#I had missed these warm walks so dearly after months of the cold and rain

[mindofserenity]

My favourite type of walks — in nature where I belong

[dongtopus]

when she says "That's so Kafkaesque"

What they think she means "Hee hee hoo hoo bug man"

what she actually means

"And stop walking through all the puddles because you are ruining all the work that young man put into polishing those shoes for you just yesterday morning outside of the court house, and besides, I cannot keep up with you in my long dress in this weather and I simply must ask you. Why must you tell me about the man with the deep, pale blue eyes who has an interest in everything with such vigor and joy, and whome I have myself begun to fall in love with despite you not giving me his name or anything else for that matter besides the fact that his favourite barber is visiting his family in rome this month as his auntie has had a third child, a girl, and they are so happy because the pregnancy was so very arduous over this bitter winter just gone. You simply must tell me of his name and where I can find him, but not because I wish to fall in love fully, but I simply must put a name to a face yet even still you hold such a trifling matter to your breast as though it were the very code to the city bank's greatest vault. I am to be married at the end of spring and I cannot in good concience go to my husband, who I love dearly and truly, for he is such an honest and hard working man with the greenest eyes I have ever seen. They shine like the fresh meadows as the light frost breaks at sunrise and he wears size fifteen boots, he insists that they are always more red than they are brown even though he is colourblind... [Pages missing]... I didn't mean what I said. I take it back fully. I will leave you in peace very soon as the last tram out of town departs in the next quarter-hour and there will be none until after tomorrow as it is Sunday but I really must insist that at the very least you give me this blue eyed man's name so that I may write it in my diary with the lace trim and brass padlock decoration and tear the page out to use as kindling to warm me when I get home, for it is still bitterly cold and it has been raining for four days straight."

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Forget Me Not (11/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 8.3k

Warnings: Angst, language, mentions of sex, alcohol and cheating

A/N: Aaand here it is! This chapter is quite long and heavy, and honestly I’m super nervous about it. As a friendly reminder, this is a work of fiction. Everything written here is simply for the d r a m a :)

Hope you all enjoy!

Part 10

The scene had been all too familiar—your eyes searching for the truth, his expressing sincere regret. Outside, the rain fell as the world around Keanu crumbled, your love for him slowly ripping apart at its delicate seams.

“Please,” you intoned, holding back your tears. “Don’t lie to me, Ke.”

He could do nothing else but revisit the pain you had forgotten, a pain that still burns in his chest. Like a knife cut deep into his heart, the wound continued to bleed, and he wondered when it would stop, if it would ever stop.

Desperately, he wanted it to stop.

Keanu breathed in deeply, then exhaled heavily. Silently, he counted in his head—one, two, three.

And with one last, sorrowful look at you, his lips finally part, beginning the tale...

—four months before the accident;

January was bitterly cold; the air frigid and sharp. It nipped at your fragile skin and froze your bare fingers as you stood out on the balcony, letting the wintery dry breeze blow around you. The weather made you dearly miss the beauty of summer, where everyone and everything seemed much more alive.

It was past midnight in Milan. The city was quiet and peaceful, its cobbled roads were empty, glimmering beneath the streetlights’ pale yellow glow. The view from your hotel was beautiful, and for just a few fleeting moments, you admired the breathtaking sight of it all.

But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully savor it. As you gazed out on the skyline, the ache inside was ever-present, nearly unshakable. You had noticed it during these last several weeks and thought nothing of it at first. Yet, as the days passed by, the feeling only grew stronger, and slowly, you began to understand the reason why.

Sauntering back inside where you were immediately greeted by the comforting warmth of your hotel room, you lowered yourself carefully on the quilted leather couch with your phone already in hand. For a second, your thumb hovered above Keanu’s number displayed on the screen. Hesitating, you then glanced at the clock on the wall and assumed that it’s a reasonable hour where he was to call.

The phone rang and rang. It rang almost endlessly until finally, it halted. A split-second of empty silence filled your ears before a monotonous voice told you to leave a message at the end of the tone. Sighing deeply, a frown creased your face when you realized the call only led to Keanu’s voicemail once again, the third occurrence this week alone.

He doesn’t want to speak with you. He’s avoiding you. He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t love you any—

A half-glass of red wine sat still on top of the mahogany coffee table just within reach. Fingers curling on the glass stem, you downed the rest of the drink in one quick go, hoping that it would calm the thoughts swirling in your head.

But, the alcohol didn’t help quell the storm. Rather, it allowed it to rage on.

In an attempt to soothe, you reasoned that Keanu was merely too busy to answer his phone. It was a bad habit of his—shutting out the rest of the world as he drowns himself in his work. You knew how committed he was when it came to acting, how he wanted to focus most of his time and energy to the role he was bringing to life.

Yet, there was something different about this time. Never in the five years you’ve dated has Keanu gone a day without calling or texting while he was away working. Even if he was bone-tired from a long day of shooting, he would send you a message to ask how your day went. The conversation would be short, but at least you knew he was still thinking of you.

You wondered where it all went wrong. After Christmas, things seemed to go downhill. Work for the two of you was stressful, the atmosphere at home becoming tense. It started out as simple bickering, which later turned into angry arguments. You easily set the other off, picking fights over issues that seemed so trivial now.

Why did it all go wrong?

The question has lingered in the back of your mind for weeks. This wasn’t the first time you two encountered a rough patch in your relationship, but you have never felt so distant from Keanu. It was as if there was always between you and him. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get through him anymore.

You didn’t want to think of it, but you wondered if this was the end. You wondered if the relationship had simply run its course. The love between you and Keanu was close to emptying out, leaving a bitter frustration that had you at each other’s throats. Perhaps you were both tricked into believing that this was something that would last forever, and the past couple of weeks was the universe’s cruel attempt in telling you so.

Or maybe it was your respective careers. Keanu had several projects lined up, and yours was steadily growing. There were many, many days when you barely saw a glimpse of each other at home. You spent more time with your colleagues than together, and the sad truth was, being apart felt better. Any time you were alone in a room with Keanu, it would always end in a shouting match, with you shedding countless tears after.

It hurt. Every waking day, it continued to hurt, and all you could do was swallow the pain, hoping that the dark gray cloud looming over would eventually pass. You couldn’t take it anymore; the stinging remarks, the venomous voices, and the sleepless nights. It was exhausting, yet despite it all, you realized that you still loved Keanu, and you desperately wanted for the relationship to work out.

At that very moment, as you walk back to the tall glass windows overlooking the city, you decided to confront Keanu the next time he’s home. For nearly a month, neither one of you has brought up the fact of how bad things have gotten. You were scared to do it because it meant facing the reality of the situation. What if it was really the end for the two of you? What if it wasn’t meant to be?

The answers frightened you, but as you gazed out at the scenery for a silent moment more, your heart convinced you not to give up so soon. It tried assuring you that this was merely normal, something that happens to even the strongest of couples. You and Keanu had simply lost each other, but you were hopeful that one day, you would find your way back together.

One day.

Your phone remained quiet in your hand, and you couldn’t stop the single tear rolling down your cheek when you caught sight of your lock screen. The smiling photo of you and Keanu displayed was a gentle reminder of fonder times, ones you would forever cherish. You would do anything if it meant having more of those moments with him.

Moments when you were deeply in love and felt the happiest.

The wind blew crisp, cold air that seeped through the slight crack between the balcony doors. You felt it gently sweeping along your skin, causing you to shiver.

Winter was beautiful, so serene, but you yearned for summer to return.

Surely, it will get better when it’s warm again.

—three months before the accident;

A thick, weighted silence hung over the air as Keanu stepped foot inside the house, and it was nearly suffocating. He couldn’t recall the last time he came home expecting you to greet him by the door, either with a smile, a kiss, or both. Those days were a distant memory, faintly glowing in a dark abyss, drifting further and further away from his reach.

He lingered briefly in the middle of the empty foyer, not knowing whether he should head straight upstairs where you would be. It was a long day at the Arch office, and the last thing Keanu wanted was to resume the quarrel that had erupted earlier. He didn’t have the energy to defend himself from something you and he have been fighting about for far too long.

Turning down the hall, Keanu headed to the kitchen, his footsteps heavy as the ache settling in his chest. At this point, he was at a loss. Things between you and him were only getting worse, and he didn’t know what to do. When you had brought up the fact that the two of you were spiraling down, he listened and was willing to fix the problem.

That was until you mentioned his job.

Keanu loved you, of course, but his career was also important to him. Lately, he’s been swamped dealing with his current projects. His hands were full, but instead of you being the support he needed, you had been quite upset with the amount of time he’s working. It ticked Keanu off immensely when you requested that he cut-back on his job. You knew it was almost impossible for him to do so, yet you were adamant about it.

And after Keanu refused, it drove the wedge even farther between the two of you.

He didn’t understand how you and he came to be this way. You were hurting, and he was hurting, too. But it was difficult to compromise when he didn’t want to slow down or take a break, especially not while Keanu had a lot going on. This was part of his life, and he had explained that to you from the very beginning. Five years have passed, and only now did you realize that maybe you couldn’t handle it.

Keanu forgoes turning on the kitchen lights and padded into the slight darkness, making his way to the refrigerator for a glass of water. The phone in his pocket vibrates, but before he could take it out to check who had messaged him, the lights above him switched on, and he quickly glanced behind him to see you standing by the entryway.

“You said you’d be home at seven,” you muttered lowly, arms coming to cross over your front. “It’s ten.”

“I had a lot of things to wrap up before I go back to shooting,” Keanu replied, knowing full-well it was a lie. He had finished at eight o’clock, opting to stay at the office for two more hours because he needed peace, just for a little while longer.

“I can’t believe it. You’ve only been here a week, and you’re leaving again.” The sound of your voice cracking gnawed at his chest, the growing guilt doing just the same. “We live together, and I barely see you.”

The tense silence that fell was unbearable but unfamiliar. Keanu’s gaze shifted downwards, avoiding your tearful eyes, afraid of what would happen if he meets them.

You swallowed thickly, your words laced heavily with despair as you ask, “What happened to us?”

He remained quiet, unsure of where to begin.

“I-I know we’ve been arguing over ridiculous things, mostly. But when I try to fix us, it’s like you don’t even want to meet me halfway,” you explained tautly. “Does our relationship still matter to you?”

Again, quiet.

“Do I still matter to you?”

It was barely above a whisper, but the question rang loud in Keanu’s ears. His features softened as he tilted his head up just the slightest bit, his attention settling on you, the woman he supposedly loves yet pushes away. “Of course, you matter. You mean everything to me.”

With a small shake of your head, you sighed. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” came his swift response.

“Then, why do you avoid me? Why do you choose your work before us? Before me?”

Keanu chuckled mirthlessly, running a hand down his face and blowing out a sharp huff. “I’m not choosing my job over you. I thought we went over this already?”

“Really? Because from what I can remember, the last time we spent time together without bickering was when we visited my parents during the holidays. You were gone soon after that for your movie, and whenever you flew back here for a couple of days, you were off doing other things.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Just ignore all of my responsibilities? And how’s it different from what you do? You were barely at home, too. Now that you’re not busy having drinks with your boss, you suddenly have time for me.”

Keanu had more than certainly struck a nerve there at the end, but by the time he realized what he’d said, it was too late to take it back. He watched as your eyes flashed with anger, shooting him a fiery glare that had him regretting the spiteful words he had thrown at you.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The bitterness dripping from your tone was enough for Keanu to make him step back, distancing himself away from you.

As if you and he weren’t far apart already.

Your question was met with absolute silence, and it only infuriated you even more. “Ke, what are you trying to say? Do you think something’s going on between Nick and me?”

Keanu didn’t answer immediately. It was another thought deep in the back of his mind, which fueled many earlier fights. He’s never been the jealous type, but he’s seen the way Nicholas has looked at you, as well as how he acted whenever you were around. Keanu has never mentioned it because he knew you weren’t capable of doing such a thing, and yet he said it, knowing that it would hurt you.

Because it’s what you two do best as of late—hurt and hurt each other.

“And what if there was, huh? Would it matter anyway? With the way you’re acting, as if you don’t want us to get better, I bet it doesn’t,” you added sharply, the tears you tried so hard to contain now falling. “Can you say something? Anything?”

Shoulders slumping, Keanu looked at you and saw the pain in your weary eyes. It’s beginning to dawn on him that he was the problem. It wasn’t the stress or exhaustion. It wasn’t that he no longer loved you. You were correct, he hasn’t been around for a while, and when he was home, he was more concerned with everything else but you.

“I’m sorry I’m never here,” he whispered, his sorrowful gaze dropping. The realization was overwhelming—he was pushing you away to protect himself from what was bound to happen.

No matter how much he loved you and how happy you were with him, Keanu knew you would grow tired as others have in the past. Despite the years you’ve spent together, the memories shared, and the house you’ve made a home, he believed that one day, this fairytale of a life would cease. No one has stayed with him for that long, and with the amount of heartbreak he’s experienced, it was only a matter of time until you decide to leave.

Leave. God, he didn’t want you to leave. The thought of it made his stomach turn, but after all the arguments you both have had, it wouldn’t be a surprise if one night, you decided to pack up your bags and walk out the door.

