brakes on a second too late.

The criminals ducked out of the way, spared by his split second of hesitation. The driver revved the engine, Raven’s furious words still echoing off the walls.

They were the last thing he heard before he smashed head first into the wall.

When he opened his eyes, he felt his knees going weak underneath him. The only thing holding him upright was his horn, which was firmly pinned through the tile, behind the plaster of the wall. Pain shot through his leg again, and with a yank to free himself, he fell over, his thick skin scraping against the cold shards of broken tile that littered the floor.

Reverting back to his human form was less a choice than it was an obligation. Again, Beast Boy pulled himself up against the wall for support. He looked down at his bloodied palms, felt the taste of blood on his lips. And those were just the new additions to the injuries he’d already sustained.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, rubbing a hand across his temple. More blood.

He closed his eyes tight. But the room was bright enough that, even so, he noticed the instant a large shadow fell over him. He opened his eyes, squinting against the lights in the distance. Looming over him was the entire group of individuals he had pinned as easy targets only a moment before.

“Uh...hey there,” he said, with a faltering half smile. “Nice outfits. They new?”

Suddenly, one of the figures stepped forward out of the group. In their hand they held a long metal staff. They gave it a shake and blue sparks began to fire off the end of it.

“Oh. Right,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “That.”

This time he didn’t try and fight it.

Surprisingly, knowing what was coming actually just made things worse. This time he wasn’t caught off guard. And with no distractions, every single brain cell was free to experience the electrifying punch that landed smack in the middle of his chest.

“AHHHHH!!” he yelled so loudly he could barely hear himself think. His eyes shut tight again, this time automatically, and he could feel his entire body curling in on itself. The only control he had left was his ability to scream, and even that felt alien. Like it wasn’t really his voice he was hearing.

He tried to open his eyes, but the entire world was fading into a black static screen. The static itself became more and more muted, like even the TV was starting to lose power. His stomach wretched, and his breathing quickened. But no matter how many breaths he took it was never enough.

Not far off in the distance he heard a loud, muffled growl, followed by the crashing of crates in every direction surrounding him.

The roar of a truck engine and skidding tires rang in his ears, then grew more and more distant.

“Raven!” A second voice yelled, a little farther off. “They are escap—“

Another growl. A voice spitting words in a language Beast Boy didn’t understand. More explosions. The ping of stray bullets reflecting off the walls.

Beast Boy dared to try and open his eyes one more time. Everything was still hazy, but he could make out the shapes and colors before him. He inhaled, finding that his breathing was already beginning to even out. His muscles ached. His chest ached. Every inch of his body hurt like hell.

But he was...fine. Relatively speaking. He was a superhero after all. He’d just gotten his ass handed to him. Again.  

But Raven didn’t know that.

The instant the thought occurred to him, he froze--and not just because of the literal paralysis.

Raven didn’t know he was perfectly conscious.

Beast Boy had dedicated countless hours--entire years of his life--to the art of pulling off the perfect prank. He’d gotten everyone at least one point or another over the years. Even Silkie . But pranking Raven had always been like trying to solve a puzzle where none of the pieces fit together. It was impossible. He’d tried everything. Or so he’d thought.

He shut his eyes tight again, this time biting the inside of his lip to keep himself from blowing his cover. If he could get away with this, he could get away with anything .

In a matter of moments, the noises began to fade. The last shots were fired, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor. And then footsteps that stopped right up next to the side of his face. Someone pausing to lean down.

“Beast Boy, get up,” Raven said sternly, her voice close to his ear. So close he could nearly feel her breath on his face.

Instead of responding though, he continued to lie there, focusing every bit of willpower he had on holding his breath and keeping as still as humanly possible.

Needless to say, doing so became more difficult when he felt two icy fingers press up against the side of his neck. The minute Raven’s skin made contact with his own, he felt a shiver run down his spine. For a brief moment it occurred to him how foreign her touch was. Despite have known each other for so many years now, they rarely ever made physical contact. The only exception was accidentally kicking each other under the table at dinner or smashing into each other in a fight. Raven wasn’t exactly the kind of person you casually brushed up against in the hallway or high-fived after wrapping up a mission. It was a small thing, but in that moment, it felt huge.

“Oh come on,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to him. “Look, I already said I don’t have time for your stupid jokes.”

Beast Boy continued to hold his breath, dually to keep himself from breaking character and to keep himself from snickering.

And then she grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and started shaking. Lightly at first, then a little more abruptly. That was something he hadn’t anticipated at all --but at the very least the motion was enough to obscure the rise and fall of his chest as he snuck in a quick breath. Once she set him down on his back again, he relaxed his muscles completely, picturing the image of a rag doll and trying his best to mimic it.

Raven paused. She pulled away for a minute. There was a soft whistle as she breathed in sharply through her teeth.

“Shit,” she whispered, the syllable uttered harsh and quick. It gave Beast Boy pause for a moment.

“ Shit ,” she repeated, her voice shaking a little. There was a distinct lack of apathy in her tone as she said it. For a split second it almost sounded like she was...concerned. Actually concerned .

And suddenly Beast Boy was too.

This had been a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

But before he could pretend to ‘wake up’ and avoid fucking up the situation any more than he already had, Raven picked him up. Not with magic. She actually picked him up full on princess style. Of course, Raven was naturally stronger than the average person, despite mainly relying on magic when it came to fighting. Just another tiny detail about her that suddenly felt very significant.

Beast Boy felt himself freeze up again--but this time it wasn’t an act. What exactly was going on here? And why did he feel so...weird about it?

A second later they were moving.

Beast Boy’s heart began to pound. If he’d been able to pick up on Raven’s scent from over a mile a way, he could definitely smell it now. It was on her clothes and on her skin--both of which he was pressed directly up against. Suddenly two fingers on his neck seemed like nothing. He took a cautious breath in through his nose, not having really decided whether it would be best to keep playing along for now or blow the whole thing.

But the idea of there even being an option didn’t last long, because in the next instant, the unimaginable happened.

He sneezed.

Raven skidded to a stop immediately. When she looked down, she locked eyes with a very conscious, very much alive, very much panicking Beast Boy.

There was only one road out now--and it was the one he least wanted to take.

Playing along with his original joke. His shitty, poorly thought out joke .

If he could play it off as much, maybe he’d be able to slide out of this. Raven would roll her eyes and drop him on the ground. And it would be like it never even happened.

He threw a hand over his forehead. “The...light...” he choked dramatically. “Closer to the light.” He outstretched his other hand toward the sky—which was suddenly moving upward with lightning speed...as he fell flat on his back.

He’d expected as much. What he didn’t expect was the absence of a snarky remark from the girl who’d just dropped him.

Just then, he noticed Starfire finally making her way over to them. She was panting, sweating, completely out of breath. “I tried to follow them but--” She gasped, hands flying up to either side of her face. “Is everything the alright?” she asked, looking down at Beast Boy on the ground.

There was a pause.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Raven said, a hint of hostility in her voice. Without another word, she turned sharp on her heel and began to walk back the way they had come.  

Watching her go, Starfire extended a hand out to Beast Boy, helping him up. “What is wrong with friend Raven?”

“Pfft,” he said, trying his hardest to laugh it off. “Nothing’s wrong with her. She just doesn’t know how to take a joke.” But even as he said the words, he knew that what he’d done had been more than just a joke. It had teetered on a pretty dangerous line. Maybe even crossed it.

Starfire looked puzzled. “How can a joke be taken if it is merely a string of sounds?” she asked.

“I—it’s not important,” Beast Boy said, his mind elsewhere.

The trip back was slow and tiring. Beast Boy insisted that he could walk on his own for all of two minutes before letting Starfire carry him the rest of the way. By the time they made it back to the top of the tunnel they’d entered through, it felt like the battle they’d just fought took place a week ago. Maybe more. Time seemed to move more slowly--maybe because Beast Boy was preoccupied, mentally slapping himself every passing second.

When they reached the clearing, Raven was sitting criss cross in the air at the opposite end, meditating.

“I suppose we will have to tell Robin that we have failed,” Starfire said sadly, helping Beast Boy sit up against a nearby tree.

“Eh, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Beast Boy said, trying desperately to sound uninterested and unaffected. “I figure we’ve got some time to make up a convincing story before he gets here.”

But just as Beast Boy closed his mouth, a flash of bright yellow headlights cut through the trees, rushing toward them. A vehicle—unmistakably Robin’s motorcycle—skidded to a halt just at the edge of the clearing. The figure riding it lifted off his helmet and gave his short dark hair a ruffle before swinging off the bike and walking toward them.

“Finally! Do you know how long it took me to find you all without any tracking devices?” he said, panting. “Cyborg’s been going nuts trying to--” Then he paused and took a moment to look around more closely at the scene. First he looked over at Raven in the corner, her back to the rest of the group. Then he glanced down at Beast Boy, limply propped up against the tree and covered in blood. Finally he looked at Starfire, who had never learned how to keep a particularly convincing poker face.

Robin’s own facial expression shifted dramatically, his tone dropping. “What. Happened .”

“I—we—there was—” Beast Boy fumbled, pointing at himself, then Raven, then at the hole to his left.

“Beast Boy happened,” Raven interjected, harshly, her back still turned to them.

“Beast Boy?” Robin repeated, addressing him directly.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, avoiding eye contact.

Robin threw him a skeptical look.

“He was hurt,” Raven said, finally turning around. “So I told him to stay behind—and did he? No. Of course not. He came running after us trying to ‘help’,” she scoffed, making air quotes as she said it. “Queue Mr. Genetic Mistake rushing in with a broken leg and getting knocked out, making ajoke out of it, and buying the idiots we were chasing just enough time to escape.”

Robin turned back to looked at him, disappointed.

“She forgot the part where I was the one who figured out where they were hiding,” he said defiantly, pointing at himself. His caution momentarily replaced by an edge of defensiveness.

“Yeah,” Raven sneered. “By ringing the doorbell.”

“At least it helped us find the entrance!”

“An entrance they’re definitely going to close off or relocate because now we know where it is .”

Robin sighed a long, deep sigh. “Alright. That’s enough.” He rubbed his temples, eyes shut. “We can’t do anything about it now except hope to do better next time. Raven, help him out, would you?” he said, nodding toward Beast Boy. “Star, there’s some stuff I wanna ask you about the people you fought.”

Before she turned her back on him, Starfire shot Beast Boy one last sympathetic look. Though this one felt less like a ‘I feel for you,’ look, and more like a ‘glad it’s not me’ look.

Beast Boy looked down at the ground. He couldn’t risk meeting Raven’s eyes.

She approached him slowly, also avoiding looking directly at him. She crouched down next to him, silently placing her hands over his injured leg. A cloud of energy began to swirl above it, and the pain started to subside slowly but steadily.

Beast Boy snagged a quick glance at her face, trying to read her expression. She didn’t budge, as if healing him took every ounce of her concentration. He knew it didn’t.

For the third time that night, he felt somehow...uncomfortable with their close proximity. The silence only made things worse. So, without thinking, he tried to break it the only way he knew how.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I finally got you ,” he said, trying to manage a playful smile. He imagined that the one he mustered up wasn’t completely convincing.