“This isn’t the life you signed up for,” Keanu mumbled low under his breath. “I love you, but this job—it’s who I am.”

“No, it’s not.” You slowly approached him, standing close enough for him to hear you exhale deeply. “It’s what you do. Look, take some time off after this movie, and I’ll do the same. We can go on a trip, maybe back to Italy like on my birthday. We’ll forget about work and enjoy ourselves. Just you and me, baby.”

You touched your hand to his cheek, rubbing his scruff with the gentle pad of your thumb. For a moment, he closed his eyes, relishing the tenderness he hasn’t felt in months. He could do what you’ve suggested, back out of a big upcoming project and spend time repairing the cracks in your relationship. Eyes fluttering open, Keanu was met with your soft gaze focusing on him, your finger moving to brush a stray strand of his hair to the side.

But then, he saw it. Staring deeply into your eyes, he could see himself hurting you again. Basing it on past history, this wouldn’t be the last time, and Keanu was sure of it. Things would be good until it isn’t, and the two of you would find yourselves back in this situation. It would be a vicious cycle, one which he couldn’t go through with, especially with you.

“What’s wrong?” You could sense a change in him. The hope that was there one second ago had now disappeared, replaced with something else indescribable.

Disappointment? Despair? Defeat?

“I-I can’t,” Keanu stuttered, ashamed. Your hand dropped from his face, your jaw clenching as you staggered backwards.

“Tell me straight,” you demanded, still holding his gaze. “Do you want to break up?”

Keanu opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Not even a slight utterance of a word. Inwardly, he’s conflicted. Why was it so difficult for him to say no? That’s what he wanted, was it? He loved you, didn’t he?

But you don’t hurt someone you love.

“I-I don’t know.”

You paused for a beat, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand. It was quiet again, and it was driving Keanu mad.

“Y/N,” he murmured your name as softly as he could, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“No,” you choked out before slowly turning around, suppressing your sobs.

Keanu made a choice not to follow you out of the room. He listened to your footsteps tapping away, getting softer as you head up the stairs, closing the bedroom door shut once you were inside.

“Fuck,” he angrily uttered, slamming his fist into the granite kitchen island counter.

As Keanu idly stood there mulling over what had just happened, he was reminded of the text that came in earlier. Quickly, he took his cell out of his pocket and read the message.

Drinks tonight at Barry’s. Are you in?

Without hesitation, he typed out a response and hit send. Drinking with her always helped, and after tonight, Keanu needed a glass or two. Possibly even three, just enough to get his mind off of everything.

Grabbing his keys hanging by the front door, Keanu briefly looked up at the second-floor landing. He wondered if he should go up there and apologize. You were broken by his answer, and knowing that he was the reason behind your tears pained him in his heart.

But before he could move, Keanu already had his hand on the doorknob, twisting it to let himself out. He didn’t want to face what could happen. Not tonight.

So he left, because avoiding the problem instead of facing it seemed like the better option, as always.

For now, you needed to cool off.

It could wait till morning.

—two months before the accident;

“Sweetheart?”

The sound of your mother’s voice caused you to snap out of the daze you were in, and you quickly fixed yourself in front of your vanity mirror. Your eyes were slightly puffy and red from crying, but you didn’t have time to mask it. Still, you mustered up your best, convincing smile as the door to your room carefully swung open.

“Hey, mom,” you greeted as she entered, a frown immediately forming on her lips. “What’s up?”

She sighed sadly before taking a seat on the edge of your bed, hands clasped as her eyes wandered around the room. “I remember when you were a teenager, you would lock yourself in your bedroom for the entire day whenever a boy broke your heart. You thought it’s the end of the world for you, and I’d sit there by your bedside, telling you that it’s not.”

Watching your mom pat the empty space beside her, you followed her wordless request for you to sit on the mattress. “I still don’t understand how you were able to handle all that teenage angst back then,” you quipped lightly. “Every breakup, you were there listening to me through my ugly, overdramatic cries.”

The two of you shared a small laugh, and for the briefest of moments, you forgot the pain.

“I’m glad you were able to fly out here for my birthday,” your mother began, her hand reaching for yours to give it a squeeze. “I thought Keanu was coming?”

You bit your lip at the mention of Keanu, the tears in your eyes already starting to form. You held them back, however. You didn’t want to sour the day.

“He couldn’t make it,” you shrugged, not wanting to explain any further, but the sadness emanating from your voice immediately gave her the impression that there was more to the story. She gave you a look—the one telling you to open up, like how you’ve done in the past with her.

“It’s okay, baby,” she assured softly. “What happened?”

And just like that, you let your walls down. After the night you asked if he wanted to breakup, things had been stagnant. Keanu went out of town again to resume filming two days later, never bringing up the topic before leaving. You haven’t seen him in a month, and to be honest, you didn’t bother contacting him.

“I don’t know what to do, mom,” you wept, and her arms wrapped around you, one hand stroking your hair as you cried into her side. “I still love him. I love him so much that the reason why I haven’t ended things is that I keep imagining that somehow, it’ll get better.”

“Oh, darling. I know it hurts, but if it’s getting too much for you, perhaps the best thing to do is to let go.”

Shaking your head, you managed to calm your unsteady breaths before sitting up. “I thought he was the one. After Eric, Ke was there to pick up the broken pieces. He was the one who made me believe in love again and made me feel worthy of being loved. But now, it’s like he’s not the same man I fell in love with years ago.”

“People change,” your mother stated as she tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear. “To tell you the truth, I’m shocked to hear this. I’ve always thought Keanu was a good guy, the right guy for you. But this is life, Y/N. It’s all about learning and living, and accepting things the way they are, no matter how painful it is.”

You absorbed your words for a minute, only then asking, “If people change, do you think he’ll change back?”

“I can’t answer that question, but what I can tell you is that you’re stronger than you think. The decision will come to you eventually, and even though you’re scared of what could happen, you’ll know in your heart if it’s the right one.”

“I want to think that he’ll change,” you said, sighing. “But maybe we’re just not meant to be.”

Blinking away the tears, you feel like more weight has just been added to your shoulders. You didn’t want to give up on Keanu, yet how much longer of this can you endure?

“Come,” your mother suddenly spoke, changing the subject for now. “The food is ready, and your father is excited to dig into that cake you baked last night.”

“Did you remind him that it’s your birthday and not his?” You chuckled as you stood up.

She smiled fondly, and you found yourself smiling genuinely with her.

“Of course, I did, but you know how he is when it comes to sweets.”

Your mom exited your bedroom, and for a moment, you let the quiet relax you. Fixing your disheveled appearance, you were about to walk out of the door when you stopped, the phone on your nightstand catching your attention. Suddenly, you felt the need to call Keanu, just this once, despite knowing he wouldn’t pick up.

You didn’t give in. Instead, you turned off the lights and headed to the dining room.

You were done hurting for the evening.

But what about for the rest of your life?

—one week before the accident;

Keanu was never a big drinker, yet here he was, downing his fifth shot of whisky that night. He disliked parties; he didn’t care much for the crowds. But now that production has ended, the cast and crew held a big after-party to celebrate, renting out an entire bar with drinks to go around until the last person leaves.

Almost everyone was drunk and on the dance floor by the third hour, leaving Keanu to sulk in peace. He’s back in LA for the meantime but came home to a cold, empty house. You were in San Francisco for work, and he didn’t find out until he read the hastily written note stuck on the console table by the front door.

It was like this now—no words exchanged, no proper conversations, not even a simple “hello” in passing. You were just two lonely and longing souls living under the same roof, waiting for the inevitable end. Keanu was unsure of who would make the first move; both of you seem afraid to quit when you’re hanging onto the very last shredding thread of hope.

This past month, you and Keanu were the newest talk of the town. One of Hollywood’s favorite couples on the verge of splitting to “focus on their respective careers.” Usually, he didn’t pay any attention to the tabloids. They never got the story right. But as the number of reports began to increase, it even left close friends and family asking if it were true. Keanu hasn’t said a word, and as far as he knew, neither have you.

The alcohol washing down his throat didn’t sting anymore, and he wondered if it’s because he’s drank too much in one sitting or he’s that numb inside. It could have been both, Keanu mused, ordering another glass that the poor bartender had no choice but to serve. The room around him started to spin, but at least temporarily, he stopped thinking of you.

Teetering on the edge of oblivion, Keanu nearly missed the calling of his name amid the blaring music. A petite hand came to rest on his shoulder, a light squeeze following it afterwards. He glanced up and was met with a pair of kind, cerulean blue eyes.

Her eyes.

“Want some company?” She queried, and Keanu nodded, gesturing for her to take the stool next to his. “You’re awfully quiet tonight. Not liking the party?”

“Honestly, I’d rather be home,” he simply replied.

Home. Their house wasn’t a home. Not anymore.

“Is it Y/N?”

Keanu exhaled a long breath, drumming his fingers on the counter. She knew most of what went on when he told her while working together in the past few months.

At first, it was a slip of the tongue; he normally didn’t discuss his private life with others. But when it became too overwhelming for him to internalize everything, he had vented to her late one night over a bottle of wine. After that, they had grown close. She had been a good friend throughout the ordeal, the listening ear he needed.

“That obvious, huh?” He snorted, amused. Bleary-eyed, he turned to her, and she shot him a sympathetic smile. “Why are you here? Why not enjoy the party?”

“Well, every time we go out drinking, you always talk about her.” Nonchalantly, she sipped on her martini, batting her eyelashes at him. “And to answer your question, you said you needed company, so here I am.”

Her hand made its way to Keanu’s bicep, and the touch alone sent a kind of warmth that he hasn’t felt in a while. A nervous chuckle escaped his throat, but her hand doesn’t move away. Slowly, she leaned in closer, her scarlet stained lips hovering by his ear. Her voice was low, seductive and Keanu was too drunk to understand what was happening.

“You want to forget about her, right?”

Confusion marred his face, yet he gave her a silent nod. He’s not sober enough to think clearly, but the one surety he has was that tonight, at least for tonight, he didn’t want to feel pain. The alcohol solely wasn’t enough to distract him from it. Perhaps he needed something else.

Something more.

All Keanu wanted to do was forget. His conscious screamed that it’s wrong and that he shouldn’t. But as she kept staring at him with those hungry eyes, her wandering hand shifting to graze up his thigh, he could feel the electricity coursing through his veins.

And suddenly, she was all he could think of.

It’s a mistake. But what’s one more mistake going to do?

She led him down an empty hall, far away from the others. No one noticed them disappear into the back area, making it easier for Keanu to go through with this. Not too long after, they stumbled into the bathroom, lips crashing together in a bruising kiss. He had her pressed up against the door as he locked it, her fingers burying themselves into his hair as their tongues dueled.

Desire ruled over any rational thought as Keanu’s mouth trailed wet, hot kisses down her neck. Her small, nimble fingers reached down to unbuckle his pants, the clinking of metal lost in the soft moans they were letting out.

It felt good; he was feeling good. It was working, and to him, that’s what mattered.

“Keanu, please…”

Keanu stopped abruptly when his name came from her lips. It didn’t sound right to him and hearing it finally knocked back some sense into him. She’s standing in front of him, but all he could see were your eyes and the look of betrayal in them.

“What’s wrong?”

She’s not Y/N.

Pushing himself off of her, he ran his hand over his face, realizing what he had done. “I shouldn’t have.”

She inched closer to him, still panting. “I thought you wanted this, Keanu? I can help make you forget about her. I mean, isn’t that what you wanted me to do these last few months? You’re a good guy, and you deserve to feel good…”

Keanu stepped away, shaking his head. “No, this was a mistake. I-I wasn’t thinking straight. Please, don’t say a word about this to anyone.”

He didn’t even let her respond. He’s too frazzled thinking that he resorted to being the same man who had hurt you years before. Keanu had promised, he swore on his life, that he would never be like your ex. That he would treat you with the love you deserved, and you deserved only the best.

A wave of nausea hit him, and he had to get out of the confining room fast. Shuffling around her, he unlocked the door before taking a second to fix his pants. It turned out to be another mistake made that night because without warning, the entrance to the bathroom swung open, and he froze in fear.

“What the fuck, Keanu?”

Molly stood on the other side, stunned. Keanu recalled that she was friends with the director, who had mentioned in passing how she was invited to the party, too. It was funny how big the entertainment industry was, but at times, it was still such a small world.

Noting his disheveled appearance, it was clear to her what had transpired, and she could not be any more furious. The other woman, Heidi, quickly adjusted her top before hurrying past Keanu, muttering an apology as she made her hasty exit. The door closed behind Molly with a thud, and that’s when he began his plea.

“Please don’t tell Y/N,” Keanu spoke as Molly looked at him in disgust.

“Why? Are you planning to keep this a secret from her?” She was controlling the volume of her voice the best she could. Molly sincerely cared about you, and there was no doubt that she would allow this to slide.

“It’s complicated, Molly. Y/N and I aren’t doing so good and—”

Molly scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “And instead of working it out, you decide to fuck the PA behind her back.”

“It’s not like that. Nothing happened between us,” Keanu tried to explain, but he knew he was wasting his time.

It was still infidelity, the worst sin he could ever commit to her.

Sighing in defeat, Keanu lowered his head in shame. He could only imagine how you would react if you found out. It would break you, rip your heart in half, and for that, it was unforgivable.

He was unforgivable.

“Don’t tell her,” he repeated. “She needs to hear it from me.”

Molly approached him, and he captured the disappointment in her eyes. “I had a feeling that something wrong was going on between you two. I could see it in her face. She hasn’t been herself in a long time, and she’s never mentioned why.”

“I screwed up,” he admitted. “I knew I was going to hurt Y/N. It’s happened in the past, and I began pushing her away, thinking that she would leave eventually.”

“But you don’t want her to leave.”

Keanu lifted his tearful gaze. “I love her.”

“And she loves you,” Molly imparted following a pause, then she began walking towards the door. Before she could leave, she turned her head back to say one last thing. “Do the right thing, Keanu. If you love her that much, you owe it to her to tell the truth.”

Once alone, Keanu let out a breath, shuffling his feet to the bathroom sink where he glared at the reflection in the mirror. He was enraged, not at Molly, nor Heidi, and it wasn’t because he got caught either. The simmering anger was directed at his own self, but it didn’t matter if he took the blame.

He knew then he had already lost you.

—the night of the accident;

Rain.

It usually never rained in Los Angeles, not this much, at least.

Yet, it was beautiful, calming. The skies were shrouded by a sullen shade of grey that darkened as the hour passed to the next. The pitter-patter against the window lulled you into relaxation as you focused on the trickling drops chasing each other down the glass.

For as long as you could remember, you’ve always loved the rain. Even amidst this torrential storm, you managed to find a semblance of serenity in the chaos. Peace was there all the time. You just had to look real hard for it.

Inside, the house was quiet. It has been for days, ever since you came back from a work trip. No arguments, no yelling, nothing. You wondered if this was the turning point you’ve been waiting for. It was the reason why you stayed. In your heart, you still had hope that the pain would stop, and the healing would commence.

Maybe this was it.

This was the part when everything fell back into place.

Hearing the door leading out to the garage open, you set your coffee mug on the table as Keanu walked into the living area, wiping the grease stains off his hands with a small towel. You crossed the room to meet him halfway, and when he noticed you standing in front of him, only then did he look at you.

“How’s the new bike?” You asked, softly smiling at him.

You haven’t smiled at him like that in a while.

Keanu licked his dry lips before replying. “I-It’s good. It rides pretty great, too.”

“It’s been a while since we went on a ride together,” you pointed out, not to make him feel guilty but instead, remind him of the better times.

Times when you and Keanu were blissfully unaware of the hurt ahead.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his chestnut orbs slightly obscured by the locks falling over his face when he bows his head. “Listen, I gotta take care of—”

“Ke,” you interjected him mid-sentence, ignoring the poor excuse he has made up on the spot to leave the room. “I don’t know what happened between us, but I really want to fix this. I have this hope that you don’t want to give up on us because if you didn’t, you would have left me a long time ago.”

A thunderous roar pierced the still air, but it wasn’t as loud as the pounding of your heart in your ears. Letting out a shaky breath, you inched closer as Keanu brought his gaze up, meeting yours. You remembered how much his eyes made you feel safe.

They still do; they still were home to you.

But as you stare into them, you could see the sadness masking their warmth. Keanu flinched when the palm of your hand caressed the side of his cheek, though he soon found himself leaning into your touch. The sensation almost seemed foreign to you both, and you would give anything in the world to change that—to have it all go back to the way it once was.

“I love you, Keanu,” you spoke softly, glossy eyes connected with his. “Please, just tell me what to do to make this better. I promise I won’t get mad at you for being away. I get it, it’s your job, and I should have understood. I’m sorry—I’m sorry for everything.”

You didn’t bother keeping the tears from falling. You didn’t care that you looked like a desperate mess in front of Keanu, but this was you laying your heart out bare. It hurt too much fighting, and you thought it would hurt even more if you left when you couldn’t even begin to imagine doing so.

In a last attempt to convince him, you pressed your lips to him, the first time in a long while. The roof continued to be pelted by the heavy rain as you kissed him, only realizing just a few seconds later that he wasn’t responding. You pulled back, seeing the flooding of sorrow in Keanu’s features. It was alarming, and you had no idea what was going in his mind.

“I-I have to tell you something,” Keanu murmured after a pause. His hand came up to rest behind the back of yours that was cupping his face.

“Whatever it is, it’s okay,” you reassured him, and then you saw it—guilt, shame, and regret. They all flashed in his wistful eyes, and immediately, panic settled in. You dreaded hearing what he had to say.

What else could Keanu have done?

You took a step back when a horrifying thought suddenly makes itself known. A part of you didn’t dare to consider it, but what if?

What if Keanu had done the last thing you expected him to, especially while knowing how it broke you the last time?

“You don’t have to lie to me, Ke,” you trembled out as your chest tightened, making it harder to breathe. You needed to know. No matter how much it would hurt, you had to know. “I-Is there someone else?”

“No.” Keanu’s short reply came quickly, but you could easily tell that he was lying; you knew him that well. The silence erupting proved to him that you had caught him at a lie, and he sighed. “It was just a kiss. I was drunk, hurt, and upset because of what’s been going on. But it was nothing, okay? None of it mattered, and it was a stupid mistake.”

You don’t respond. What was there to say?

This had to be a nightmare. You had to be in a deep sleep, experiencing a god-awful nightmare that you were willing yourself to wake up from.  

But you didn’t.

This was reality. Your reality.

And it was tragic.

“I swear to you, I stopped before anything else could happen.” Keanu continued to explain himself, but you couldn’t focus on his words; none of them were making sense to you, not that you cared in the first place.

You dragged your feet away from him, though you were worried that you would collapse as you moved. You needed to get out and be someplace else because the more you stayed there, the more you felt your soul wilting away.

Why couldn’t you have just let go?

“Y/N…”

“Don’t,” you warned, the stinging tears clouding your vision, a betrayal of your grief. “I-I don’t want to hear it.”

Ignoring what you said, Keanu reached out to put his hand on your shoulder, but you pushed it away. “No, don’t touch me.”

“Baby, just listen to me.”

“Don’t call me that,” you spat out bitterly, your chest heaving with rage. “I’m a fool for thinking that things would be okay when you’re out there sleeping with someone else.”

Keanu shook his head as another roll of thunder crashed in the background. “It was only a kiss, Y/N. That’s it.”

“Fuck, a kiss is still something.”

You sharply turned on your heel and stalked towards the foyer, only stopping when you saw the photo displayed by the bottom of the staircase. It was from the night the two of you first kissed, when you and Keanu were deeply, truly in love.

Removing the frame from its hook, the couple on the image was barely recognizable as their smiles mocked at you, reminding you of the happiness and the love you once had.

If only they knew...

Devastated, you hurled the picture onto the floor. The glass cracked but didn’t shatter, and before you could do the same to the next photo, Keanu was towering over you, his hands holding you firmly by your wrist. You struggled in his grip as you kicked and yelled at him to let you go.

It was too much. Everything was too much. Inside, you feel an aching hollowness, the love that used to be there has now become pain.

Unbearable and excruciating pain.

“Calm down, Y/N, please,” Keanu begged, yet it was no use. “Stop acting like a child, and just listen.”

You managed to break free from his hold, backing away as far as you could until you reached the door. “A child? I’m acting like a child? You’re the one who messed up, and you’re acting as if you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I didn’t sleep—”

“Yeah, you didn’t,” you cut him off, noticing the growing frustration appearing on his face. “What are you going to say? That you’re sorry? Because that’s not enough, Ke.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Keanu scoffed. “I want to talk about this, but you’re being difficult by not giving me a chance.”

“So, now I’m difficult?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then what? Tell me what you meant by that.” You waited for a few beats for Keanu to answer, but before he could answer, you decided you had enough. “Never mind, just leave me alone.”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. How can we work this out if you won’t even hear what I have to say?”

“No, Keanu. I’m done listening. I’ve given you plenty of opportunities to speak up and tell me what’s wrong, but you never did. I wanted to fix this— us— so fucking badly, and… ”

You ceased as your voice broke, and Keanu standing there only affected you even more. You trusted him, you thought that he could never hurt you, you loved—

You don’t know anymore.

“I can’t be here right now,” you muttered, reaching for your car keys simultaneously. You’re not sure of where to go, just that you need to be far away.

Far away from him.

“Fine,” Keanu breathed out as you threw on your shoes. “Leave.”

The coldness in his tone was one you’d never heard before. It was not like Keanu to do this, but how would you know? Your mother’s words echoed in your head as you opened the front door, the loud howl of wind greeting you outside.

People change.

And it was your mistake for thinking that Keanu would change back.

“Do you even love me anymore?” You blurted out the question before you could cross the threshold, glancing back at Keanu with tired eyes.

You waited for what seemed like the longest time, his silence serving enough as confirmation.

It was over.

Wordlessly, you hurried to your car parked in the driveway, not caring that the torrent of rain had drenched you within seconds. Starting the engine, you didn’t expect him to run out of the house in a final attempt to make you stay. All hope was lost, and at this point, you’ve now accepted it.

As you drove further away from the house, the past began to haunt you. From it, you had thought good things didn’t last forever until you met Keanu. Then, you were led to believe that he was the exception.

But you had been wrong.

So damn wrong.

And as you fault yourself for your mistakes, you didn’t notice how much you were speeding until the tires skidded against the wet pavement. Your car spun as you struggled to regain control, but it was too late.

One loud crash and everything went black.

—now;

By the time Keanu had finished explaining, you had distanced yourself away from him. Your tear-stained gaze was unwavering, as if you’re processing every detail, every word. He carefully gauged your reaction, waiting for an explosive outburst or a string of curses.

“Y/N. Baby?” The wooden floor creaked under his weight when he stepped forward, the sound of it snapping you out from a trance-like state. “Can you say something? Please?”

“I can’t… I don’t know.”

You were overwhelmed, and Keanu couldn’t do much nor say anything to be of comfort. His lie had been revealed, and once more, he was breaking your heart all over again. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare say another word,” you choked, forcing Keanu to halt his movements. “You didn’t plan on telling me, did you? You were going to act like it never happened.”

“I was going to tell you, but I was waiting for the right time.”

The excuse was painfully pathetic, and Keanu was already losing the uphill battle. He’s gone through this before, and he could tell that the newly found love you had with him was swiftly vanishing. The resentment was building in front of him, replacing the light that used to be in you. He’s unsure whether he would get to see it again.

“I just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be—when we were happy,” Keanu added, mirroring the hope you had before he took it away.

“No,” you denied sternly. “You tried to paint our lives as perfect when it’s far from it. You saw my amnesia as a way to start over.”

“I know it’s fucked up, but the one thing I’m not lying about is how much I love you, Y/N. Please understand that.”

“Then, why was it so hard for you to say that before? It could have saved us a lot of trouble,” you replied as you marched out of the room, only for Keanu to trail closely behind.

“It was a mistake, but these recent months made me realize that I can’t bear even the thought of losing you. We were so happy together and—”

“But, I’m not the Y/N who was there during those times, Keanu. I wouldn’t know. You’re a stranger to me, and I can’t believe I trusted you so easily just because you showed me pictures of a happy couple.”

Keanu didn’t know what else to say. Every scenario he came up with would end the same way, but it wasn’t too surprising. You and he were broken beyond repair, all thanks to his selfish decisions. If only he had told you the truth from the start. Maybe somehow, it would have fared better for the two of you.

“I-I have to go,” you stammered, and before you could open the front door, Keanu bolted next to you, pressing his hand on the frame to prevent you from walking out. “I can’t do this right now. Please, I just need to get—.”

“No, I’m letting you out there,” he stated worryingly. “I don’t want anything bad happening to you again.”

You wiped a lone tear as you exhaled. “Something bad has already happened, and it’s you, Ke.”

Silence.

You didn’t say more. Instead, you brushed past Keanu and dashed up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door shut behind you. The force rattled the house, and once he realized he was finally alone, the tears Keanu tried his mightiest to keep at bay started to fall. He stood there for what felt like an eternity as he figured out what was next for you both.

But Keanu already knew, however. He just didn’t want to admit it.

The storm outside passed, but the atmosphere inside was far from calm. Exhausted, Keanu was about to head to the guest room upstairs when his gaze settled on the very same picture you had tried to break that night. You had just got around to buying a new frame to replace the old one, and you were excited to have it back on the wall.

Since the accident, you and Keanu had made new happy memories similar to the one photographed. But after all that has been said, tonight would be the only memory you would forever remember him by.

Part 12

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee @ringa-starr @ficsnroses @iworshipkeanureeves @keandrews @greenmanalishi @feminine-machinegun @thehumanistsdiary @lussdew @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @danceoftwowolves @ravenpuff02 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @breakthenight @allie1804-fan​

[youarejesting]

I will wait. (Somesay) Jk x Reader

[Masterlist] Beta: @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Teacher!Reader Words: 2.1k Rating: 13+ Genre: Romance, Slice of life, Angst, Fluff, Idol AU Summary: You grew up with him. Knew him before he became a member of the worlds greatest band of all time. You watched him grow into the man he is today but he drifted away. It’s time to stand your ground because patience was a virtue he taught you well. I got inspiration from this song here: [Somesay - Nea’] 

Some say you will love me one day And I will wait, I will wait to get your loving one day Just say you will love me one day And I will wait, I will wait to get your loving one day

You saw him sitting alone crying, into his Ironman lunch box. Some of the other boys hadn’t wanted to sit with him, because he was too shy and quiet. Holding your lunch box you remember your mother’s words earlier that morning. 