Suddenly Raven stopped. The light faded from her hands. She stood up and looked down at him, this time dead in the eye.

“Not everything is a joke, Beast Boy,” she said sternly. “And one day, you’re gonna learn that the hard way.”

Beast Boy just sat there for a moment, processing what she had said. He tried to think of a response--some offhand one-liner that would lighten the mood. Those were his speciality. But he was drawing a blank.

“Alright you guys, let’s head home,” Robin called from the distance. “We’ll figure out what to do next tomorrow.”

Raven remained silent for another moment. She continued to looked down at Beast Boy, then she looked off to the side. It was subtle, but Beast Boy thought he heard her whisper something to herself under her breath.

She turned her back on him and walked away.

He crawled back to his feet on his own.

No one turned back to help him up.

[opheliawillowbrook]

Let the Record Show

A/N: So as stated, this fic has been written to provide closure to the infamous arc brought about in Nightwing #93 in which (if you are unaware-so spoilers!) Nightwing is raped by Tarantula (Catalina) after the death of Blockbuster because, (if you think like Devin Grayson) why the fuck not, right? Thankfully for those of you reading this, I don't. But in any case, my friend (Embrlee Frith) and I have discussed this arc in-depth and thought it (aside from most untactful) very poorly handled. Which is a shame since there really were some good bones to discuss, not just about rape, but also male rape victims in our society and the aftermath that all victims of sexual assault and rape survivors go through. However, as most of you are probably aware, DC and Devin Grayson sorta dropped that ball and refused to pic it back up. Though, to be fair, Ms. Grayson, being, well-Ms. Grayson, did try and clarify the scene by referring to it as "non-consensual sex" which is probably the most accurate example of an oxymoron one can bring to fruition, but that's a subject for another time. But given the sort of "mishandling" of the canon, I was commissioned by our lovely Ms. Frith to cover this subject matter and try and bring some closure to this event for both the reader and the character.

I'd also like to apologize to anyone offended by my words of Ms. Grayson. I'm clearly not a fan of her work (as I'm sure I've made it very clear) I just think as a writer this subject matter deserved far more respect than it got and this is my attempt at providing that.

I Also recently re-edited this story and hope the changes help make it feel finished. Please let me know what you think :) I also found a great song to go along with this fic. It's called "They're Not Horses, They're Dead Unicorns" by Bayside. So if you like a little music with you reading, you might enjoy it!

So if you're still reading this, I'd like to thank you. Let me know what you think and let's see if we can put this ghost to rest now, shall we?

As Always, With Love

-Ophelia

“She was a termite, Eating away at my roots. I was just a lost soul, who needed a home, I was filling, a void, with you.” --Bayside

He sat in a dark corner of the crowded bar at a small table by the foggy window. This was far from how he'd normally spend an evening, but tonight was far from a normal night. It had begun to rain over Gotham, the air thick with its dewy metallic scent. It almost smelled like blood—like her . He looked down at his half empty beer bottle, a little distressed that he was three drinks in, and the edge still wasn't off.

Drinking was always something he'd avoided, something he looked at as unnecessary and otiose, but in the wake of the past year, he'd built something of a tolerance to it. It was all he could do to cope at times. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic; he mostly only had a drink or two, but he still wasn't proud of the fact it was something he required now, that it was the only thing that came close to washing away that bitter taste.

It had been a year since he'd lost everything he'd worked so hard for. A year since he'd lost friends, his city, and the thousands of innocent lives within it. But worst of all, he'd lost a significant piece of himself, and he blamed himself for all of it. All because of one night, one choice and her.

The thought of her was nearly enough to make him sick as he downed a sip of beer to try and flush her foul taste from his mouth. However, the cheap beer and whisky was not enough to drown out the bitterness—that rotten taste he could just never get off his tongue. It was like he'd unknowingly bitten into a spoiled piece of fruit, only to find its sweetness was replaced with decay and maggots. He could still feel the invasive parasites crawl beneath his skin every now and then. At just the right moment, with just the right touch, or the right set of words. The feeling always left him feeling dirty, and no matter how hard he scrubbed or scratched, her touch would never wash off him. He'd wear her mark for the rest of his life.

What was worse was that he'd never told anyone about what had happened to him; he himself had a hard time believing its validity. In his mind, he tried to tell himself that what he thought happened was nothing of the sort. That the trauma of watching a man die was the reason for his physical and mental discord. Or at least that's what she'd told him.

Still, it never mattered how many times he tried to talk himself down, or how many times he tried to tell himself that what happened, hadn't happened at all. He could still never get that bloody taste out his mouth. He could even taste it on the air.

"I would have never pegged you as the drinking alone type," he heard a familiar voice say.

He looked up to find a single blue eye staring down at him, her lily-white hair draped around her black leather jacket.

"Rose," he said in a genuine shock, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you with the Titans ?"

"Yeah, about that," she said, taking a seat next to him, "that wasn't exactly hooking up. So I'm currently between jobs right now."

"Okay," Dick replied perplexed, "then what are you doing here?" he asked, entertaining some guilt that she'd gone out on her own. He was after all her mentor.

She shrugged somberly. "Well, I just found out that the closest thing I had to a best friend died…"

"Eddie…" he said ruefully, recalling that Tim recounted the incident, but he hadn't mentioned that Rose left the team. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a weak smile and stole a sip of his beer. "Don't be. Eddie died a hero, and in my book, he couldn't have gone out like more of a badass." She paused a moment, clearly remembering her friend. If anything, she was sad for herself, but refused to admit it. A lot like him.

"But with that being said," she added, "I'm here to drink my feelings and have a meaningless hook-up… Care to help a girl out, Grayson?"

She smiled at him coyly. He'd like to have thought she was joking, but he knew she wasn't. If Rose Wilson was anything, she was brutally honest, and he respected that.

"I can help you with the first half of your missions of self-destruction, but you're on your own with the latter."

"Eh, it was worth a shot," she shrugged, "but it's your loss."

"Somehow I'll live."

Sadly enough, part of him wanted to take her up on her offer. The idea of losing himself in another for a few hours was a tempting way to momentarily ease him of his current torment. However, he knew once the sheets were dirtied and the sweat was dried, he'd be right back where he began. Rose was also a little too young for him, and he didn't feel like adding statutory to his already stained morality. Though it seemed to be the least of her worries. But if nothing else, she'd make good company for his misery.

He ordered her a drink, mostly because he knew that if he didn't, she'd find someone else who would. And he'd have much rather been the man feeding her alcohol than one of the many seedy low-lives who'd jump at the chance to hinder the autonomy of a pretty 17-year-old girl. Not that Dick worried about Rose's ability to take care of herself. He knew she was more than capable, but if breaking one rule prevented her from making a horrible mistake, then he didn't see the harm in it.

The two sipped their beers and talked about their losses and gains. Though somehow they felt their losses were what made them who they were.

Dick took notice at how much Rose had matured, she'd oddly grown up a lot in the past year. She was still very much the same: Hot-headed and unpredictable, but she'd begun to understand how to use those things to her advantage. Dick couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. At least he'd done something right.

They both finished their drinks, and when Dick glanced up to the bar to get a second round, he froze.

It's never gonna stop...

Rose noticed his sudden shift, his face paused, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

"You okay?"

He snapped out of it and looked at her. "I have to go."

He took out his wallet and threw a couple bills down on the table, hurrying himself to leave. But it was too late, she saw him.

She stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to fix her drink. She looked like she were dressed for a funeral, as though she were burying her third husband. Her black dress was low, showing off the prominent curves of her breasts, her lips painted red, like they were stained with his blood. But it didn't matter how pretty she looked. For beneath that low black dress and behind that lipstick smile she flashed at him, he could see just how ugly she truly was.

Suddenly it was like the world stopped turning and the ground fell from beneath his feet. He was back in that moment again, like the scar had been ripped open with a dull knife, the blade delving deep into his dignity.

It's never gonna stop...

"Dick?" He could hear Rose's voice, distant, like she were 100 miles away. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know..."

He took off, practically running out the door, pushing past the crowd of people until he was out in the pouring rain. It was as though he couldn't breathe, like his lungs had filled with a toxic smoke, smothering him in with past he just couldn't shake. He could feel the rain hitting his face, a sensation he'd once found clean and refreshing, only now it felt like an affliction, like a cancer burning into his skin. Convicting him with the sins he'd committed, and the ones committed against him.

Rose had immediately run after him, knowing something was deeply wrong.

"Dick! Dick, wait!" Rose called, her platinum hair looking grey beneath the foggy rain. "Are you okay—what happened?"

He didn't stop, he just kept moving, not sure what to say. "I just need to go home, Rose."

It was a terrible excuse, but it was the best he could come up with. Plus, what could he really say? He couldn't even admit the truth to himself, never mind a teenage girl who held him in such high standing.

"It's okay, you can tell me," she urged, but he still wouldn't stop. "It was that girl, wasn't it?"

He stopped. The rain beating down on him like it had in that very night a your ago.

"She did something to you, didn't she?"

He turned, at a loss, not even sure what to say, but before he could speak, he saw her again.

She'd stepped out of the bar, just under the overhang, looking out at him through falling sky. He stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to show her how badly he hurt. How deeply that scar through his heart ran. But another part of him was still too afraid to even look her in the eye. For a moment he thought she'd try and approach him, but she didn't, and at first, he couldn't understand why. Then it hit him. And no, it had nothing to do with melting Wicked Witch of the West style.

Rose...

She had now locked her eyes on the woman beneath the overhang, keeping herself from the damp air.

Dick wasn't sure what would come next. Part of him wondered if Rose would, well, pull a Rose and throw a right hook across Catalina's face. Or if Catalina would say something in an attempt to dismiss the younger girl. Something he knew wouldn't go over well.

However, Rose surprised him. She turned her scowling face away from the woman in black and walked toward Dick.

"Come on," she said over the percussion of rain. "This place will let anyone in, we're better off at your place."

The whole speech was a jab at Catalina. She didn't need her mentor to tell her anything, she already knew. Like she could smell that primal fear radiating off him, or possibly even something about the way that woman looked at him. Her smile gilded with something predatory, hungry for self-satisfaction and the taste of blood on her tongue.

Rose took him by the arm and led him away, the rain still pouring down around them. It's humid smell rising from the flooded pavement beneath his feet. Dick could still feel her eyes on him, a feeling of shame ricocheting down his spine as he was whisked away by his own protégé, the old one merely watching as she did so. He'd faced murderous mad men, violent Metahumans, and bloodthirsty demons, but somehow, a simple human woman was the greatest monster he'd ever faced. A woman he could have easily overpowered, yet somehow couldn't. The thought left a deep wound in his masculinity, like he failed as a man, like maybe he'd let it happen. These poisonous thoughts were something he'd become accustomed to ever since Catalina had taken matters into her own hands.