“I packed you some sweets, and I want you to make friends. My girl, can you do that?” “I will try” she smiled at you as she walked you to the gate. 

You sat across from him and he looked up nervous and you blushed, unzipping your lunch box. The two lunch boxes were similar both with Ironman on the front but different pictures and colours. His head didn’t lift from the table but his watery eyes glanced up at you a few hundred times. Holding up the small bag of sweets you opened it and gave a nervous smile. 

“Would you like to be my friend? My mum told me to make friends with these” your voice growing smaller as you spoke “these ones are my favourite, what’s your favourite ones?”

“I like the apples ones” he mumbled looking at the gummies in the bag and you grinned leaning over the table. 

“I don’t really like those ones so you can eat all of them if you want” he gave a toothy grin, the two front teeth looking oddly too big for his face. “I have to go to the bathroom, can you watch my lunch box?’

“I will wait.” He nodded cheeks full of sweets.

“Are you ready? We are going to be late,” Jungkook shouted backstage in the school hall. It was the first year of middle school. You and Jungkook were twelve and you had been friends for a long time now. You held hands everyday on your way to school until someone in class asked if you love each other and you both denied it stating you were just best friends. After that day the two of you never held hands on your walk home. 

“I have to fix my hair” You called frustrated

“I will wait.” He said softly trying to calm you. Once everything was fixed the two of you stepped out onto the stage of your school talent show and you began dancing and singing together.

It was the fifth time you had forgotten to show up for Jungkook, this time he was auditioning for a company or something along those lines. There was so much happening you could barely keep up with his schedule. It wasn’t that you didn’t support him, or that you didn’t care. It was you were going after your own career in teaching. Your career plan wasn’t as fantastical as Jungkook’s but it was yours and you loved it dearly.

You called Jungkook to apologize for not being there for his audition. Telling him you were sorry for missing it but you were in the middle of studying. He said it was okay and that he signed at the company ‘BIGHIT’ you were so excited for him. 

That was at the beginning but when he graduated early he was basically unreachable. Jungkook missed your birthday and you missed his training. He invited you almost every weekend to see the company but you always had conflicting schedules.

Eventually he stopped asking and you both stopped inviting each other to important events and milestones you used to share. No more birthday parties. No more movie nights. No more late night calls or calls in general. 

Every night though he was on your mind, wondering what he was doing and how he was coping with his training. You had only to roll over and you could send him a message or call him but the fear kicked in. Had it been too long? Would it be awkward? Did he move on?

One particular night the rain outside brought with it a cold bitter loneliness. Remembering one of the last times you were together. 

“Just you wait, I am going to become famous and I am going to buy us a house and we will live together, you are my best friend” he grinned down at you finally he was growing into his teeth they didn’t seem so big any more they were now almost a perfect fit.

“You always say that Jungkook but what if I am stuck in university forever, trying to become a teacher, I already had to repeat this class” You were feeling emotional from the stressful school and work life.

And like always he said those three words that you didn’t know if you loved or hated “I will wait.”

You didn’t even have a chance to think about what to send him when you sneezed three times in a row unknowingly hitting the call button.

“Bless you!” That sweet voice you remembered and held dear graced your ears once more. 

“Jungkook?

“Why do you sound surprised? You called me,” He asked.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to, it was an accident while I was sneezing.” You denied perhaps a little too earnestly.

“Oh, I can go if you don’t want to talk.”

“No, I mean I was going to text you first. You know it has been so long. I wanted to ease back into conversation.”

“Come on, I am your best friend, you don’t need to ease back into a conversation with me.” Both of you shared a chuckle at the situation, he was right, you felt comfortable already.

“Yeah, I was being dumb,” you hummed, “I miss you”

“Where are you, you still live at the place near the old cinema?” 

“Yeah, still the same apartment, I am busting my butt for my career and I haven’t even gotten enough to get a better place,” you frowned.

“I bet your students love you” his voice sounded proud. You heard shuffling and he spoke to you the whole time and eventually you heard a knock at your apartment door.

“Let me in!”

“You didn’t?” You reprimanded into the phone, but you couldn’t deny the broad smile on your face.

“I did.” Opening the door there he was, your Jungkook just as you remembered and yet so different. He took a deep breath shrugging out of his raincoat and placing his umbrella down. You both sat on the couch talking and he told you his group planned to debut the next day.

“No matter when or where, call me I will always have time for you Jungkook.” You watched as he walked out the front door ready to leave but stopped midway and turned back looking at his feet as they shuffled back and forth.

“I am under a contract the moment we debut, I can’t date anyone.” He explained the tips of his ears warming.

“I didn’t even think you liked anyone” You admitted slightly confused. 

Heart beating in your chest as he looked up, he grabbed your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours before running off. With a soft. “I will wait.”

Four years passed and you would text or call every month or two. It was the best you could do since you had become a full teacher. You had gotten drunk one night in your empty run down apartment, you called him and drunkenly confessed how much you missed him. He apologized telling you he was on tour overseas and the time difference was different. 

The next day in the afternoon he called you, it was the most soul crushing call of your life. He said he didn’t want you to wait for him, said there were guys out there, better than him. And you told him you were just drunk and being needy and it didn’t mean anything.

Another three years had passed, if you stepped outside, they were everywhere. His face was everywhere, his voice playing from every shop in the mall. You hadn’t spoken much since that day things had been kind of quiet. You had been working hard with your children, teaching them the power of patience and telling them about your best friend who would always tell you he would wait because he knew that eventually things would happen and he would feel happy.

You were contacted by the principal and were asked to join a meeting with a business man asking for his idol group to surprise the kids. Your class had been chosen, the agent didn’t specify, saying “I can’t tell you who will be on the show as it is confidential information”. You were dressed in a cute floral dress.

You stepped out and blushed, they were all handsome, but Jungkook was so different grown up and handsome he was muscular in a lean way. Eyes still as bright as you remembered from the childhood memories you shared, “This is not what I expected?”

“Wah, daebak!” Hoseok said of course you knew all the members names and faces having been secretly following them for a while. They cheered as the children filed in and sat in the left over chairs

“Gwiyeoum,” Taehyung said, “Jimin do you remember when we were in school?”

“We were just like this?” Jimin laughed, noticing the way the student’s ears and neck were heating up.

“I miss my school days,” Seokjin said.

You were shocked at seeing his face again after all this time. “Jungkook?” 

“Y/n!” He shouted back running over and engulfing you in a hug, “You look so professional, it has been so long, Y/n and I have been friends since were were in first grade, she gave me apple gummies”

“I love your music, I particularly like your chaotic, up-beat songs, they make me laugh,” you grinned, “we use your songs when we take breaks in class, and we stretch.”

“Miss please we are embarrassed” The students said making you laugh

“Well you have to show us now,” Hoseok grinned with a laugh as you nodded.

“Alright everyone on your feet” they stood up and you led them through some stretch routines and the kids got embarrassed but soon warmed up shouting.

“Bultaoreune.” Hoseok was so excited, clapping with laughter while jumping up and down and Suga slapped a hand over his mouth in shock.

You were testing BTS and your students against each other to see how their brains stack up against one another, things like capital cities and fun little games. The two sides competed in mini game challenges for hints and handicaps. You spoke with them about random things, letting the kids ask questions and team up with bts members for making a fun project.

“I am curious, you grew up with Jungkook from a young age.” Seokjin asked “What was our golden maknae like?”

“Awkward,” you shrugged, “he had trouble talking with others, actually I still have an old recording of a very young Jungkook singing and dancing in the school talent show. I have it on my phone. It was to an old hip hop song”

“I want to see it,” they all grinned mischievously.

“Hey, aren’t you in that video too dancing and singing alongside me?” Jungkook said and you frowned having forgotten.

“Oh yeah, I can’t show that?” You sat thoughtfully.

“No show us, you both would be so cute,” Hoseok cheered. He really was the mood maker of the group.

“Do you remember the choreography?” Jungkook smirked at your shy nod requesting the producers to play the song. The two of you performed the dance and sang along. You were bright red and everyone laughed.

After that day you two were back in contact like there were no issues. When the run episode had aired it was everywhere that you knew Jungkook and you laid in your bed every night thinking about how much you wanted to call him. Due to certain events, his tour was cancelled but you couldn’t bring yourself to message or call.

Days turned to weeks that turned to months and you got sick of waiting and you sent him a message.

I will wait.

You didn’t think anything of it until you heard a rapid knock at the door which had your heart racing. Pulling the heavy door open to see Jungkook standing there looking older and tired.

You didn’t give him a chance to speak, repeating your promise “I will wait.”

The way he smiled so bright his two front teeth showing flashbacks of your school days. The way he kissed you on his last night of freedom before he was bound to a contract. He gave you a bright grin and nodded once before turning and leaving.

It was all worth it if it meant one day Jungkook could love you.

Just say you'll love me one day.  

If you enjoyed this please share it around for others to enjoy and check my  [Masterlist] for other things beautiful like this.

[anemonenemerosa]

Oops sorry!! I just assumed with oknutzy! Maybe 17 for Wolfstar 🥰

No worries, anon! Since your request was already written by @mooncat457writing (read it, it’s sooo good) and no other prompt of the list was simliar, I thought of a new one and wrote something for you. I hope you ike it!

"The door fell shut behind me while getting the mail. Now I'm stuck outside on a windy October day"

The bright side of locking yourself out 

It was 1 pm when the insistent ringing of the doorbell jerked Sirius out of his dreams. He grumbled for a few moments before his brain caught up and reminded him that he'd ordered a replacement for the broken gear-belt of his motorcycle. And Sirius really needed to get the bike repaired 'cause taking the tube to and from work was just the worst. So, he jumped out of bed and raced to the door of the building – there's no way he's missing the mailperson! Tough luck, Sirius was just in time to see the backlights of the delivery-truck disappear behind a corner.

"God, damnit!" He cursed loudly, mentally just warming up for a full-on rant when a particularly forceful wind-gust shoved half a ton of leaves in Sirius' face and caused an unfortunate bang behind his back.

No. Please no. Slowly, as if keeping off looking might undo what the dreadful noise promised, Sirius turned around, finally staring at the firmly closed door. It is just now that he realised that he's not only stuck outside on a rather unpleasant mid-October day, no, he's stuck outside barefoot, only wearing his pyjama bottoms and a worn shirt. No phone, no keys. It began to rain, no umbrella. What. A. Day.

Just two months ago, Sirius still lived with James and that wouldn't have been much of a problem. Back in the day, James was still writing his final assignment for his degree and stayed at home all the time.But since he graduated, found himself a paying job and moved in with Lily, Sirius lives alone for the very first time in his 25 years on this planet. And while he loved Lily dearly, Sirius couldn't always stop himself from feeling a bit abandoned and lonely, which was ridiculous, of course. Since they got together, James and Lily never let any doubt creep in that Sirius was anything but loved and treasured by both of them.

But the sentiment was of no use just then. In that moment, he needed to find a pragmatic solution. What does one do, trapped outside with no phone, no keys and no shoes? Sirius sighed in resignation. One does walk to the next cafe, beg them to use their phone without coming off as a complete nutter and call James to rescue him.

About five steps from the door, Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, quest forgotten. Walking right up to him was his neighbour from upstairs, the most intriguing person Sirius has ever met, or almost met, seen that they had never talked before.

The guy seemed very unassuming the few times he saw him in the stairway with his knit sweaters and washed out jeans. He was very quiet in the mornings as if he unknowingly considered that Sirius, as a bartender, worked during the nights and really needed his mornings to sleep. During the afternoon however, enjoyable music wafted down through Sirius' open windows together with the delicious smell of freshly cooked food.

The neighbour -Lupin, it said on the mailbox- stared at Sirius with wide eyes for a moment before he stepped closer, holding his umbrella over both of them.

"Erm." The other man said instead of greeting him.

"Please don't ask." Sirius implored him, completely done with this day already. But then again, Lupin had a nice voice.

"Right", Lupin laughed, "You live in the basement, right? Black? I'm going to ask anyway... aren't you cold?"

Not what Sirius expected to be asked. Naturally, his response was eloquent, he was absolutely not caught off guard, "Uhh -yeah, I live here. And- and I'm cold... but I thought you were-"

"-going to ask why you are out here?" Lupin laughed again, a really nice sound, "You clearly locked yourself out. No one goes around in the rain in October like this. Want to come in to mine? Dry off and call someone?"

With that he looked pointedly at Sirius, who took the glance as a clue to have a look at himself. So, summed up, he was drenched, with dirty feet and unkempt hair. Not the first impression he wanted to make on his neighbour. He's a proper adult now. Anyhow, this was by far his best option "That would actually safe my day."

Without another word, Sirius was led upstairs, offered a warm shower and some soft clothes, which were a bit too big for him (Lupin was at least half a head taller than himself). Clean and dry, Sirius sits in Lupin's little kitchen for his next task: calling James, who couldn't leave work for another three hours, meant that Sirius either waited for another four hours or paid 600 pounds for key-service to open his door, which he found out in the next call. He got a string of curses off his chest and was met with an astounded look of Lupin, who had poked his head though the door. Today, Sirius was impressively good at presenting himself at his worst.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, not looking at his generous neighbour.

"Nah it's fine." Said one just shrugged, "What did your friend say?"

"Another four hours or 600 pounds." Sirius supplied, feeling a little miserable.

"Oh, unfortunate. Do you want to wait here? I have some work to do but you can hang out if you want."

"No, thank you. That would be too much" It really would.

"No. Really, it's no bother. I wouldn't offer if it wasn't alright." Lupin waved him off, "I'm Remus, by the way. And before you ask: Yes, Remus like in the Roman mythology"

"Nice to officially meet you, Remus, like in the Roman mythology." Sirius bowed mockingly, "I'm Sirius, and before you ask, yes, like the star and yes, I've probably heard all of the serious-jokes in existence by now."

With introductions out of the way, Sirius was sat on the big and comfortable couch in the living room with a nice cup of milky tea. He had no idea what to do now and felt a bit awkward, but his neighbour seemed unbothered by his surprise-guest.

"Sorry to be such a bad host but I have a bit work to do, I didn't get to do last night. If you like, feel free to take whatever book sparks your interest from the shelves." Remus apologised and put on some quiet music over his phone while settling in a cosy armchair across the couch with a stack of papers on his lap. It was only then, that Sirius realised how good-looking Remus was. His hair, light brown, wavy and a bit shaggy was falling slightly into his bright hazel eyes, focused on the papers in front of him. Suddenly, Remus huffed, scrunched up his slightly crooked nose (dusted with freckles that spread over his cheekbones) and lifted his left hand to his thin-lipped mouth to gnaw at his thumbnail.

"Displeasing literature?" Sirius heard himself asking before he could check the question in his mind for stupidity.

"You have no idea." the other man grumbled, "That one actually wrote that the inhabitants of Egypt are the mummies!"

Sirius couldn't help but bark a laugh at the affronted tone of Remus' voice,

"So, you're teaching history?"

"Yeah." Remus sighed and plucked a red pen from the little table beside him and began vigorously scribbling onto the paper.

The conversation felt to be over for now as Sirius' host seemed, indeed, quite busy. So, Sirius took up the offer to have a look at the bookshelves lining three walls of the room. The carped felt warm and soft under his bare feet while he strolled along the shelves. Quickly he recognised several of his favourites among the countless books and when his eye caught on The Little Prince, he couldn't resist to take it with him back to the couch.

When he was settled again, Remus looked up to see what Sirius had picked and smiled around a soft hum "I've read so many books and this is still one of my favourites."

Sirius couldn't help but smile back. "Mine, too."

From then on, they sat in a far more comfortable silence than before, both engulfed in their literature. Now and then, Remus huffed or snorted and shared some of the more entertaining mishaps of his students. It felt like they've been spending their afternoons together like this for years. Sirius was simultaneously at peace and properly creeped out.

After a while. Remus got up and returned with a fresh cup of tea for both of them. Steeped for exactly long enough, with the perfect amount of milk in it.

"It's wild that I've been living here for a little over two months and we barely even saw each other, isn't it?" Sirius commented, cradling his new cup in his hands while Remus got once again comfortable in his armchair.

"No, not really." The other man supplied with a slightly sad smile, "See, I teach evening classes from around 7 pm to midnight, get home around 1 am and because I'm an absolute night owl, I usually do my grading and preparations right after until 4 or 5 and then sleep 'till noon. And while I thrive in my rhythm, it's a bit hard to meet, or just come across, people... or get to go out for breakfast. It's silly but I love breakfast and until I get up, most places have switched to the lunch-menu already."

What are the chances. "And here I thought that you were so quiet in the mornings because you are psychic and just know that I sleep during that time." Sirius couldn't help the chuckle bubbling up his throat at the puzzled expression of the man across him. "I'm a bartender and work from 8 to 3 in the morning during the week and until 5 on Fridays and Saturdays." He elaborated, "after that I'm often too riled up to go directly to sleep, so I often go to bed around 6 and sleep until 1."

Remus just stared at him. "Our schedules are nearly identical."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply when the sound of the doorbell interrupted them. Remus got up to open the door to a hurried James, who handed Sirius the spare-keys, kissed his cheek and stormed off again.

"So, this was James. Is he your boyfriend, then?" The cosy atmosphere dissolved with the appearance of a wary look on Remus' face.

"Nah. He is my best friend, practically brother. I know, kissing is rather uncommon between two male friends, but we've been doing that since we met fourteen years ago, and I don't give a shit about convention." Sirius explained with a fond smile on his face.

After that, they parted rather quickly as both men needed to get ready for work, but a lot still lingered in the air, unsaid. His shift went over much too slow for Sirius while he brooded over the change in the atmosphere at the end of his stay with his neighbour.

The next day, Sirius woke up with a plan. A potentially humiliating plan, but worth the risk. He got up much quicker than usual, fired up the oven and began preparing. Around 12:30 Sirius knocked at his neighbour's door and was met with a sleepy Remus in pyjamas.

"Hey- erm... good morning! Here are your clothes!" Sirius began far too loud. All he achieved was a furrowed brow on the other man's face.

Get a grip, Black! "Uhh...OK. Listen, I really like you. Would you like to have a breakfast-date with me?" He tried to put on a winning smile while lifting the tray in his hands a bit.

Remus, who had blushed furiously during Sirius' rambling, blinked at him once before a wide grin spread on his face and he stepped aside to let Sirius and the warm croissants in.

[blacknailpolishonguitarstrings]

Forgotten in the rain

The streets were empty and quiet, devoid of life, save for the occasional passing car, rushing and hissing over the wet asphalt. Dark clouds swirled in the gray sky, pouring their sorrows on the desolate city below. Most remained in their homes far away from the endless rivers of water falling from the sky, but not Sirius. No, he most certainly did not despise the grim weather or the rain. On the contrary, he rather enjoyed it, finding it peaceful and almost…serene. He liked to hear the sound of the millions of droplets of water clattering against the windows and cars, sliding down vibrant green leaves, falling on the ground, sinking into the earth and turning it into mush, and disappearing down the drains into the cold metal pipes. It calmed him, washing away the restlessness, pain, and memories, even if it only were for a few short minutes. A light, trembling wind fought his way into his body, past his leather jacket, chilling him to the bones, ruffling his wet hair. But again, he did not mind. A dark green leaf, the colour of Aisha’s eyes, detached itself from a low hanging branch, fluttering briefly in front of his face, before titling down and falling at his feet on the gray cobblestones.

Aisha…she was lovely. A smart, funny, gorgeous woman filled to the brim with joyous life. A temperamental, but kind soul. But it was not the same. Something was still missing inside of him, a small, but important void in his chest, almost as if he had lost something he had never possessed in the first place. And it hurt. He hid it well but it pained him.

He continued walking, immersed in his thoughts and not paying attention to his surroundings. Sirius was so distracted, that he did not notice the pots full of flowers standing on the side of the sidewalk and nearly fell flat forward on his face, as he tripped, knocking them over. White petals flew in the air, and gently settled on the dirty pavement, around withered green stems. Cursing he picked the, up, stepping on one in the process and leaving behind ugly black stains on the squashed flower. They were beyond salvaging.

With a heavy sigh, he entered the little flower shop, water running down his clothes and heavily dripping on the floor. His hair lay in wet black and gray strands on his face and neck, sticking to his skin, and his blue-gray eyes shone bright with curiosity in the dim lighting as he looked around. The place was small and dark, walls covered in crackled navy blue paint, and a couple of dingy light bulbs hung from the bare ceiling, casting their flickering light on the room. Flowers of every shape, colour, and size were cramped in glass vases, broken stems and yellowed leaves were strewn here and there across the floor, and dried bundles of faded pink roses and baby breath flowers hung upside down above the counter, suspended on thin strings.

Sirius stood there, immobile, holding the damaged flowers, at loss, when the green door behind the counter opened, and an old man appeared. He was very tall and slim, dressed in a knitted cream jumper and brown corduroy pants. His hair fell on his face in a mess of graying dark copper curls stricken with white locks, casting shadows over his eyes. He seemed oblivious to Sirius’ presence, nose deep inside a large leather-bound book he cradled tightly with one hand, a steaming red mug of tea in the other. Clearing his throat, the black-haired man walked up to the counter, running a nervous hand through his dripping locks.

“Hello, sorry…I…Uhm,” he stuttered.

The shopkeeper looked up, clever green eyes meeting a confused silvery blue gaze. It was as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over Sirius, filling his bones with fear, chilling every inch of his skin with anxiety. Those brown flecks swimming in pools of emerald, those sun-kissed golden curls, the millions of little freckles peppering pale, once youthful now wrinkled skin, the warm wool of knitted cardigans, the sharp scent of burning hot tea that has just been brewed, the crinkle of rapidly turned pages…he knew all of these things. He was more than familiar with them. It all belonged to Remus John Lupin. It was his Moony. His Moony, who he hadn’t seen in years. Memories washed over him, flicking in his mind like a flipbook, rushing through the years.

The first time he saw the tall, lanky boy with gangly limbs on the Hogwarts Express, the nervousness written all over his face, clear as day, as he sat on the stool, the Sorting Hat heavy on his head and insecurity dancing across his taught features as the name “Gryffindor” resonated in the Great Hall. Sirius remembered the first year, spent in nervous glances and reclusion, the bitterness and resignation when his secret came out, and they found out he was a werewolf.

He remembered Second Year, when Remus’ smiles gradually got brighter and he became more comfortable, yet he still wouldn’t change in front of his friends.

Then came Third Year, and the whole Animagus process, where he finally saw what it was like to turn into a vicious beast once a month, what it was like to tear yourself apart and wake up the next day, just a little more tired and broken than the day before. Fast forward to Fourth Year where his problems with his family truly began, Remus’ constant worried glances, and that cold, dark Christmas Eve of 1974 where he, Sirius Black, appeared at the Potter's barely breathing, beyond hurt and wrecked.

He, of course, never forgot Fifth Year and the stolen, longing stares, the minute he realized he liked boys, and the precise moment he understood that the boy in question was Remus John Lupin, his best friend. He also recalled, with regret and sorrow, the time that he gave away Remus’ condition to Snape; an idiotic, dangerous, so-called prank that near,y cost him one of the most important people in his life.

And then Sixth Year and its tension, the first drunken kiss, the secrets, the lies, and the blissful nights spent at the very top of the Astronomy Tower. Sirius kept the memories of summer 1977 dearly, reminiscing of the sweet warm nights, the bonfires, the day the rest of their friends found out about him and Remus, and the pure joy and happiness of those few weeks.

He remembered Seventh Year and the mounting fear, hanging heavy in the air, the worried whispers, and the empty, saddened stares...all things that perdured even after Hogwarts.

Then came the War, accompanied by mourning and grief, only brightened for a few moments by James’ and Lily’s wedding, and then Harry's birth. A joy that didn't last long, as Sirius’ rapidly deteriorating relationship with Remus finally broke with the death of their best friends and his unjust imprisonment.

He remembered every excruciating full moon of the twelve years spent in Azkaban, every other remaining day blurring into an unintelligible mess, slowly sinking into insanity, with no knowledge of Remus’ whereabouts.

He remembered, without doubt, the first time he saw his godson, Harry, all grown up, looking just like his father, brave and kind, having survived more than he had ought to. And then there was Remus too, looking exhausted and grayed, only a pale, faded shadow of his former self. The next few years were spent between Order missions, confrontations with Death, and the same old, familiar stolen glances. They attempted to rebuild their relationship, yet they never regained that special, magical even, bond.

And after the War, Remus disappeared. At first, they exchanged weekly letters, which then got rarer and rarer, until they stopped coming altogether and for years, Sirius knew nothing of him. Until now.

“Excuse me, sir!” said Remus waving his hand awkwardly in front of his face. “You...wanted something, right?”

The other wizard suddenly shuddered, blinking, as if he had just been roused from a trance.

“Yeah, sorry...I...um...was just, you know...thinking,” he stuttered, blushing.

His former friend raised a sarcastic, amused eyebrow.

“I just wanted to pay for these flowers I sort of...destroyed. By accident of course!” Added Sirius hastily, watching him apprehensively.

“That’s alright, I should have thought to bring them in a while ago already. It’s curious, really, you remind me of someone I used to know a long time ago. His name was Sirius Black. Quite a peculiar name, isn't it?” he replied pensively.

A flare of hope lit up inside Sirius. Maybe, just maybe, he remembered and recognized him.

“Remus?” he asked quietly.

“You know me?”

A look of surprise crossed his face.

“I…,” he hesitated. “No. I thought I knew you but I guess I was wrong. I must have mistaken you for someone else, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s alright, it happens to everyone from time to time,” answered Remus lightly. “Do you want anything else?”

“Maybe white roses, for my girlfriend.”