By the time they made it back to Dick's apartment, they were both soaked to the bone. He could feel the filthy rain collecting along his jaw and dripping heavily from his chin as he unlocked the door. Rose noticed his hands were shaking and he cursed at himself as he struggled to steady them. He finally got the key into the lock and turned it, looking around before entering the safety of his home. They entered the reasonably sized studio apartment, and Dick flicked on the light. He closed the door behind them, locking the knob, deadbolt, and key chain. Rose, of course, thought it was a bit overkill, but given his reaction to the woman at the bar, she'd have done the same thing.

"She's really got you on edge," Rose said, pulling off her soggy coat. "Who is she?"

"No one."

"Well, then she's a whole lot of no one ." Rose grimaced. "I'm sensing "They're Not Horses, They're dead Unicorns," vibe?"

"Something like that…" he sighed, wiping the rain from his brow, "only in the darkest context possible."

"What do you think she wants?"

He looked up at her. He hadn't really thought of that. It had been a year since he'd seen her last, since he just walked away and never looked back. She got what she wanted, why would she come back now?

"Fuck," he huffed blankly and sat down. His mind digging up an old thought he'd once had, one he prayed wouldn't come to fruition.

Rose could see the lost look in his eyes and the disparity quaking in the space where his heart used to be. This was nothing new to her. Whatever he lost, he'd lost it before they'd met. Only now she was beginning to understand what that was. She could now see just where that jaded and cynical nature came from, exactly what cracks left him shattered. Unlike many, she was actually about to see exactly what slipped through those cracks, exactly what had been taken away from him.

"I take it whatever she did to you, you're not over it?"

He looked at her with an ill expression and ran his hand through the fringe of his damp hair. "I don't know if I'll ever be over it," he said ruefully. That was the closest he'd ever come to admitting it, to saying it aloud.

Rose looked down, that was all she needed to hear. He didn't need to say more.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

He glanced up at her and smiled at a loss, but also for the fact that she didn't laugh at him, that she didn't seem to judge him for it. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admitted. "Some days I can live it, then come days like this, where I can barely get my shit together."

She could understand that feeling, knowing how it felt to want to shed the scars that bind you, only you can't help but be who they've made you.

"You can talk about it if you want."

"Thanks," he said, and smiled falsely, "but talking about it is something I'm still not quite able to do." He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, like it were they that had betrayed him. "I just don't understand it completely. And honestly, I just wanna forget it ever happened."

"But your body won't let you."

He nodded painfully, almost feeling like he had to vomit. He had to change the subject. "Sorry I ruined your night."

Rose smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "No big deal, you probably saved me from making a poor life choice."

"That's probably true," he conceded with a nod.

"Yeah, seriously. Once my brain tastes alcohol it's like it's go time! Let's make some fucking mistakes! And see how quickly you can ruin the life you work so hard for..." she broke into a slight giggle. Rose was often amused with her on sense of humor.

Dick shook his head, well aware that Rose Wilson and alcohol were not meant to be in good company with each other. That girl could do a whole lot of damage and end up with one hell of a hangover. But he laughed anyway.

"But hey, now I can technically say I went home with Nightwing. I got braggin' rights now."

He shook his head at her shit-eating grin, realizing she'd probably use that to piss off daddy . It would also do little for either of their dwindling reputations, but he had bigger problems to worry about.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it, but I get the feeling you think she found you," Rose said. "Is she capable of that?"

Unfortunately enough, she was. She was an ex-FBI agent, after all. She probably knew exactly where he was this entire time and he never even thought to look behind him. But truth be told, he didn't want to know. It was easier if he didn't go looking for her in every shadow that haunted every corner.

"Yeah."

"Do you think she's been following you?"

He didn't want to think of that either, but he wouldn't put it past her. "Yeah, and it wouldn't be the first time."

"Jesus." Rose scowled. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"A year ago."

"So what's she doing, slinking up from Hell for some fresh air, thinking she'd just drop by, say hello?"

Dick grimaced. "I'm honestly really afraid to find out…" The look on his face hardened, consequence tying his tongue.

"Oh…" She paused a minute, thinking about how devastating that would be. To have something so heavy thrust upon you; forever tied to the person who'd already taken so much. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, and I really hate to say this, but there's no way she'd look like that if she'd dropped a fucking kid like three months ago."

Dick looked up at her. Only Rose would say something like that.

"I mean her tits would be like on the floor," she added crassly. "She could take a fucking eye out with those puppies, and I should know."

He glared at her, not sure whether to scowl or laugh. On one hand, her banter was oddly amusing, and on the other, he had a really hard time accepting humor in that moment. But maybe that was his problem.

"Rose, I know you're just trying to help, but if you could stop talking about how hot Catalina is, that would be great."

"Hey, I never said that walking gash was hot, I just said her fucking boobs could have their own gravitational pull," she corrected. "Life's not fucking fair, man," she added referring to her own humble cup size.

"Yeah, it's not," Dick accorded coldly, and he couldn't have agreed more.

His life had literally become one horrible montage of one bad thing after the next, and it all started the second she showed up. In the beginning, he actually felt guilty for feeling that way, like it was somehow unfair of him to blame her for things that came of his own volition. But with time, it simply just became part of his coping mechanism. Catalina equaled death, devastation and rape, and he just couldn't see past that. He liked to think if he'd just never met her, or if he'd just thrown her ass in jail when he had the chance, that everything would be different. Maybe nobody would have died, and that Blüdhaven would still be standing today.

What was worse, and the thing that ate at him the most, was that he'd willingly invited her into his life. He'd delivered himself like some naive lamb to slaughter because he'd actually once felt sorry for her. That's what it had always come down to. She had a shitty life, it wasn't her fault. If he had just been a better man, or a better mentor , she wouldn't have turned out like that. It didn't seem to matter that she was a grown woman and should have known better, he still made excuses for her. But now, he couldn't excuse that she was stained in his blood and the blood of others, and he couldn't do shit about it. Catalina was literally like a flesh-eating bacteria to him. A termite eating away at his body and soul.

"You've never actually confronted her, have you?" Rose asked, once again pulling him into the now.

He sighed and shook his head. "Not really—no. There was so much going on after it happened and I was still kinda in shock. She told me I wasn't thinking straight and that the trauma I'd experienced made me look at it that way. I believed her because I wanted to, but as the shock wore off and I began to see how far she'd burrowed into my life… I knew I was right."

He seethed a moment, that foul metallic taste overcoming his mouth.

"She was literally taking over my life, acting like she'd done nothing wrong—acting like she belonged with me. I couldn't take it, so I left."

"That's when you started mentoring me…" Rose said, having a rough idea of the timeline.

Dick looked up, it really was ironic. He'd been so badly burned by one protégé, and the other was the only thing keeping him from crawling out of skin.

"Yeah, you turned out fine, though."

"Yeah, because of you," Rose urged. She owed him everything. Without Dick Grayson, who knew where she'd be. "Without you, I could never be a hero."

He looked at her fondly, but he knew she didn't feel like one. He didn't feel like one either.

"Y'know," Rose began, "sometimes you gotta take your pound of flesh and just walk away."

"I'm really not one for revenge, Rose."

"I saw the way you looked at her, Dick," she said, sitting next to him, "like if you could kill her and get away with it, you would."

He didn't say anything, but that was exactly how he felt, only he knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix him.

He rose from the couch and walked to a drawer, he opened it and took out an old shirt, throwing it over to Rose.

"You should change out of those wet clothes. There's a laundry room downstairs if you wanna throw your stuff in the drier."

She caught the shirt and nodded. "Yeah, there's no way in Hell I'm leaving you alone tonight. Not with Psycho Bitch on the prowl."

He smiled. "Wanna order a pizza?"

"You paying?"

After that, the two talked about why Rose left the Titans, and why she felt she didn't really fit there. They talked about Eddie, and how Rose had asked him to leave with her. That was a little painful.

Rose asked how things with Barbara were going (they were supposed to get married, after all.) However, the answer was nowhere. Apparently Dick was having a hard time functioning in the relationship, specifically because Barbara was always so micro-focused on everything he did. From what she understood, that was nothing new. Barbara had a reputation for being a little unforgiving, especially when it came to Dick. And Rose could totally understand why he didn't feel comfortable opening up to her about what he'd been through. He wanted her to see him as strong and competent. He'd probably feared she'd think he were exaggerating, or scold him for being too trusting with Catalina in the first place. And though his fears weren't necessarily warranted, she understood why he felt that way. Nobody wants the love of their life to see them as damaged.

He apparently tried his hand at a few other relationships, but nothing really seemed to fit. Everything just seemed uncomfortable, and in some cases, much like with Barb, they just didn't have the patience for his newfound affliction. It's like everything just felt so disconnected.

His concept of touch was altered, and not the violent sort, the intimate kind. Little gestures made his stomach sink, especially if he wasn't expecting them. There were times when a woman he was deathly attracted to would lean in, and he'd pull away without a second thought. It had just become instinct. Even something as simple and comforting as a hug had become a perversion of itself. He hated how things of such simple kindness now held such rue and disdain. Things that once breathed of love and strength were now among the things he feared most. It was like the ties to his humanity were cut clean from his bones.

Dick looked at the time to find the hour was far beyond late, and he was beginning to feel it as well.

"I think I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You can take the bed."

Rose shook her head. "No, I'm good with the couch. Unless, you wanna share the bed with me," she said with a sly grin.

"No offense," Dick said, and smiled, "but I'd rather take the couch. Nice try, though."

"What can I say, I'm not a quitter."

"And I admire that, but you're off-limits."

She smirked at him, as if his comment gave her some vague validation. "Yeah, but if you change your mind, the offer's still on the table," she added mischievously. "But for real, I'll take the couch. You're much taller than me, it's not really fair to make you sleep on it."

"You're not making me, I'm offering."

"And much like my offer, I'm not taking yours."

"Okay, then," Dick said, picking up a pillow. "Oh, and Rose…"

She turned and looked over at him questionably.

"If you pull that shit you pulled on Tim, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He threw the pillow at her and she smiled, actually looking a little embarrassed.

"Um, I plead the fifth," she replied, catching it. "But, I will say that I was absolutely shit-canned that night and my crowning achievement of the evening was that I didn't die."

"Sounds like you made some fucking mistakes."

"Oh, you know it."

"Night, Rose," he said, crawling into bed.

"Night, Deathwing."

He rolled his eyes. "I hate that name."

"I know."

He didn't get much sleep that night. For even in the still silence, his brain would not shut off. His body desperately ached to shut itself off, but this primal force would not allow it. He lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling, shuffling through the thoughts and fears. Counting the losses, wondering if there was anything gained through any of it, but he just couldn't seem to find anything.

Rose was fast asleep, curled up in a ball on the couch. He took a deep breath, both out of loss and boredom.

He couldn't help but wonder where she was then, where'd she'd been. If she'd been there this entire time, and he just hadn't seen her until now. What did that say if she had?

He finally found the word that he'd been searching for. The word that best described the vile taste in his mouth. The one that brought validation to the feeling he'd been struck with when he'd noticed her dressed all in black.