“Excellent choice! These are my personal favourites” he said, reaching for a bouquet of snowy white roses, with soft petals and lush, dark green leaves.

“I know they are,” thought Sirius bitterly. “You told me in Third Year on a lazy summer day that white roses were your favorite flowers because your mum’s garden was full of them.”

“I’m sure she will love them,” he smiled.

[thattimdrakeguy]

To Forget a Familiar Name (A story, but not a book.)

Please don’t forget, books have their end. We’re only stories to be told briefly, by some in single breaths.

Life’s simple pleasures can only last for so long. The feeling of a cool breeze against your thumb. The even colder months. A sensation, one that made you smile so wide, of a cold and soothing stream running through your toes and sometimes up to your thighs. The simple acknowledgement of a warm, comfortable home with a dog and blanket awaiting you, as your parents yelled cheese. This dog seemed to be a pug. Ironically she seemed quite catty, but she was dearly loved. 

Human-kind depends on these things. That’s something to remember. They make our soul feel weightless and happy, no longer as disgusted or dismayed, as we might’ve been a previous day, but able to feel something glad. That’s what we should always feel. Make another day feel important and grand. 

Life has itself made. Miniature miracles that make it a journey to take around the corner. Never disremember, the footpath that we travel is powerful and our own, no matter if it lags, but even that path shall eventually sag and reach its end as others go on and prosper happy and glad. That we can’t forget. Could take a wrong turn, that’s always a risk, but that decision so long ago isn’t going to return, while we must continue and keep going forward and on. We can’t always sit and wait. We might miss our date. Wouldn’t want to stop so early and alleviate. Pain could end sooner. But continue on, friend, and make the world your oyster.

Inside, in your home, by the fire, as your meal was being prepared in your stove, near your pet for now, with a good book to read, having your favorite drink, your favorite show on, it’s your favorite time to dwell as well. Wasn’t it just so precious, and undeniably swell? This was a comfy domicile and it was yours. Celebrate that and cheer. These are all things we hope to have, but they are simply not for all so equally. Some aren’t as blessed, some never had the feelings or your simple comfort. But don’t you worry, the sand that is our life would be colder without your inner glow. Another passenger to crash because another has no car wouldn’t solve a thing. Take comfort in the fact that inside your home, as you're on the phone, that these are here to stay.

There’s no need to worry about the day where that won’t be the case. It’s here and now, this isn’t future town. It’s the present day, you can feel the sun on your face, no more moles, just a fine glass, and a hand that you can hold. The palm that has texture you can recognize as a friend, or perhaps even more. You might switch it out, go to dine, but it’s that sensational fever, an inner beam, that makes you never feel low. That was the real treat. Did you need anything more?

An empty house, a crooked beam, a chilling wind, no slippers, no shoes, no sandals, look down and it’s only cold feet. When did you get here? Was it quickly? Did you make this decision? You might want to retreat. Until you realize you can’t no more.

The snow is friendly as long as you're warmed up. Make new friends with the space around you. You could use a carrot as a treat, or you could use it as a nose. Along with some rocks that your future kids will soon trot over as the eyes to give this friend some magical life all of it his own. You know it’s not real. It’s only imagination. But wouldn’t it be grand to make it awake? To give it this treat without human stakes? What a dream, what a laugh, it’s a gaffe, but you put that wish to sleep. Not everything was meant to last.

Welcome to spring, your kids are now here. Their cheery smiles, their infectious laughter, they make messes, but you love them like treasure. The eyes you can see on their face, why they’re like yours. You gave them a blessing, you gave them a life, and these ones won’t double as a potential frozen treat. This you can hug, without melting at your feet.

That game you wanted, and wished for, and listed. It’s past its release. No more time to play it. You have to sleep and be rested for bed much like your children. The temperature feels colder, but yet it’s the same. Another day ends, and another starts. Repeats many times, but now it’s like a thump. You feel a lump. Gravity seems to get harsher, and granted seems harder to hold. There’s your son, he’s got something of some sort, yell at him to tell him to wait.

More grass, but this isn’t comfy. This grass is sad, and not so alive. The trees have no leaves. This wind isn’t friendly. It seems like it’s raining, it’s water, but not like the streams. What was warmth like anymore? The sun was out yesterday, and it wasn’t warm then. For some reason the lights even seemed dimmed.

You remember your life for a second, your mother, and boy she was a hugger. Picking you, swinging you around, giving you all the love you could ever wish and desire. Then was your father who loved you as a child, and that sensation even when he left the nation, never felt flat, and certainly not when he came back. Where were they now? They were no longer around. Could they not make it? This didn’t seem fair. Bring me back home, this instant you hear.

Where am I? This isn’t my bed. Who is this in my dreams? I don’t know anyone named Kyle. My face looked like a disgrace. My hair was now gray. My skin looked in the midst of decay. Crying all around me. I didn’t get it. What was so sad? I only woke up a little lost. Which is where they should be going just about now. They were strangers they were. So many light blue outfits behind them. Several long white jackets. This didn’t feel fantastic.

Gravity must be mad, it’s going extra hard. Fuck, never mind this. I want my home again. It’s been too long since I’ve been home again. They cry for me to come back, but fuck them I say. I don’t need this. Certainly not now, and not then. When was then? Oh who gave a fuck. The time is now, and that’s all that mattered. This wasn’t future town.

Where were my friends? What were their names? I do remember that they were around this place. Right beside me. Might as well been right there. But they were the ones that were lost. Where was the familiarity? What was this fate? I remember going on dates, and being fed grapes. This wind is too harsh, I could fall down, but screw these people, this isn’t my town.

Walking’s much harder, and breathing felt like a fight. I just want to see my dog’s face again, my dad, my mate’s, my mother too. Was I so lost that I’m forever gone? I think something looking like my street is only over yonder. Only so many more feet. What grabbed me? I’ve landed harshly and I feel defeat. Must I crawl? How humiliating and all, but I have to get to warmth, I miss it desperately, and how.

Who would even miss me? I hear yelling, but for who? Was that my name? I’m fighting this destiny. All seems blue, even my flesh that was now covered in moles, but I’ve had that before, and I’ll beat it again. The windows into other houses, they look quite right but who were these fellows? No more Frankie, and Bobby, but they still seem almost familiar. Those were the same eyes, but not faces or taste. They were having fine dining, I wish I could join, but my bed and my dog, they were for me. Could I just stop feeling oh so tired, fucking please. My feet felt stabbed, my arms were wasted. Time was eating at me, like I was finally toasted and smoked, about to be served at Thanksgiving.

The doorstep. I finally made it. It smells just right, and this carpet was nice. Whoever picked it out must’ve been a heckuva guy. All these photos around, so many people. Ha. Who ever could they be? There was a TV with a DVD or Blu Ray of my favorite show. Finally here and rested. Now where was my dog and my favorite blanket? That’s what life is. Not feeling sophisticated and cooked like bacon. So hot outside? Or maybe it was cold. Heard something about getting burnt by freeze, maybe that’s what it is. Couldn’t be much after all.

I’m here now in my familiar town. Something amiss, but I didn’t feel like having a fit. This was my chair and that was my favorite drink on the counter. Why does this box of ashes have the name of my favorite mate? The one on four legs and had the funny face. This couldn’t be right. Who’s home was this? I didn’t remember walking in here. This can’t be right. Why is this room so bright?

It’s all I could see. I’m scared. I’m cold. My blood is running so thin. I wanted a hug, just be picked up and flung. To eat picnics while the birds hummed. This couldn’t be right. Those pictures, who were they? What did I look like? My answer already gone as I laid. My memory was defeated, while I lied in my kitchen, or was it the bedroom? Could’ve been the bathroom it all felt so similar. My skin felt rough and sagging. Had I finally gotten old? When did this happen? Somebody, please. I feel like my life is only a disease, and I won’t have it. I lived in a mystery town now. Oh, god, how?

Crying. Not again, only this time it was me. I haven’t cried in years, or maybe just weeks. This was pathetic, I had to get up. What was going on? What was this? My body felt lifted above. But not by hands, nor human help. Everything felt faded. Goodbye. Wait to who? Was that to myself? Please, this can’t be it. I felt so young, had I already been spent? This was it? All those years gone, and done, and this is all that happened, with only seconds remaining? Stranger’s for neighbors, and my known family already retired to the same place where I’ll be retreating?

All this and not even a dog, or a last kiss. My final meal was through a tube. This was so vile. Make it come back, I’m desperate, and pleading. All I feel is nothing but cold and beaten. A soft voice tells me something “Oh god, oh no.” tell me about it. One last touch on my hand. I wish I could speak. I would beg and grovel to my feet. I had to know. Who was this final stranger? The last hand I’ll ever hold onto, and the final voice before my end. 

All too soon, and too dang slow is how it felt. This was my finale, I’ll never be seen again. Should I want it to drag out, or take me out to a quick end? Was this all worth it? Even those simple comforts?

Years, and days and weeks, all the seasons. The smiles from the faces of people already deleted. All in memory, and now mine was gone. That moment forever turned to dust. Experiences, unique, all to our own, never to be talked about, not even in this home. Where was I to go? Would it be kind? Angel kisses and meeting the divine? My life with my dog, and my short-lived kitten, bring them back, please. I need it. I’m bleeding.

No more time for pleading, and time took no breaks. I could smell the breath of a demonic snake. It seemed like smoke, oddly burnt. Could that be my stove? Did I really start baking? The screams I heard, telling those to run. Was this the after-life or my own abode? This is all I caused. My body now rusted and almost roasted. Buried to rubble. My legacy in spades. Was this happening the whole time? I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t have. I’ve gone nuts.

Me and my friends, those old-timey woes. The yarns we told, and bars we traveled to and fro. To feel so small and treated like a kitten in a mother’s arms, or on a father’s chest.

Those all felt so temporary, but this was it. All that to never be known ever again. At least by this body and mind. An artifact left to time. I sighed. I felt like the last of my kind. Pieces of existence decimated and depleted. It all held within me, but now I’m apart and seething. Burning away, and choking on soot.

I could imagine the sight, and those strangers having a fight. To save me or not? Could it be done? I suppose that was my family. What have I done?

Thinking to myself in this long drawn out moment, would one choose to exist, even after the run? I’d had to assume heck no, but who would know? Maybe the challenges we faced, looking down on our dead, living as a fecked up human race that destroyed all around us. We caused so much damage. But it was a part of us. Maybe some more unfortunate would give it a go. I feel bad, cause what a poor fucker if this was much better. Everything was empty like it didn’t matter.

Would those be legends too, for as long as time exists? Our only existence. Or would we too, as humans, begin to truly cease to exist.

Those memories that we become, and represent all that we exist once our bodies are torn, and our souls stop blinking, and we’re let out like a leaking liquid, as we become no more. How long could they travel? One day we’ll all be gone, and in the timeline we’re not even a blimp or a bump on the road. There was a much bigger picture and we exist as a skin cell laid across the page to become one with it, but nothing on our own.

All these inventions, and shows. Those festival lights that we glowed. All such happy times, and no longer remembered? I think I know what hell is, and it gave me my last shiver. How I had that in heat, that answer would never be delivered.

Crashing down around me, all that I knew. I’d be turned to dust with my best fluffy pal. It’d be poetic if not so horrific. That box, if only it could be kept. That’s what I want. For my friend to never be forgotten even if I remained unforgiven. These seconds left, and no breath for me to shout in my despair. All the latest bad memories that had transpired, that’s all that’s left of me. All my accomplishments couldn’t be recovered, they were going with me because of all this trouble.

What could be my last thought? Or what should be my last thought? Would I know my last thoughts? What were my last words? Man, I could barely remember. “Fuck you?” Huh, guess that was believable, and most likely true. If not right, I was to never know. I suppose I deserve that for causing these flames. Was I ever even married? Were they happy when they left? Or are they standing there depressed and angry as they watch this blaze. They’re probably a mess. One that I caused but could no longer fix. That chapter is gone and finally written.

This was so retched, so bastardized and dull. What was this rubbish? My last cough, oh now I feel it. I could see them now, that really shouldn’t be. I felt like I was 15 feet in the air. Guess this really was my defeat.

All I am is memories in their head, like all those that were traveling with me, lonely and minute. Their travels are now done and I’m bringing them with me. Yet I’m not all too elated.

I can see all that was no longer to be, as I go to see what’s going to last as my forever and maybe haven. I hope it’s as precious as they were to me. No laughing or crying, or desperate action. They were all that remained of me, yet I made their life feel like a prison.

Turned out that I had my last thought. It was that I was sorry, a whole lot.

[dianapana]

SasuHina Month 2020- Day 2

Prompt: Your Voice Lingered in These Empty Halls

Mirror, Mirror- Part 2

WARNING:Death

“Hinata-sama it’s time” The maid said in a soft voice. Nobody dared speak to her since the incident, but they do talk about her, she’s heard some rumors but none of them mattered; nothing mattered anymore if she was being honest. Hinata was still looking at herself in the mirror almost expecting the image to disappear.

The maid didn’t call her name again she just subtly opened her door, that’s when Hinata placed the mirror down on her nightstand and rose. Her dress was black, her gloves were black, everything on her was black. The first step was the hardest to do, after it her body functioned on memory alone; it carried her down the empty hallways. The house was deserted; everyone had left already; she was the last to do so. She hadn’t slept in her room the past few days; she couldn’t go to that part of the house; not yet.

It was raining outside; the sky was black with stripes of pure light here and there when the lighting hit. Thunders could be heard everywhere; they were powerful and sounded like they were splitting the world in two, they might as well have. Neji noticed her and came to her side. Everyone from the Hyuga family was there from small children to the elders. The kids were crying, Hinata wasn’t sure if it was because they understood what was going on or if their fear of the storm was the catalyst. Either way the crying was fitting. Hinata had not dared look around, she knew she could not bear the sight. Neji walked her to her seat near Hanabi and her father. Her little sister reached for her hand and held it tight; her father had his head lowered for the first time in many years. The priest started talking but the thunders and the crying drowned him out. They all stood in the rain.

The service ended and everyone got up. The women would return to the house to cook the meal while the men would take the coffins to be buried. Hinata finally looked up and around herself at the hundreds of coffins places in hazard around the hundreds of living. There were small coffins too, ones to place children in. On every coffin was written the name of the person that would sleep there for eternity and a picture of them was frames into the wood.

For every dead Uchiha there was an alive Hyuga. An entire clan had been erased from the face of the earth. Hinata did not follow the women to the house but walked towards a beautiful ebony casket with roses made of white gold around the edges. She ran her fingers over the name. ‘Sasuke Hyuga’. He had changed his name for her. To each side was a smaller version of the same coffin ‘Hikari Hyuga’ was written on one and ‘Daisuke Hyuga’ on the other. Every Uchiha died alongside 3 Hyugas. She was still next to the 3 coffins when men came to pick them up and carry them to the burial site. She had been well aware that’s what would happen but seeing them being taken was too much for her. Hinata wanted to go after them, she wanted to join them. She started screaming but could not move. Neji was holding her in place saying her name louder and louder over the storm.

“Make them stop please” she begged her cousin. “Bring them back to me” her voice was covered by the thunder. “They’re all I have” Hinata was crying for the first time since it happened, she fell apart in the arms of her cousin, at her husband’s funeral, at her children’s funeral and the funeral of all Uchihas.

Neji stood with Hinata there as she cried and mourned the death of the 3 most important people in her life. It was hard trying to picture her happy face from a few days before. After a while Neji picked Hinata up and took her to the part of the house she slept in the past 2 days. After the wedding she and Sasuke moved into the main part but Hinata hadn’t gone back there since the incident. She told them she couldn’t bare see her and Sasuke’s old room; the kids’ room.

Nobody knew what had happened, just that dark heavy smoke was raising from the Uchiha house. Guards rushed over but nobody was alive anymore; most of the buildings were burned to the ground and Hinata was in the middle of the ruins holding the burned corpse of a child, her baby.

That morning Hinata had to attend a meeting with some people from outside the family; she took one of the coaches. Upon hearing that Sasuke said he and kids would ride with her to the Uchiha houses to spend the day with his parents and that when Hinata returned they would all come back home together. Hinata had returned to fire burning, to people dying, to someone screaming her name. She had reached them too late. The Hyugas that found her helped her up and instructed the coachman to take her back home. The following days coffins were made, corpses had to be identified and counted.

Stories started being spread, the Uchiha family was one born out of hellfire and they died in hellfire. The earth had been cleansed of evil, the devils returned to their home in the underworld. People tried naming it everything but what it was, a tragedy.

The funeral ended, they had all been buried, the rest of the buildings still standing were demolished. The land was divided and sold. Other families started building over it. They were all acting as if the Uchihas had never existed. There was almost no proof of their existence anywhere. Hinata held the only real evidence that the family had been indeed real. Her hand mirror was the inspiration behind her husband’s and children’s coffins. Her husband’s name was beautifully written on the back of the mirror together with the Uchiha family symbol.

The world continued moving as she stood still. The title of head of the clan had been returned to Hiashi until further notice because Hinata refused to leave her temporary quarter. Nobody was allowed inside either; she refused to see anyone.

One night when everyone was sleeping Hinata picked up the mirror with such care, it was the only thing that proved the love of her life had been indeed real. On unsteady legs she made her way to the part of the house she had shared with him in the past 10 years. The corridors were dark and empty but she could see him at every corner; he was smirking at her. The corridors were dark and quiet but she could hear him with every step; he was calling her beautiful and telling her ‘Come to me’. Hinata pushed open the door to what was Hikari and Daisuke’s room. The twins were 7 when they died; she could see them playing on the floor then suddenly turning their small innocent faces up at her and grinning. ‘Mommy! Come play with us! We miss you dearly’. She missed them more then they could ever know.

The next door lead to her and Sasuke’s room. The room in which they shared secrets, kisses, love. The bedsheets had not been changed since that day. Hinata made her way to Sasuke’s side of the bed and breathed in his smell. He smelled like home, how she wanted to fall into his strong arms and feel like the world could not hurt her anymore for she was safe.

Hinata placed the mirror on the nightstand and sat herself on the bed looking around the room. The door to the closet was open and her beautiful husband was standing there.

“I miss you dear” she told him; his eyes softened.

“I do too beautiful. We all do” he went into the closet; Hinata heard as he moved things around and finally, he returned to take the stool from her vanity and put it in the closet. Hinata was confused. “Come here love, I’ll show you a way to come to us” he said and extended his hand

Hinata got up from the bed and took her lovers hand. She remembered the first time she met Sasuke. She was a young girl in a white dress swinging in the summer sun. He played with her and promised her the world. They exchanged vows and flower rings under the clouds. “You’re wearing white. This was out wedding” he told her, and she was happy.

Years later the same thing happened. The two of them was swaying on a swing, Sasuke whispered love words to her and she to him; they exchanged real rings than and a real kiss. His hands were warm and familiar on her skin; his lips were soft and addicting. He was everything she could ever want and more.

But then his hand wasn’t warm; it was cold and his eyes were sad. Yet he guided her into the closet and helped her get onto the stool.

“Turn around love; I have a neckless for you” Sasuke said and she followed his instructions. She turned around and allowed her lover to place the heave rope around her neck. He walks around the stool to be face to face with her.

“Jump baby, I’ll catch you” Hinata jumped; the stool fell to the side and Sasuke was not there to catch her.

The following days Hinata didn’t answer when people knocked on her door and her father decided to give her space. A week passed and nobody has seen her. Neji begged his uncle to allow him to enter Hinata’s room without permission from the girl. He was worried Hinata hadn’t eaten in a week, the meals placed outside her door were untouched every night. Hiashi allowed his nephew to check on her but he was to leave immediately if Hinata so demanded. Neji rushed to his cousin’s room only to find it empty. He screamed for the guards to search the house. Hiashi and Hanabi looked everywhere as well.

Hanabi walked to her sister’s old room expecting to find her in the middle of the room crying while hugging Sasuke’s clothing but the room was empty. It looked almost the same. Hanabi noticed a few things were different; the hand mirror Hinata held to her chest whenever Hanabi saw her after the funeral was on the bed, the vanity was missing its stool and the walk-in closet door was closed. ‘Maybe Hinata is indeed crying holding Sasuke’s clothes but on the closet floor’ the girl thought to herself and opened the door.

Neji was still fanatically talking to the guards that were supposed to be outside Hinata’s room the whole week when he heard Hanabi screaming. He followed to sound only to find his little cousin on the floor of Hinata’s old room throwing up. He had been in a rush before; but he wasn’t anymore. He wished to delay the moment as much as possible, he walked as slow as he could muster to the open door of the closet. Neji knew what he’d find. The smell alone was enough indication, taking in consideration how shaken Hanabi was only added to his theory. He looked inside and closed his eyes a second after.

Hinata was hanging from the ceiling, she had been dead for days now and they did not know. “Go to your room Hanabi” his voice was rough and he waited as the girl stood up still crying and ran to her room. Hiashi was walking towards the commotion and bumped on his youngest daughter, he didn’t know at the time but, she was his only child now.

Neji walked into the closet, righted the stool and got up on it to take Hinata down. As Hiashi walked into the room to see the throw-up on the floor and to feel the smell, Neji walked out of the closet with a dead Hinata in his arms. The two men looked at each other for a second, both of them devastated.

“At least she’s with them” Hiashi said in a tight voice. Neji nodded and continued to walk with the corpse of her cousin in his arms. They had another funeral to plan.

Mirror, Mirror- Part 1(Day 1.2)

Mirror Mirror- Part 3(Day 3)

Mirror Mirror-Part 4 (Day 8)

[adolphuslongestaffe]

Please Don’t Stop

Please Don’t Stop (Chapter 1)

It was half a grim joke to himself when he typed in the order. Gallows humor from a man who can’t die and how’s that for irony. Only the joke was on him this time. Rejected by death herself. Spit back out and left stranded in this wasteland, a ruined mockery of what he had been. What he’d thought he had been, anyway. Turns out he was just a fool.

He had awakened blind and disoriented, with the grit of sand between his teeth and jagged rocks digging into his body, cold water lapping his feet, seeping in through his boots. He laid there in a senseless stupor for he doesn’t know how long. Days. Weeks. Time is relative. At long last, with a herculean effort of will, he heaved up his heavy, cold-numbed body and rolled over onto his back.

It was then that he saw it. The chiral rainbow, arcing across the sky above him like a mocking smile. Not death. Not the Beach. Blackness swallowed his vision again. His body racked with rage and agony. He wanted to scream, curse, cry out so loudly she’d be forced to hear him, even across the impassable divide. But all his righteous fury was utterly impotent. His parched throat couldn’t even make a sound.

As his eyes and ears grew accustomed to the material world, he became aware of his surroundings. The debris-strewn bank of an ugly, black river, with huge, glittering dragonflies, darting about overhead like they had some urgent business in hand. Stupid goddamned bugs, what could they have to do that’s so all-fired important? He watched them perforce, until the whirring and buzzing of their ceaseless industry grew to an insupportable din, and irritated him to action.

With a muttered curse on all of insect-kind, he managed to rouse his leaden limbs to the task of dragging himself to his feet. Encouraged by this success, he set about clambering up the steep embankment, almost on all fours, till he reached the crest, where he stood panting for a long moment, as if steeling his will for another effort.

Then he began to walk. He had no idea where he was going, only away from the river and the interminable dragonflies. But gradually, as the mist over his eyes continued to clear, he was able to get a general idea where he was. Some stretch of desert in the Central Region. He knew it well. Pallid sand mottled with blasted, black rocks and split by treacherous crevasses. On the ragged lip of one of these, he came upon the first signs of civilization. Rusted-out cargo containers, abandoned by some porter and left to disintegrate in the timefall. A maudlin comparison to himself arose in his mind and he moved on.

For what felt like a life-age of the earth, he stumbled doggedly along, picking his way over time-gnawed terrain, until the white peaks of the mountain loomed into view, towering on the horizon behind their heavy, grey veil. Now he had his bearings. He turned sharply northeast and pushed on, half dead and more than half out of his mind, until almost by surprise, he found himself in his own home, staring at walls plastered haphazardly with papers and maps. Spiderwebs of crimson threads and photographs of…

In his delirious madness, he had a partly formed idea of tearing them all down and burning them, but his body was strained well past its breaking point. He turned and fell like a rock onto his bare cot, prepared to abandon himself to the black depths of sleep. But the rest he needed so badly seemed determined to evade him. He woke by fits and starts, wandering in and out of consciousness, sometimes panting and drenched in a cold sweat, gripped by terror that he’d been buried alive, sometimes taunted by echoes of voices, sometimes tormented by the tomblike silence.

In one of the fits, he saw Fragile, smiling and holding out her hand to him. As soon as he reached for it, her body began to warp and shrink, crumpling up like dry paper and withering away before his eyes, till only her disembodied face remained, still smiling serenely.

In another, he felt his uncle’s hands taking hold of him and dragging him roughly up from his cot. He made a weak attempt to twist free and escape the rain of blows that was certain to follow, but he didn’t even have the strength to open his eyes, let alone fight back. No blows came. A strong hand held him fast by the back of his neck, like a scruffed dog. Calloused fingers forced his mouth open and some tepid, sickly-sweet liquid was poured down his throat, making him choke and sputter. Then the hand released him and the blackness took him again.

When he emerged to a fragmented wakefulness the next time, the memory of this last fit was still heavy on him. He blinked blearily about, but he was alone, and nothing appeared more amiss than usual. Try as he might, however, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had really been there. He rose on shaky legs and crossed the room to his computer, to call up the security logs. Nothing. It had been one of the fevered hallucinations. Then his strength failed and he fell shivering and chattering into his cot.

Despite its having been a fever dream, the strong impression of that sweet liquid seemed to have had some salutary effect. When he came to, he found his mind clearer and his body less numb. The practical upshot of this turn in his condition primarily being that he was now intensely alive to pain. There was no inch of his battered body that was not aching and sore. He had just begun to muse on the unpleasantness of this sensation, when it was swiftly overwhelmed by a far more immediate and pressing sort of pain.