"Violated," he whispered into the darkness. That's how he felt—how he'd felt ever since the moment she'd touched him. Everything she'd done after that, and even before, was a violation of his life, his morality, his body and above all—his sanity.

He wondered if she'd even seen it that way. If there was one thing wrong with Catalina, it was her moral compass, but he couldn't see that as an excuse any longer. He couldn't accept that she just didn't know any better. If anything, that made it worse.

When the morning finally came, Dick had managed to snag a few meager hours of sleep, but it was better than nothing. He got up, showered, and made some coffee, the smell rousing Rose from what he could only describe as a near coma.

Lucky little bitch.

She stretched out on the couch like a lazy house cat who wanted her belly rubbed, but she wasn't so lucky.

"It lives," Dick said, bringing her a cup of much-needed coffee.

She smiled tiredly, sleep fresh in her eye. "Yeah, there were a few hours there where my soul was like, I should probably go …"

"Well, then consider this coffee the rejection notice to your DNR."

She took the mug and thanked him, taking a generous sip.

"So where you off to from here?" he asked, heading back behind the counter.

She shrugged. "Not sure yet. I'll probably just wander around until something sticks."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll revise the game plan," she replied flatly. "Or maybe retire to Florida and die."

"You're kinda young for that," he laughed.

"When has age ever stopped me?"

He raised a brow. "Good point."

"What about you?" she asked. "What's next for Nightwing? "

"Breakfast." He took a carton of eggs from the fridge and a package of bacon. "You like bacon, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied, stretching again. "Anyone who doesn't can't be trusted."

"That's what I like to hear. Eggs scrambled?"

"Sure," she laughed, rising from the couch and leaning against the counter.

He noticed the shit eating grin on her face, he had to ask. "What's so funny?"

"Um, I'm wearing your T-shirt and you're making me breakfast, and the best part is, I didn't even have to blow you."

God, she has no filter, he thought. If that was her way of flirting, then at least one would always know where they stood with her.

"Well, I hate to ruin your little school girl fantasy, but would you mind beating the eggs?" he said, handing her a bowl and a whisk.

She smirked and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off at the pass. "And do not say what I know you're about to say."

"Oh you're no fun—I'm only kidding."

He laughed. "Rose, we both know you're not kidding."

She smiled coyly. "Guilty, but what do you want from me? At least I'm fun—unlike Kara. Now that girl's got a serious problem. You should see her Pinterest page. It's fucking creepy, and so is Cassie's…"

"I don't even understand what Pinterest is."

"Keep it that way, I wish I had. Girls get uber creepy on Pinterest." Rose paused a moment. "Speaking of creepy. I can only imagine what Cuntberry's Pinterest page looks like."

"Now I'm really happy I don't know what Pinterest is."

They went on to make breakfast and eat, continuing their banter, going on about old teammates and who was where. Dick offered to clean up while Rose took a shower, not that she needed an excuse to skip out on the cleanup. When she was done, she got dressed and ready to head out.

"You need anything," he asked, walking her out of the building, "like money or—"

"Thanks," she said, cutting him off, "but I'm good. Plus with a face like this, free alcohol won't be in short supply."

"I meant like... for food and a place to stay." He scowled playfully.

"I'm fine, my mom left me some money. So I'll be good until I figure out what the hell I'm doing."

"Well, I think you should go back to school."

"I have my GED, that's fine."

"A degree would better," he replied, pushing the door open. "You're a smart girl, it would be a shame to waste that."

"That coming from the boy who dropped out of Hudson University ... and became a cop."

"Hey, I got great benefits with that job."

"Yeah, 'cause being a trust fund brat doesn't pay, right?"

He pushed her playfully, and she punched his arm. "Ah," he whimpered, forgetting how strong she was. "So violent."

"Like you can't take it," she said, stepping out on the sidewalk. "So I guess this is me…"

He shrugged looking back at her and stepped out the door. "So where you staying?"

"Shitty motel, other side of town."

"Sounds swanky."

"It's kinda charming… if you like crime scene tape, the smell of burnt cigarette ash and a gratuitous amount of prostitution."

"Sounds a lot like your childhood."

She burst out laughing as if she didn't laugh she'd cry. "Sadly true. Lord only knows the damage I've suffered at the hands of my parents."

He smiled, reaching into his pocket, and took something out. "Here," he said, holding a pre-pay phone. "My number's already programmed in it. If you need anything, let me know."

She smiled gratefully and took the device. "Does that also include—" she began mischievously, until Dick stopped her.

"3am booty calls—no."

"Damn," she sighed. "Worth a shot though. And thank you… for putting up with me and my nonsense."

"Well, your nonsense actually helped me get through a pretty tough night so… thank you."

"Well, if you need anything, I'll probably be around later."

"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled.

She began to turn, but stopped and turned back to him. "Y'know how you're always telling me to not be so hard on myself and that I shouldn't be dwelling on the past because I can't change it and all that shit?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, vaguely."

"You should do the same," she replied. "You can't change what happened, but you can be stronger for it."

He looked at her a moment. She may not have been without her faults, but she really did possess a heart of gold. And he couldn't have been prouder of her.

He pulled her into a hug, slightly taking the girl by surprise, but she quickly relaxed into it.

"Thank you," he whispered. "It's nice to know I did something right."

She smiled against his shoulder. "You saw the good in me when I couldn't, I thought you deserved the same," she said, then finally pulled away. "Well this has officially gotten far too sappy for my liking. I'm off like a prom dress, Grayson."

"Bye, Rose!" He waved. "And be good!"

A smug expression fixed on her face. "I can make no such promise," she droned, "but for you, I'll try…"

He watched her leave, hoping she too, would find her place in the world. It would be a shame if she didn't. When she was gone, he turned to go back upstairs when a thought crossed his mind. A thought that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He looked around, it was like he could feel her , like he knew she was there, but he just couldn't see her.

I'm just being paranoid, he thought. I need to stop thinking about this.

He grudgingly shook off the feeling and headed back into his building. When he reached his apartment, he dug into his pocket, and his heart dropped.

"Damn it," he hissed, realizing he'd misplaced his key.

It wasn't really that big of a deal, he was more than capable of breaking into his own apartment. He just didn't really feel like doing it. He looked around, and noticed an old bobby pin lying on the floor, not far from where he stood.

"Perfect."

He picked up the pin and bent it back, he'd have the lock picked in no time. He placed his hand on the knob and inserted the pin, but before he could go to work on the lock, he realized the door was unlocked.

He froze. "No, it can't be…"

He turned the knob with an unsteady hand and slowly pushed the door open. He peeked his head in, looking around to see if anyone was there. He finally found the nerve to step inside. Part of him actually contemplating calling Rose and asking her to come back.

Fucking man up, Grayson , he thought, silently scolding himself, especially since a year prior this would have been nothing to him.

He looked around, nothing seemed to have been touched or out of place, everything was just the way he'd left it… except for one thing.

His eyes fell on his pillow; there was something lying there, something that just didn't belong. He approached his bed, slowly, readying himself for anything that came his way in that moment. Deep down, he hoped he was just over-exaggerating, that maybe Rose had left it there for him. But any hope of that was dashed when he peered down at the envelope and saw her handwriting, scratched across the white paper in red.

Mi Amor, it read as he picked it up, a vile mix of anger, fear, disgust and bitterness pressing into his flesh as he held it.

She was here…

His knees buckled and he collapsed, too overcome by the thought that she'd been in his home. That she could, and did, actually take that security away from him. How could she? Did she actually think this tactic was romantic? Or was this simply just a power play? How long had she been waiting for him to leave? She had to have been watching him.

He felt sick and threw the letter down, scrambling for the waste basket, his body violently purging the contents of his stomach. He dry heaved a few times, his breath tight, his heart pounding in his throat. His face was hot, everything was hot.

He tried to focus, and pull himself out his current state of duress. "Think of something else…"

But he couldn't. And the truth was, that was what she wanted. She didn't want any other thought to cross his mind, she wanted that space for herself. She wanted to consume him.

He sat there a while, forgetting about time, his mind just completely racing until it finally grew numb. Everything went numb.

He resented it—feeling like a victim, but he was one, and he hated her for it. He hated how weak he'd become and how easily he crumbled at the mere thought of her. He hated that she'd infiltrated him and festered in his mind. That she was the source of such rotten memories, each one decaying as he slept, the infection spreading through his consciousness and destroying his sanity cell by cell.

He looked down at his hands, flashing back to an image that had burned itself in his mind, one that made him recoil. He could see her face through the billowing shadows and the silver flecks of rain, her eyes cast down on him. Through the still frames, his quaking hand reached up to stop her, but failed to do so, his objection falling on not a deaf ear, but an ignorant one. He felt empty, like he'd died, his heart ceasing to beat, but somehow, left watching from his empty shell. Like a cage with a dead bird inside.

Now, in that very hand, he held the letter, nearly forgetting it was there. He didn't want to open it, he didn't care what she had to say, or how she felt, or how fucking crazy she was. None of that mattered, she'd already taken too much. She could kill him for all he cared, at least then it would be over.

He pulled himself together and tore the envelope open. He took out the piece of fine paper, a faint scent hitting him like a ghost he was far too familiar with. It was her perfume, an odious blend of mahogany and teakwood. It was slightly musky and wreaked of her cruel brand of femininity. The smell was enough to force his flesh to crawl, his hand aching as his eyes flashed with the loathsome image of her shadow in the rain.

He took a heavy breath and unfolded the note, the same red ink staining the purity of the pale page, his stony blue eyes growing grey as the storm rolled in.

To my dearest Amor, Mi Tesoro,

(And if that wasn't enough to induce vomiting...)

It's been far too long, I know. My time away from you has been nothing but agonizing. I tried—I really did—to stay away like you asked of me, but… I just couldn't. And to be honest, if I could find a way to tie you to me so that you'd never leave me again—I would. No one could ever love you the way I do, or as much as I do, Mi Amor.

As for the last time we saw each other, I forgive you. I know you were in a dark place then, and I'm hoping you'll let me help to ease that pain. I would die for you, I hope you know that.

I'm sorry to contact you like this, but I cannot stand the thought of you rejecting me in person—not again. I want to start over with you, I want things to be different between us. Please meet me tonight at the bar. After seeing you last night, I can't wait any longer. I don't know what I'll do if you don't show… Please just give me this one thing.

If for whatever reason you decide not to show, just know I love you with my dying breath, and know I always will…

Todo Mi Amor, Catalina

Her words read like sugar laced with cyanide, delusional and so far removed from the suffering she'd caused. Like she'd come back to rip what was left from his half-empty chest. The letter still hung in his hands, the red ink somehow disturbing to him. Granted, the whole gesture was disturbing to him. She'd violated his privacy, his home, his body, and written down every word of it as though it were love. And maybe it was-the deadly kind .

He looked again at that last line, those deathly sweet words bring him back to one moment.

It's never gonna stop…

And, indeed, it was never going to stop.

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, trapped in grief. He just didn't know what to do. He tried running off, he tried sending her away. He'd literally had her locked up and thrown away the key, and still, she somehow managed to slither her way out of that. What could he do now?

He finally removed himself from the floor and made sure every window and door was locked up tight. He immediately ripped off all his clothes and took another shower in a feverish, angry fashion, the water so hot it nearly blistered his skin, and remained that way until it finally ran numbingly cold. But he still felt dirty.

He got out of the shower and looked at his worn face in the mirror. He felt as though he'd aged about a thousand years, yet he was trapped in the body of a twenty-something year-old man. A shell of who he used to be. That foul taste still sour in his mouth, mixing with the sick taste of bile. If only she were like old gum to him, momentarily sweet, but tasteless, something he could spit out and forget. He did his best to brush away the putrid flavor, but like so many nights he'd endured, he just couldn't rid himself of her aftertaste.

He didn't bother getting dressed, he just crawled into bed and lay there, wishing he could sleep, but such a mercy was not granted to him. As the hours passed, he thought about the yesterdays: The long sleepless nights, the following days after Blockbuster's death and what came of it. Each frame passed by him like a fog, like ghosts without names, aimlessly moving through him. Their cold hands removing pieces of him and burying them beneath wilting flowers where they'd lie forgotten, rotting away into nothing.

After a few hours of silently wasting away, he looked at the time. It was a little after 5pm. He was hungry, but he didn't really care, mostly because it didn't matter what he ate, he'd still taste her.

His phone rang, startling him. He missed the days when he wasn't so jumpy. Now if someone so much as touched him, his skin would crawl. He didn't want to bother getting it, but knew if he didn't, it might raise some concerns on the other end. He just hoped it wasn't anything important. Or better yet, he hoped it wasn't her.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he heard Rose say, "whatcha up to?"

Lying in bed contemplating killing myself. "Nothing, thinking about making dinner. You?"

"Eating dinner, and binge-watching Dexter. "

"That sounds… like a weird combo…"

"Yeah, this show makes me hungry, as do most things, really."

Dick shook his head. She really did take after her uncle Wade.

"So did you just call to tell me about how watching a serial killer dismember other serial killers makes you wanna polish off a second plate of ribs, or did you actually need something?"

She giggled a moment, but then got back to the matter at hand. "No, I was calling to see how you were. Y'know, that whole song and dance…"

He smiled vaguely, but felt guilty. He didn't want to lie to her, but that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I'm fine, Rose. You don't need to worry about me," You have enough to worry about…

"You sound a little…" She paused, trying to find a delicate way to put it. "Y'know, like you're thinking of going down the street instead of across it." Well… delicate for her.

He sighed. "It's not like that."

It kind of was.

"Anything I missed?"

He looked down at the letter. "Nope, just still a little shaken from last night, that's all."

"Y'know, if you want me to, I can come over…"

Part of him really wanted the company, but the other part of him didn't want to drag her in any deeper than she was. "I'm fine, Rose. I'm still trying to figure shit out."

"I know," she replied. "I just know how hard it is when the very thing that emptied you is out there and you know it."

She may have been young, but she knew a lot about betrayal, abuse, and heartbreak. Though in Dick's case, heartbreak wasn't at all the right term. It was more like having his heart cut out.

"Do you think if I confronted her," Dick asked cautiously, "it would be a bad idea?"

There was a pause from Rose's end, and he could hear her breath hitch slightly. "No," she finally began, "I think if that's what you need to do, then you should do it." There was conviction in her voice. She understood all too well. "But Dick…"

"Yeah."

"If you do, just know that it will probably end badly. You never really know what you're capable of when someone who's hurt you that deeply is standing right there in front of you… You might not even know what she's capable of."

She wasn't wrong. Dick could think of one particular moment where he'd come dangerously close to bludgeoning Catalina to death. His outburst frightened him. He'd never before been that angry or volatile, and the fact was, in that moment, he wanted kill her.

Maybe I shouldn't go…

"But I understand that maybe you need to face her, let her see what she did to you. Let her know what will happen if she ever tries to do that to you again…"

He took a deep breath, he'd never really gotten the closure he needed. He was too wrapped up in everything else. Not to mention, part of him was still in denial, trying forget it ever happened. But it didn't matter how many times he told himself it was a simple "misunderstanding," or how many times he tried to chalk it up to guilt, it still happened, and it happened to him.

"So what do you have on the agenda tonight?"

He could hear Rose click her tongue, and she replied, "I was gonna polish off a third plate of ribs," she joked, "but if you have a suggestion, I might be down…"

"I was thinking of getting a drink… "

A few more hours had passed. Dick had gotten dressed and finally left his apartment, which took more effort than he liked to admit. However, it helped to know that he wasn't going into this situation blindly or alone.

The rain from the night before had dissipated, the air cool as the wind blew over his shoulder. The street was unusually quiet for once. It was peaceful, but unnerving, much like the past year. Hopefully that meant something—something good.

Each step took a little more persuasion than the last, each muscle recalling the touch of her cold hands, the stink of the rain and emptiness that followed all of it. The only thing that drove him was the notion that this might lead to the end. That whatever followed tonight was for the better. He just hoped, silently prayed it was true.

He finally approached the bar, and that uncomfortable feeling grew tighter in chest. It reminded him of how he felt after he'd lost his parents. The loss and uncertainty colliding together like the harsh winds and rains of a hurricane, leaving a lifetime of devastation in its wake.

He paused when he got to the door. Part of him wanted to turn away and just forget about the whole thing. However, he wasn't sure what would happen in the fallout if he did. He took another deep breath, and pulled the door open. The bar wasn't overly crowded, unlike the night before. The table by the window was open, and he sat himself down like he'd never left. He looked around, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings. Rose was already sitting in the back corner, polishing off what looked like a Mai Ti, the poor guy next to her probably striking out. She glanced over at Dick with a sly grin, and bit into the cherry left in the boozy remnants of her drink.

Yeah, the poor bastard's not getting very far with her.

Dick looked around. Catalina was nowhere to be found, and part of him hoped it would stay that way. But he knew he wouldn't be so lucky, she'd show eventually, and if she didn't, he didn't even want know what would happen then.

A period of ten, then twenty minutes went by. Rose was already finishing her second drink and chewing through her second guy, while Dick hadn't even taken a sip of his beer. He heard the door open and he looked up, a cold wash of fear running straight through his veins. She looked over at him and smiled, disturbingly, as if nothing were amiss. Like she couldn't even see that he was practically crawling out of his skin.

She went straight to the bar, happily flirting with the bartender who remembered her. He fixed her a glass of red wine and poured a few fingers of whisky. The whole time Dick glared at her, noticing her lip color was the same, her frame now covered in a form fitted black coat. He heard his phone vibrate, and quickly checked it.

Rose: Something tells me Tits has your whole funeral planned out on Pinterest.

He shook his head and replied: Seriously, she looks like she's dressed for the occasion too!

"What's so funny?" he heard, and looked up. There she was.

She set down her wine and pulled out her chair, placing the whisky in front of Dick.

"I thought you could use this," she said, pulling off her coat and sitting down.

"I think I'm good," Dick replied, pushing it away. "I remember the last time I accepted a drink from you."

She was still wearing black, this dress being a little different from the last, but cut just as low and shamefully short. Once again, she looked like some rich trophy wife burying the husband she killed.

"So you do blame me for that ?"

"You got me shit-faced and tried to make me marry you," Dick scowled, "how is that not your fault?"

Catalina smiled as if nothing were wrong. "I didn't come here to argue, Mi Amor, I—"

"DON'T, call me that ," Dick snapped angrily.

She glared at him, nearly speechless. "I've always called you that—"

"Well, I don't want you to," Dick growled. "I never did."

"Like I said," Catalina continued cautiously, "I didn't come here to argue, I came here to talk."

"You have five minutes and that's all you're getting from me."

She lifted her wine and fraughtly sipped it. "So I see you're still upset with me."

"You could call it that, yeah."

"I thought giving you time would help, I guess I was wrong." She peered down at the drink she'd bought him, still untouched. "You're really not gonna drink that?"

"No," Dick replied coldly, "I don't want anything from you."

She looked back at him, insulted. "I didn't know what I was doing then, okay? I was just as lost as you were."

"Really, because it felt like you were leading the way. Leading me right off a damn cliff."

"Because you let me," she asserted. "You did the moment you got out of my way."

His stare hardened, and for a moment, he almost saw red. "You bitch," he hissed. "You still want me to believe that it was my fault . You still want me to feel guilty for what you did."

"I did what needed to be done." She lifted her glass again. "I did what you couldn't."

"Because it was wrong. "

"Sometimes a little wrong can serve a great right." She smiled at him, like she didn't feel anything. "I know you have a hard time seeing that, it's why I did what I did. So you didn't have to."

"So what, you want me to thank you?" Dick asked bitterly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Because if I thank you, then I own it, right?"

"No," she replied with a chill, and placed her glass on the table. "I wanna know it was worth it."

"I've given you enough, I'm not giving you that too."

"You really believe that?" she asked, wounded. "You haven't given me nearly what I've given you."

Dick laughed patronizingly. "You're a liar. The only thing you have ever done is take, Catalina. And I don't know what else you want from me, but I have nothing left for you to take."

Her face softened, but he wasn't sure why. "I don't know what you mean… but heartbreak can bring out the ugliness in all of us."

He thought he was going to lose it.

"Heartbreak?" he questioned. "Fucking heartbreak!"

"Keep your voice down, people can hear yo—"

"No, Cat," he declared, leering at her, "you didn't break my heart, you ATE it. That way I could never get it back!"

She grimaced. "I don't understand where this is coming from, Mi Amor. I would never intentionally hurt you like tha—"

His hand fell on the table with a slamming percussion. "Then why did you fucking rape me, Cat?" Dick hissed, so that only Catalina could hear him.

Her brow creased as she leaned in. "What the hell…" She was speechless, a little taken back. "What are you even talking about? I would never do such a thing to you..."

"The rooftop, Cat! What, you don't remember? Was me telling you not to touch me just a minor inconvenient detail to you?"

"We went over this," she reasoned, hushed, "you were in shock, you didn't know what you were saying—"

"Then why the hell would you think it'd be a good idea to fuck me then?"

"There is no need to be vulgar. I—"

"Vulgar," Dick laughed. "I'm sorry my choice of words is making you uncomfortable—I mean you raped me, so I guess I owe you some sense of decency, right?"

"Stop saying that—it didn't happen like that."

"Yes, it did," he insisted. "You fucking raped me and you do it every time you sit there and act as if you're entitled to a part of me—to a part of my life . Or when you act like it's me—like I'm the one with the problem!"

"Because all I've ever done is love you and you've given me nothing!" she spat, her face beaming red.

"So you fucking took it, you bitch," he seethed, his voice poisonous.

"You never appreciated anything I did for you," she hissed. "I almost spent my entire life behind bars for you!"

"For what you did, in my name," Dick corrected. "How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

"Loved," she replied with a warning, like it was some end all-be all. "I did it because I love you, because I saw how much you needed me, how much you needed me to do that for you . And you let me. Tell me that isn't love ."

He was honestly frightened. He could see that deep in her eyes she believed what she was saying. That she thought by killing Blockbuster, it would make him love her, but it didn't. It only pushed him away, and she couldn't let go of that.

"You need help."

"I need you," she countered. "I love you more than anything, and I can't live without you ."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Dick asked. "Because I'm not falling for it, not this time."

"So what? Blockbuster's death is a stain on your conscience, but my life, what—not so much?"

Dick looked away from her, he knew she would probably play this card. The truth was, he would care if she did something to hurt herself, especially to spite him—it terrified him, in fact. But if he played into it, she'd win, and he'd never be free of her.

"No, of course I'd care, but if you really loved me, you wouldn't leave me with that guilt. That would destroy me, and you know that. How is that love?"

He could see her blood practically boiling. He had her cornered logically, she wasn't getting out of this one.

Lucky for her, she didn't have to. The bartender approached them, standing behind Cat and looking at Dick as if he were the bad guy.

"If there's a problem here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," he said, obviously addressing Dick.

He looked over to the man, he was just doing what he thought was right, rescuing the damsel. Dick would have done the same if he didn't know any better. But still, it made him sick that everyone would assume she was the victim—that she actually thought and acted like the victim.

Dick pushed out his chair when Catalina turned and raised her hand.

"There's no problem here," she said calmly, "this is just a simple misunderstanding ."

She looked over at Dick, she wanted him to agree. Only he wasn't interested in doing what she wanted—not anymore.

"It's okay," he said, letting his eyes drift down to Catalina, "I was getting ready to leave, anyway."

The Bartender looked over at Dick as though he were one lucky son of a bitch, and smiled at the Catalina. "Well if you need anything, just let me know."

Yeah, wait till she bites your apple, hero, Dick thought a little bitterly as the man walked back over to the bar, his eyes still trained on Dick like a hawk.

Dick began to rise from the table, but the black widow protested. "We're not done here."

Dick looked back at her warningly. "I am."

She sneered from across the table and stood up as if to block his exit.

"Well I'm not."

Dick looked back at her, a little intimidated, not so much for the fact that she was standing in his way, but for the fact that if he even touched her he'd probably get his ass thrown in jail, and she knew that.

He peered over her shoulder to see Rose stand up, ready to kick "Tits" into next Tuesday if need be. Dick looked back at her, visually telling her to stand down. He couldn't allow her to take the fall for him—as much as she wanted to.

Catalina noticed his line of sight and looked behind her, a thick scowl casting over any beauty left on her face. She trained her sight back on Dick, the scowl taking on a mocking expression.

"What? Not man enough to face me without your little pet ? Nice, Dick."

Like she had any right to talk about pride or strength. She didn't know the first thing about being strong or brave. He needed to let her know that.

"You're the one who's jealous of a 17-year-old girl, but if you really must know, she replaced you, and she's ten times the hero you could ever dream of being, Catalina. You'll never be anything to anyone."

Out of anything he said, that seemed to hit her the hardest, but he wasn't sure why. Was it because he'd replaced her, or was it because he valued the replacement more than her? Or was it because he took away her validation as a hero?

She looked down bitterly, and made a fist. "Fine," she growled, "if that's how you feel, fine! But this isn't over…"

He didn't like the way she said that, but regardless, he let her continue.

"…Not by a long shot," she continued harshly. "So when you're done playing with little girls , I'll be waiting."

She leaned in as if she were going to kiss him, his lips hardened and cold, but she only smiled mockingly, hoping whatever stains she'd left on his soul would fester one last time. She placed her fist in his hand, her smirk deepening, feeling him writhe at the contact, but he still held his ground. He felt a small piece of paper fall into his palm and she closed his fist around it, holding her hands around his. He knew she was aware that he could do nothing, that's why she was doing it. He leered at her with a burning hatred, but that was all he could do. For now.

"Until then, Mi Amor."

He watched her walk out the door, the bartender still glaring at him. He wanted him out, and Dick was happy to oblige.

Rose finally moved from her corner, trying to mask the fact she was nervous for him, but covered it smugly.

"Ready to go?" she asked, and he nodded.

Within moments, the two were nearly out the door, but not before one last outburst.

"Wait," the frat boy who'd bought Rose a few drinks said, "you're going home with him? He didn't even buy you a drink!"

Rose looked back at the guy like he were wearing a helmet or something. "Yeah, last time I checked, buying a girl a few drinks was about as binding as a pinky swear. Stop acting like you bought me a lobster."

Dick shrugged at the guy, as did the bartender. Yeah, it sucked, but hey, home girl owed him nothing.

"Ready to go, Rose?"

"Like a prom dress."

And with a roll of the bartender's eye, they left.

They walked outside, the wind blowing a little harsher now. The sky above was clear, the stars managing to shine over the cityscape despite its dull radiance lifting into the air.

Dick admittedly felt a little freer, like some of the weight he'd been shouldering was alleviated, the space in his chest aching less. He'd said everything he needed to say to her, even if she wouldn't own up to any of it. He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd never acknowledge her wrongdoings, but it would have helped if she had. He may have even held some hope for her, but he knew now he should have never placed such a fragile thing in her hands to begin with.

"So was it worth it?" Rose finally asked, uncertainty bleeding from her eye.

Dick took a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm not fixed, but I'm better. And that's a good start."

Rose smiled weakly at him, she knew what it was like to feel that way. Just always short of whole.

"Yeah, it gets better with time."

Dick shuddered at the thought. Time was something that had become unbearable to him, to think it could actually help mend his wounds, seemed a little deceptive.

"I hope you're right." He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder blade, guiding her down the street. "Thanks again. I don't know if I could have faced her without someone I trusted to back me up."

Rose smiled coyly. "You trust me?"

"Yeah," Dick said, and looked at her oddly. "I wouldn't have pushed for you to be a Titan if I didn't. What makes you think I don't?"

Her eyes fell on the ground. "Cause no one really does. Eddie did, but he's gone now. You just never really said it, so… I don't know—I guess I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't…"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Trust is something that you shouldn't have to say out loud, Rose, it's just something you feel. I trust you because at the end of the day you wear your heart on your sleeve and you don't bullshit anyone. I know you think you're not a good person, but you are, and deep down, you just want people to see that. You're a hero because you want to be a better person, and when you help people, you do it because it's right, not because you're looking for a favor, or to be favored."

"That's because you haven't received my bill yet, Grayson. You've racked up quite the tab, too," she joked, trying to get the focus off of her. "I'm kidding, by the way."

"I know. Humor is how you deal with crazy shit, it's that or anger. I'm glad you're turning to the former."

"I learned that from you," she said softly. "I saw how much you were hurting, yet you still found a way to make light of everything. I thought I'd give it a try."

"I'm glad you did."

They reached her Harley and she turned to her mentor with a sentimental half-smile. "Well, it's been real, but like every great adventure, my time here has come to an end."

"Yeah, I'm really gonna miss you. I'm shocked you haven't made a sexual innuendo all night."

"Well, it didn't seem appropriate given the circumstances, but, I found out the age of consent is 16 in the state of New Jersey… So y'know, if you wanna make out with me before I ride off into the horizon, I'd be cool with that."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I'm aware what the legal age of consent is, and no, no offense."

"You and your morality, Grayson," she said, picking up her helmet. "Maybe I'll have more luck with your brother."

"My brother?"

"You know, the guy with the red helmet, what's his name?"

"Oh… Jason," Dick said, less than enthused, "he comes with a lot of baggage."

"And you don't?"

"Touché."

"Well, I'm gonna head off now," Rose laughed. "No more psycho stalkers, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he said with a smile. "No more letting creepy guys buy you drinks."

"I let you buy me drinks."

He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Please take care of yourself, Rose."

She looked up at him and nodded. "I will, I promise… Deathwing."

"Okay, now get the hell out of my city and stop calling me that."

As he watched her go, he realized he finally understood. Understood why Catalina, a self-centered, ego-driven narcissist wanted to be a hero. It had nothing to do with helping humanity, or even making one life better. She had no need for that, it was all about power. Everything she did, every move she made was self-serving or a display of dominance. Killing Blockbuster, that was simply her playing God, forcing herself on Dick; that was taking what she wanted, but couldn't have, and she'd just reminded him of that. She couldn't leave him until she'd had the last word, till she'd sunk her fangs in him one last time to poison him. She just had to take away his power. Well, not anymore. If she wanted to act like an insect, he'd just have to crush her like one.

She waited, a glass of wine in her hand. She took as sip and looked down at her phone, recollecting the call she'd received. She was a bit shaken when she heard his voice, her heart teetering on its tipping point. He told her he was too rash, that he let his anger get the better of him, but he was ready to talk now. Ready to hear what she had to say. That he couldn't wait. She'd smiled at that, she knew he'd come around, he always did.

Without a second thought, she gave him her address and invited him over, telling him she would make it all better and left him with that.

She took another sip, her anticipation pumping through her veins, the heat of the wine mingling with her blood. She'd been waiting an hour, though it felt like a decade, but that hour was nothing compared to the lifetime she'd spent waiting for him.

A knock rapped at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched and she placed her glass down on the table and went to the door, taking a moment to check her makeup and fix her dress. She composed herself, taking a moment to quell her near giddiness. She finally opened the door, doing her best to display her most convincing bedroom eyes and found him in their fabled stare.

"Mi Tesoro," she said, sickeningly sweet, "I knew you'd come."

He smiled at her subtly. "You gonna invite me in?"

"Oh, of course, Mi Amor," she said huskily, "you're always welcome."

She shifted out of his way and he stepped inside. He took a quick look around. Her apartment wasn't big, but none of them were in that neighborhood. He should know—it was his neighborhood, after all.

"So tell me, darling," she began, closing the door, the faint click of the lock following, "why the sudden change of heart?"

He looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "You were right, I was just upset. I wasn't being fair to you… I'm sorry ."

She smiled, flashing a hint of victory. "I forgive you," she said, walking toward her prize. "Now why don't you let me heal you, Mi Amor." She placed her hands on his chest, a sinful look in her eye. "I promise, baby, I'm gonna take good care of you now."

He brought his hands to her face and smiled, cradling it as she closed her eyes, leaning in to seal her prey's fate. Only Dick had other plans.

His hand slid to the back of her neck and his face hardened to stone. His grip on her became cold and tight as he suddenly conjured an unnecessary amount of strength. Channeling every ounce of hatred, every violation, and every last bit of fear he held for her. He threw her, face first, into the high table beside them. She collided with the object with a violent force, the tempered glass surface cracking, and her wine glass shattering as it hit the the tile. She collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from her nose and into her mouth. She lifted her head, her body still in shock, as a rough hand tangled itself in her hair and pulled her motionless body around to face him.

He knelt down, hovering over her with an infuriated look in his eyes. She tried to look away from him, but he gripped her jaw and forced her to stare in his direction. She was going to hear this, whether she wanted to or not.

"If you so much as cast a shadow in my fucking direction, I will finish this job," he growled in a low voice. "As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me, Catalina—and I never wanna see your fucking face again! Got it?!"

She whimpered a little and nodded, but refused to cry in front of him, as though she could keep some sense of dignity if she didn't.

"Bitch," he huffed in her face, a faint spray of saliva hitting her cheek with a hateful breath.

He released her heartlessly and got up, storming out of her apartment as quickly as he'd struck her. She heard the door slam shut, cutting the last tie left between them. She flinched at the sound, like it hurt, and began to cry. She was finally afraid of him; she didn't have any power left to play. She had lost him, for good this time.

Dick threw on his hood, stepping out onto the street and into the cool night air. The wind had subsided and for the first time in a year, he felt his stomach calm. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder anymore. The bleeding in his chest had finally quelled.

He couldn't change what had happened to him, and he couldn't change what happened in the wake of it all. But he could change who he became as a result of it all. He knew he wouldn't be cured overnight, but he knew, in time, he'd be fine again. He could move on now. He could finally breach the surface and breathe—he could live. And for that, he could find enough strength to embrace the tomorrows and move out of the yesterdays.

The air somehow smelled sweeter—cleaner, even. Like the smoke had lifted, and the fires burned out, no longer hindering his senses. He could see beyond the rubble to a path beyond the ruins. He took a deep breath, taking the cold air in like it was the first time he'd ever done so.

Clarity, he thought, feeling the ground beneath his feet again, the world indeed still there. He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't waiting for some unspeakable thing to pull him into its undertaking. No. For the first time in so long, he was free of her. Free from her hold and presence, and more importantly, free of her memory.

He couldn't taste her anymore.

[linkeai]

where angels fall

fan chengcheng ( nex7 / nine percent ) summary: the angels that fall from the sky are not angels anymore, and so you knew what he was when you found him. you thought you did, anyway. warnings: injury sort of genre: fluff + slight angst word count: 4,673

  There are many variations of the tale of the turtle and the scorpion. Your favorite had always been about the girl and the snake - and it went something like this;

 A young girl walking along a mountain path to her grandmother's house heard a rustle at her feet. Looking down, she saw a snake, but before she could react, the snake spoke to her.

 "I am about to die," he said. "It's too cold for me up here, and I am freezing. There is no food in these mountains, and I am starving. Please put me under your coat and take me with you."

 "No," the girl replied. "I know your kind. You are a rattlesnake. And if I pick you up, you will bite me and your bite is poisonous."

 "No, no," the snake said. "If you help me, you will be my best friend. I will treat you differently."

The young girl sat down on a rock for a moment to rest and think things over. She looked at the beautiful markings on the snake and she had to admit he was the most beautiful snake she had ever seen.

 Suddenly, she said, "I believe you. I will save you. All living things deserve to be treated with kindness."

 She then reached over, put the snake gently under her coat and continued toward her grandmother's house.

 Within a moment, she felt a sharp pain in her side. The snake had bitten her.

 "How could you do this to me?" she cried. "You promised that you would not bite me, and I trusted you!"

 "You knew what I was when you found me,” he hissed as he slithered away.

 Though the story changes, the moral remains the same. Those things that are made of a violent nature cannot change. A snake will always be a snake no matter how genuine or beautiful the snake is, and you should never trust a snake.

 The story of the girl and the snake is the first thing that comes to mind when you find a boy lying face down in your garden.

 It was early in the morning when you had been woken by a crash. The house was still covered in darkness, the earliest signs of dawn peering through the mountains far away.

 You wrapped your blanket around yourself and quickly started down over your stairs, bare feet padding on the wood and creaking with every step you take in the old cottage. Still half asleep, you did not consider what the noise might have been, just that it couldn’t have been a thief because no one would venture as far into nowhere as you lived just to rob your little cottage. You already knew what it was, and it always came at such ungodly hours of the morning.

 You flung open the back door with a mighty squeak of the hinges, flicking on the outdoor light. The air was cold and pinched your skin as well as the insides of your nose. Soft blues painted over the details of your quaint little garden, but what concerned you the most was the young man face down in your vegetables.

 “Oh, dear,” you whispered, hurrying out in the garden and wincing at the dewy grass tickling your toes. The bottom of your blanket dragged behind you only for you to drop it to the ground as you got a little closer.

 The boy was naked from the waist up, pale skin glistening in the morning moonlight. He was shoeless, too, wearing nothing but a tattered pair of brown pants. This didn’t concern you, though. What worried you were the two gaping wounds on his back.

 You froze. You were a firm believer in all things not right and crazy, and, with a face toward the paling blue sky, you knew what he was.

 “Oh, dear,” you said again.

 Kneeling down, your knees pressed into the damp earth beside him. His back rose ever so slightly with his breath, and you thanked your stars that he hadn’t died, yet. Tentatively, you placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him just slightly. The boy let out a mighty groan into the dirt, and you recoiled quickly. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but it was rather clear to you that he wasn’t.

 “Get up, now,” you said softly, pulling on his arm. “Won’t you come inside?”

 Your mind wandered to your childhood home and the stray cats and dogs that would laze around it. Your mother had always scolded you when you tried to approach them with a heart that wanted nothing more than to help. She had always said that you mustn’t feed it, because if you do, it will come back.

 With one of his heavy arms thrown over your shoulder, you dragged the boy inside anyway.

 Once he was settled on your couch in the dark living room, you raced back outside to retrieve your blanket and cursed as you beat the red ants off its now damp surface. Quickly running back inside, you closed the screen door behind you with a cacophonous screech followed by a soft click.

 If you let it in, it will never go away. That’s what they say about demons to children who play with spirit boards. The boy laying half dead on your upholstery was not a demon, however, but an angel. Or rather, he used to be.

 Yes, you knew what he was. You thought you knew what he was when you found him.

 You dampened a cloth and took a seat beside him. He was as pale as the moon, almost glittering in the dim light. You left the lights off so as not to irritate his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you pushed back his damp hair and started wiping the soil from his face with feather-light touches. He was handsome, you noted giddily. Better handsome than not, you supposed.

 When his face was clean, you disposed of the cloth and gently turned him over onto his front on the couch. He groaned in his slumber and you whispered apologies to the sleeping beast as you opened the first aid kit with a click and began to clear the debris from his wounds. He regularly let out sharp whines and you would apologize every time, hoping that somewhere in whatever dream he was in, he would forgive you.

 You finished and did not stitch his wounds. If you did, he would wake up angry and then you would have to cut them out, wasting both thread and time. This, you learned from experience.

 So instead, you curled up in the armchair opposite the couch and prepared to sleep wrapped up in your damp, grass-stained blanket.

 Just as you started to drift off, you heard movement from the couch that had your tired eyes fluttering wide open. These angels, you thought. Always have such bad timing. Well, how can you have good timing if you have no concept of time itself?

 His head had lifted from where it was more or less buried in your itchy, tightly stuffed cushions. Dawn had arrived now, casting her pinks and golds on the details of his confused expression.

 He turned his head to look at you, and you eyed him above the blanket pulled around your nose. Would he be one of the angry ones?

 “Hello,” he greeted. His voice was grungy and thick, so deep that it made your heart stutter in your chest with surprise. Angels voices were usually high, lyrical.

 He sat up with a grunt, facing you with his hands folded in his lap. Raising his eyebrows, he glanced down, seeing his bare skin and made a small sound of surprise. “Sorry. Is this indecent of me?”

 You smiled, letting the blanket pool around your waist. “No,” you reassured him. “It’s quite alright. Would you like some clothes?”

 He nodded slowly, glancing around at your home. “Yes, yes. I think that would be good.”

 You got up and hurried up over your stairs to your bedroom, retrieving one of the man's sweaters you’d bought when you realized half-naked men falling in your garden would become a trend. You took another blanket from the closet on your way back down. He must be so cold, tumbling through the atmosphere like that.

 You came downstairs to see he was still sitting put on the couch with his hands folded politely in his lap, gazing around at the house with his neck craned to look behind him. You smiled fondly, handing him the sweater and setting the blanket down beside him. “Here you are,” you told him. “I thought you might be cold.”

 He gave you a smile that looked as awkward as it did grateful. You didn’t mind - it might have been a while since he’d tried to communicate with a human.

 “I’ve heard of you,” he explained as you helped him wrestle the sweater over his neck and onto his cold skin. It was like putting your hands on a marble statue left out in the rain. “Have you?” You inquired, curiously.

 His head popped out from the neck hole and he nodded as you smoothed his mussed hair with the hand not guiding his arm through the sleeve. “I have. You’re the one who takes in all the fallen angels, right? Your home sits right beneath the departure they get thrown out of.”

 You nodded slowly, withdrawing your hands as he finally wore the sweater. You unfolded the blanket and draped it around his shoulders, pulling it tight in front of his chest. He blinked up at you with innocent eyes, so sweet you almost forgot for a moment what he was.

 “Yes,” you agreed softly. “That’s me. Tea?”

 He nodded, the look on his face showing clearly he wasn’t all that sure what tea was. That was fine. You went, filled the kettle and started it before turning and looking at his eyes staring at you over the back of the couch. How different he was. How peculiar.

 “You haven’t spent much time on earth, have you?” You asked him, setting two floral decorated mugs on the counter. It was still fairly dark in the house, but you could still make out the shadows of sadness on his face at your question. “No,” he answered. “I’m still young.”

 You furrowed your brow. “Yes, I can see that,” you thought aloud. “What’s a young thing look you doing down here, hm?” You tried to keep your tone as light and non-judgemental as you could. Young angels always did have tempers, or so you’d heard. You usually didn’t ask what the punishment was that brought your guests to your house.

 He sighed. “I did something bad.”

 You swallowed, staring out the window at the vast expanse of land that stretched out past your house. “You don’t have to tell me,” you reassured him. “Not if you don’t want too.”

 He said nothing.

 You poured the tea and mixed it extra sweet, walking carefully back to the couch and putting it in his hands. “Careful,” you warned. “It’s hot.”

 He murmured a thank you and brought the mug to his lips, humming when he sipped at it. “This tastes good,” he said, staring into the liquid. You smiled, sipping your own tea and curling up in your chair.

 Things were quiet between the two of you, a human and a fallen angel, for a long time until the boy spoke again. “What is your name?”

 “Y/N,” you responded. “What’s yours?”

 He seemed to think about it for a second before answering, “Chengcheng.”

 You nodded, eyeing him curiously. His skin had a kind of shine to it - so did his eyes. You saw this a lot with angels taking human form instead of inhabiting a vessel. It was what he truly looked like, and while with humans its a given that when you look someone in the face you are seeing their true selves, there is something intimate about seeing an angel in their second truest form.

 “You are very beautiful,” he said suddenly. You looked up from your tea, surprised. His face was void of emotion save a twinkle of kindness in his eyes. Such compliments were casual to an angel, but you felt your face heat up and were embarrassed to see his lips turn up as he listened to your heart pick up its beat. “I think you might be the closest thing to an angel.”

 You murmured a thank you, staring down into your cup. Your guests didn’t usually flirt with you, but you could hardly call it flirting. Especially since he was looking at you so innocently.

 You wanted to tell him he was beautiful, too, but decided not too. He was, though. Black, messy hair falling down over his forehead, big brown eyes and high cheekbones. Angels were usually on the attractive side - they were angels, after all. He was... special.

 You wanted to know what he had done.

 When you finished your tea, you took both of your mugs to the sink and cleaned them. The sun had risen now, and the house was filled with soft yellow light. Chengcheng didn’t look as pale in the sunlight, but he still sparkled as though he was speckled with gold.

 You felt an innermost chill and a trembling in your muscles that let you know it was time for sleep. Your eyes felt heavy and stiff, so you gathered your blanket and turned to Chengcheng. He didn’t have the human knowledge that staring wasn’t very polite, and it was hard not to get spooked by his eyes always seeming to follow you, finding you more interesting than your surroundings. He smiled softly when your eyes met, and you felt bad for leaving him alone. He seemed lonely.

 “I need to get some sleep,” you told him carefully. “Please make yourself at home. You can find something to occupy yourself, can’t you?” He hummed, looking around at the room with a small pout on his lips that made your heart comfortably warm despite the sleepy chill that overcame you. He stood up and walked over to your bookcase, brown eyes scanning the titles on the spines. He chose one with a pink velvet cover - a book about gemstones. He turned to you and showed it to you with a smile. “I will read a book.”

 You smiled, nodded your head. “Okay. Goodnight, Chengcheng. I will be back soon.” He nodded, situating himself back on the couch where there was already a depression from him sitting there so long. “Goodnight, Y/N. Have a good sleep.”

 Your smile grew a little, bobbing your head and turning around to go back upstairs. You fell asleep to the chirping of the birds and the distant sound of Chengcheng reading aloud about emeralds.

 When you woke up, it was noon and the house was warmed by the sun. Birds were still chirping outside and you sighed, coming back to your senses and remembering your new friend downstairs. He must be hungry.

 You quickly got up and got dressed, bare feet padding down over the stairs. Peering down over the rail, you saw Chengcheng’s head was rolled onto the back of the couch, fast asleep. You smiled, creeping past him quietly into the kitchen to make some lunch. The book about gemstones was open on his lap, his hand poised to turn the page. He must have tried to read till he fell asleep.

 You opened all the windows to let the air in and started making lunch; sandwiches and fruits. Angels didn’t like unhealthy food. It was why you grew all your own.

 As you were cutting the peppers for the sandwiches, you heard your name spoken behind you. Startled, the knife slipped and you cut your hand. You let out a yelp of pain, pulling your hand away from the food as the cut reddened and blood bloomed out of it.

 Chengcheng made a small gasp, rushing forward and holding your hand in his. He had just woken up, you supposed from his swollen eyes and messy hair. “I’m so sorry!” He cried. “Here, let me help you.”

 Before you could say another word, he covered your hand in his and closed his eyes. You stood still, staring at his face as a soft golden light shone behind his eyelids and from beneath his hands where your own was encased. After a moment, he exhaled softly and opened his eyes. For a moment, the light didn’t fade and you looked into his eyes - his real eyes. They were pale and shone like liquid gold. The color faded, back to their warm brown and you still stared, even as he looked away and unwrapped his hands from yours.

 You looked down. There was blood, but no wound. He had healed you.

 “Thank you,” you whispered, almost wanting to reach out and grab his hand as his warm touch retreated. He was so warm, so comfortable. “It’s okay,” he said just as quietly, his hands hesitantly falling to his sides. “Sorry for scaring you.”

 You smiled, hesitantly stepping out of his presence and going to the sink to wash your hands. When you turned around, Chengcheng was cutting up the peppers for you.

 After you ate lunch, the day passed as it usually did when you had a guest. He helped you clean the dishes and then helped with your gardening after you showed him how, he read more about gemstones while you read a book opposite him in your armchair, soft music playing in the house.

 You were finding it hard to concentrate on your book, however. Usually, angels that came to your home would simply coexist with you in the house until it was time for them to leave. Like two ships passing in the night that were so dissimilar that they never stepped into the other's path. They never coincided - some would say that they shouldn’t. Angels and humans were two sides of a thick coin. They never saw each other.

 Chengcheng was different. Instead of silence, he would read aloud to you things that he found interesting - like that all almost all rubies had flaws, and rubies without imperfections are exceptionally rare.

 He then told you people are kind of like that - flawed, but still beautiful like rubies. You told him he was beautiful, though you weren’t sure why. When his cheeks burned red and his eyes averted back to his book, you thought this analogy was clever. He was a ruby.

 He wanted to be in your presence; to speak to you, to know you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he already did know you. You thought you knew what he was when you found him - maybe he knew what you were, too.

 He was peculiar indeed.

 There was another thing - most of the time, the angels that came to you left after three days. A week passed of Chengcheng cleaning up, tending the garden and reading books, talking and talking like he never got tired of the sound of his own voice. You didn’t either, really. You didn’t get tired of his dopey smiles and little waves every time you peered over the railing on the stairs in the morning. The look on his face while a little bug crawled over his hand, the way he would compliment you so sweetly, saying everything like it was fact.

 You became afraid of him. You were afraid he would stay too long and you would fall for him. A week turned into a month, and you never asked him why he hadn’t left because you wanted him to stay.

 One night, you were sitting reading your books. A slow vintage song played louder than you usually played it. It was Chengcheng’s favorite.

 “Y/N,” he had said suddenly. “What does it mean to dance?”

 You set your book on your lap, humming thoughtfully. “To dance.,” you repeated. “Stand up, I’ll show you.”

 He smiled, always happy to learn something new. You set your book aside and stood up, gesturing for him to follow you to an open space in the living room right before the bay of windows that looked out into the dusky valley.

 You started the song over and he stood there; tall, accommodating and waiting for instructions. You swallowed nervously, stepping forward and taking his hand in yours. He had quite short, stubby fingers, but your hand was still dwarfed in his. He was a big boy, a fact you were made all too aware of as you stood so close beside him.

 “There are lots of ways to dance,” you started softly, your hands trembling slightly as you moved the hand in yours to settle at the dip of your waist. Chills ran up your spine as he tightened his grip, squeezing slightly. He was always so warm, such a contrast to the freezing boy you’d found face down in your garden.

 You dared not look at his face as you moved his other hand to hold the other side of your waist. His gaze on your face was so heavy it was making your knees wobble. You knew he could hear the frantic beat of your heart, sense your nervousness as you laid your hands on his shoulders. Taking a slow, stuttered breath, you started to sway back and forth to the slow, steady beat of the old song.

 “For a song like this,” you explained with a voice barely above a whisper. “You dance like this.”

 Chengcheng said nothing. You stared at the two constellation-like moles at the base of his throat, too afraid to meet his eyes. He must have known because he squeezed your sides just that much tighter and pulled you so close that there was nowhere to look but up.

 His eyes were dark. Sad, even. Half-lidded and looking at you with something you couldn’t quite name. Well, you could. You could but you were afraid. So afraid that you were holding fistfuls of his old sweater in your hands like they would anchor you to this moment.

 He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands. You were so nervous you swore you were going to cry - he was so close, so close but he still felt so far away.

 After a moment, you stopped staring out the window and slowly turned to look at his face. His gaze was unmoving, always seeking your eyes.

 He almost smiled at you, and you would have smiled back had he not started leaning closer and your breath caught in your throat. He was so close you could see the details of his irises before your eyes fluttered shut. His forehead pressed to the top of yours, tilting your head back. His shaky breath fanned on your neck, and he chuckled as one of his hands slid up your back to settle right where your heart would be, feeling the frantic beat on his palm.

 He gripped your waist like you were fading away, tilting your head further back until, finally, his lips pressed to yours.

 They were warm, sending electric shocks rippling through your veins as he kissed you so slowly it was like he had all the time in the world. Your hands that were white-knuckling his sweater loosened, allowing yourself for a moment to indulge in the thing you knew you had no right to take. A kiss from an angel.

 He parted when he ran out of air, forehead still pressed to yours. His next breath was quick, almost like it pained him. You opened your eyes, staring into his to see that it had pained him. He had agony written all over his face.

 “Chengcheng,” you whispered. “Why are you still here?”

 He closed his eyes, leaning forward as though he would kiss you again and then thinking better of it, pulling away so he could see your face. He still held you impossibly close. He had seen the question coming, of course he had. He was thousands of years old, that being young for an angel and an eternity to you. He saw everything coming.

 “Y/N,” he breathed. He said your name strangely, like he was apologizing.

 “Do you want to know what I did?”

 Your breath caught in your throat again at the question. You did, of course you did. It had plagued your mind like nothing else had this past month. You knew what he was when you found him, but you didn’t know why.

 “Yes.”

 He took a deep breath, fingers splayed along your back. The song had looped a second time, and he still swayed ever so slightly. Not enough to call it dancing.

 “I fell in love with a human,” he told you.

 Your heart sank into your stomach and took the breath from your lungs. A human. Someone else.

 “I was a guardian angel for them,” he explained. “You’re just supposed to do your job. I couldn’t. I fell in love with them.” His voice was thick with emotion - you didn’t want to hear it. God, you didn’t want to hear it, but he needed to say it, so you let him.

 “I watched them every day, their acts of kindness and their gentle nature, their loneliness. They were too beautiful, the closest thing to an angel on earth.” You furrowed your brow at his words. They sounded all too familiar.

 “The other angels found out I loved them. It’s a terrible thing for an angel to do, to fall in love with the human we’re supposed to protect. As if I could ever do anything but hurt them.” You swore he was crying, but you couldn’t see his face.

 “So they cast me out. Sent me falling through the sky without my wings,” he paused, and you heard him swallow. “And I fell in my human’s garden. They took me in, cared for me. I didn’t tell them. Didn’t tell them who I was. I didn’t tell them I’m in love with them.” His tone grew frantic as you froze in his arms, eyes fixed and staring blankly over his shoulder in shock.

 “It was you, Y/N. I love you. I’m sorry.”

 You couldn’t move or find your voice to speak. Tears had sprung to your eyes because God, you had known, hadn’t you? You had known.

 “But you knew that, didn’t you?” He said. He pulled away from your shoulder, held your face in his hands and looked you in the eyes. “You knew what I was when you found me.”

 Yes, you thought. Yes, you had.

 Like the stray cats and dogs who came back for more - they do not always come for the food, some come for the attention. For the love. Of course he had never left.

 “I knew,” you whispered, tears spilling out onto your cheeks.

 “I know,” he said brokenly, thumbing away the tears as they fell. “Thank you.”

 Time seemed to unfreeze. The music playing in the background came back into focus. The hand on your waist and above your heart. Without another thought, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to your level so you could kiss him again. He jolted in surprise, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you back like it was the only thing that mattered anymore.

 “I don’t want to leave,” he said breathlessly when he parted. “I want to stay here, with you.”

 You smiled, dragging your thumb over his soft cheek. “You don’t have to leave. Stay with me.”

 He breathed a laugh, relieved as he held you close to him and pressed his face into your hair. “I love you,” he murmured into your ear. “I love you so much.”

 “I love you too,” you whispered, laying your head on his shoulder. “I knew I would when I found you.”