A deep, gnawing, biting hollowness, right smack in the middle of him. Hunger. Hunger like he had never experienced in his life, not even as a child, when he had been really starving. He rolled onto the floor and crawled to an ammunition container, from which he drew a cylindrical glass canister. Reluctantly, he unscrewed the metal lid, and with a grimace and a shudder, forced himself to swallow several of the canister’s fat, pink little occupants. The hunger pangs eased immediately, and he pulled a drab-green blanket out of the same container and fell into another fevered, uneasy sleep.

He woke again some hours later, skull splitting and hunger clawing at his insides with redoubled savagery. It was all he could do to crawl over and retrieve the canister, containing his few remaining cryptobiotes. Two managed to slip out and waft away toward the ceiling as he devoured the others. He didn’t have the strength to try and get them down, so he laid on the floor glaring up at them as they floated in slow circles, writhing and waggling their idiotic leg nubs.

“Y’goddamn weevils,” he croaked, between labored breaths. “You can’t…stay up there…forever.”

They squeaked blithely and looked immensely stupid.

After a few minutes, the throbbing in his head subsided and he was able to pull himself up to sit in his chair. He was half minded to capture the little shits, but he knew even those disgusting, floating larva wouldn’t help for long. He needed something else. Something to fill the void and warm the cold that was sinking deeper and deeper into the center of his being.

His heart lurched into his throat when the proximity sensors blared a sudden alert. He shook from head to toe, fumbling in his haste to call up the visual feed on his screen. His lip curled in a sneer. Two Bridges porters in white uniforms, with yellow odradek fins spinning like pinwheels over their shoulders. They were carrying cargo, but the tags were addressed to the distro center. Then what the fuck were they doing trespassing?

“…not abandoned, it was linked to the UCA a couple months ago,” one of them was saying, as the two ducked into the shelter entrance.

“Sam Bridges must’ve linked it, then,” the other remarked, taking a swig from his canteen. “He signed all the preppers out here.”

“Looks like he did, yeah. Let’s see. Registered occupants….uh…just one. Mr. Peter Englert. Oh. Missing, presumed deceased or traveling. I guess he won’t mind us waiting out the weather for a little while, then.”

“It’s too bad about Sam. Guy was a hero.”

“Still haven’t found him, huh?”

The other responded with a doleful shake of his head. “They’ve had the whole UCA searching for him for weeks and…nothing.”

“They say he’s dead.”

“Nah, not Sam. I don’t believe it. Hey, look. Timefall let up. We better get moving if we want to make it to the distro center before it starts coming down again.”

With that, they hurried away, heralded by the proximity sensor alert, informing them that weapon restrictions had been lifted. Inside the shelter, the ostensible Mr. Peter Englert sat stunned and listless, staring through his screen into the middle distance, till a sudden wrench in his gut set him panting and shaking afresh.

Still haven’t found him.

They say he’s dead.

Shows what they know. That fucking motherfucker isn’t dead. He can’t be dead. Sam can’t die. He can’t. He wouldn’t.

But…he might decide to disable his cufflinks and fuck off to god knows where without telling anyone. Wouldn’t that be a good joke. And it’d be just like Sam. And what if those Bridges morons had been moving heaven and earth to find him and he just showed up one day and took a delivery. And wouldn’t an order from the dearly departed Mr. Englert be just the thing to smoke him out.

So he ordered a pizza and laughed to himself. A dead, dry laugh that rang hollow even in his own ears. But just the thought of facing Sam again set his teeth on edge and got a flicker of the old fire burning in his frozen veins. Sam was worth fighting. The only man worthy to exchange blows and draw blood with the herald of the apocalypse. He clung to the idea with all his will. Buoyed himself up and sustained himself with it, and began to strategize.

He knew he was in no condition for a fight, but he would be if he could get his hands on a BT. A few of ‘em, if possible. That presented the first problem. Shrieking bastards knew a predator as well as any wild animal, and he doubted he could compel them to come and be devoured in his current state. The closest BT area was the former shopping mall and current crater outside the much larger crater that had been Middle Knot.

Even the smaller crater would be an impossible trek for a man who could barely drag himself out of bed to take a piss, so he had two options. Expend his last lingering bit of energy trying to summon a BT, or wait around for some more hapless porters to wander into his web and shoot them. Couple of voidouts to recharge the ol’ battery and he’d be good as new.

He was inclined toward this second option, but it only presented more problems. All the porters wore cufflinks now, so the deaths would certainly be noticed well before the voidouts. Bridges would send someone, then, and it wouldn’t be Sam. It’d be security men, with shaky gun-hands and soft, city-raised bodies, reeking of fear so strong the stench’d made him sick.

The order, though…that might be enough on its own to bring Bridges people down on his little shelter like a swarm of out-of-shape ants. But no, it wouldn’t. They’d have been down here to toss the place long time since if they’d known who Mr. Peter Englert really was. Sam was the only one who knew and it looked like the asshole had kept his secrets. Or he hadn’t got a chance to tell anyone.

No. Not that. Sam couldn’t be dead. Everyone thought he was dead too, and here he was as alive as…well, as alive as he could be. But if Bridges did know he was alive, at least there’d be some action. Something to wake him up out of this heavy, clinging numbness. Anything. God damn it, Sam, he’d give anything just to—but he swallowed the thought and raked his hand across his face, angrily dashing away tears that weren’t black anymore.

He almost wished he’d shot those porters, come what may. Christ knew he could use the energy now. He thought vaguely about the Demens, then dismissed the idea out of hand. They thought he was dead, too, and that was fine with him. He was as good as dead anyway, as far as this world was concerned. Cut off from his source of power and from the only person he’d stopped to give two shits about in his life. Alone.

Alone.

The word rang in his ears, mocking him as he sat waiting, staring at the screen till his eyes burned and blurred. When keeping himself upright was too great a toll on his decimated strength, he laid down on his cot and shut his eyes, still expecting every moment to hear the little confirmation chirp, notifying him that the order had been accepted.

Alone.

After a few hours, he became anxious and fretful. It was a pizza order with a timed tag. Someone should have taken it by now. Maybe…maybe this was a good sign. Maybe Sam had seen the order and had to travel some distance to retrieve it. He would come. He would. He had to.

Getting up to check the screen over and over again, he expended a degree of effort he could ill afford, and it ran him utterly ragged. At last, his body refused to obey him any longer. He collapsed on the floor and lay there like a dead thing. His mind began to drift in and out of fevered dreams again. Images warped and coalesced before him. Echoes of voices. Hissing whispers that became shrieking, hideous laughter and croaked in his ears.

Alone.

Sam is gone. You are alone. Alone forever.

Alone.

Sam. Amelie. Fragile. The dead captain with his skeleton soldiers. His uncle’s big, rough hands dragging him out of bed to beat him. But somewhere in his deeply submerged consciousness, he felt himself awaken and cry out in something that was not quite terror, but close kin to it. An icy, bracing thrill, that electrified his wandering mind and snapped it to sudden, painful awareness. He choked and sputtered, spitting out sickly-sweet liquid and pushing away the thing that dispensed it, as he tried in vain to twist away.

“Don’t be a fucking asshole,” a voice growled.

A husky voice, with an irritating, high-pitched grate in it. A voice he knew as well as his own. The canteen was forced back into his mouth, and he swallowed the drink obediently until it was taken away. He finally managed to force his heavy eyelids open, then a ghastly smile spread across his pale and wasted face.

“The fuck are you laughing at?” Sam demanded, but with no real heat.

“Sam,” he rasped, tugging petulantly at a loose cargo strap. “Sam.”

“What, Higgs, what?”

“My pizza…better not…be fuckin’ cold.”

Sam let go of Higgs abruptly and he fell back on his cot, which elicited a hoarse, drunken laugh from the god particle.

“You are such an asshole,” Sam said, taking up his icy-cold hands and beginning to chafe them vigorously in his own. “What are you trying to do, get fucking locked up?”

“I’m just tryin’ to get pizza,” Higgs slurred. “I have to eat.”

“No, you have to lay low and stay off the radar. You know you’re the most wanted man in history, right?”

“But I knew…knew you’d come.”

“Of course you fucking knew, I told you I would when I was here before.”

Higgs attempted to open his eyes and failed. “You were here before?”

“Yeah. You don’t remember?”

“Thought I dreamed it.”

“I should’ve figured. You were out of your mind. Said they were gonna bury you alive and begged me not to go. I told you I had to go but I’d come back.”

“And you came back.”

“I said I would.”

“But…why?” Higgs managed to force his eyes open this time, and blinked up at Sam in the dim glow of the safety light.

Sam turned away and moved to stand up, but Higgs arrested his large, rough hands and held them in his pathetically weak grasp.

“Please,” he said haltingly, as if the word were unfamiliar. “Please…don’t stop.”

Sam frowned, hesitating for a moment, then resumed the futile occupation of attempting to coax circulation back into his enemy’s unresponsive limbs. Exhausted as he was, Higgs kept his eerily large, blue eyes tenaciously fixed on Sam, as if he feared he’d vanish the moment he lost sight of him. When they began to droop at last, he gave a jolt and they shot back open, with feverish intensity.

“Sleep,” Sam said, still not meeting his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why are you…why are you doin’ this, Sam?” Higgs asked, almost plaintively. “I killed so many people. Hell, I even killed you a few times. If you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve brought about the real end of the world.”

“I know.”

“So why? I know you said you would, but why’d you come in the first place?”

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but even and clear. “Because one day—it doesn’t matter if it’s a thousand years from now or a hundred thousand—one day, you and I will be the only ones left. And when humanity has finally returned to the dust and the last city has crumbled into ruin, and it’s just you and me, left to wander the earth till the heat-death of the sun, this will all seem like pretty petty shit, won’t it.”

Higgs opened his mouth, but found his voice too choked with emotion to form an answer. Thus, he could do nothing but nod stupidly in response to this perfect, beautiful (as he thought it) speech.

“Good. Then we understand each other,” Sam said, glancing up at him, then away again. “Jesus, you’re so fucking cold. I’ll put up a safehouse in the morning and get you a blood transfusion and a proper hot shower.”

“There’s…materials and all that shit in the fabricator. Take anything you need,” Higgs mumbled drowsily, then his eyes snapped open with an expression of panic as Sam pulled away and stood up. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. I’m taking off some of this gear. I told you to sleep.”

Higgs dutifully shut his eyes, then opened them again and watched as Sam unfastened buckles and unhitched his pack, then stripped off the dark-blue jumpsuit, under which he wore a sleeveless, black compression shirt and black athletic pants. The skin that was exposed was marked all over with bruises of varying age and severity, bordering bizarre, flesh-white handprints, which his observer noted with a pang.

Sam kicked off his boots, then turned and put a knee on the cot, as if he meant to lie down in it, but Higgs gave a palpable start and shied away, wide-eyed and almost panting.

“What are—what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m keeping you warm,” Sam said flatly, rolling him onto his side. “Don’t be a fucking baby about it.”

Higgs gasped as Sam’s astonishingly strong arms encircled his torso like constricting snakes. “But you can’t touch people, you can’t—your aphenphosmphobia!”

“Not a problem anymore,” Sam said with a yawn, holding him fast against his warm, solid body. “Now, will you please shut up? I’m trying to get some sleep.”

[hildorien]

A Rom-Com in Dom-Lomin.

Ataniweek Day Two: Edain. 

I wrote this because Morwen and Hurin deserve a whole lot of love. They aren’t a fairy tale romance, they don’t get a happy ending, but they were deeply in love and deserved a happy ending. Only the best for the true Gomez and Morticia of Arda.   

@ataniweek

A03 LINK (X)

It was no secret who Hurin, son of Galdor, loved more than any jewel in a noldor's private coffers. She was black as night and a true beauty. Sadly, she was colder than ice and had a tongue sharper than the best sword but Hurin only saw his whole universe in her. Even from the age of six, he met her dark brown eyes and that sealed his fate. He had always tried to impress her. 

He climbed trees he shouldn’t have, to impress her.

He picked fights he couldn’t win, for her. 

He wrote a love letter after love letter, each one more dramatic and bad as the last.

Morwen, for her part, had adored him too then and until the end of her days. It was said she regarded him as her first friend in a new and scary land she had to flee to in rags. She did not see pity in his eyes, only the shine of the sun and a mischievous tint and that meant everything to her. After that small act of kindness, it was like God, himself, granted them his blessing to go and be in love. 

They had been together for years, not once did one’s heart wander away from each other. Not even the flowers found during his entrapment in Gondolin could make Hurin wander. When he returned from that place, his brother at his side, the cold rain of north east Beleriand bearing on him, he saw her on the battlement like a spirit of war with only a lantern and a cloak. He made his way through the gate, leaving his brother in the dust and ran to where she stood. 

He smiled, “you waited for me.” 

“You are late.”

“I’ve always been late, my lady,” he laughed stalking closer to her to cup her cold cheek in one hand. “But I hope you can forgive me.” 

In her grey eyes was a fire as she spoke, “make it up to me then, Hurin.” 

He smiled and kissed her, dipping her slightly despite the rain, he felt so warm as her arms wrapped around his neck. Pulling away and gazing on her soft, smug smirk, Hurin realized something. 

He wanted to marry her. 

Now. 

But the words didn’t escape his lips before Morwen started pulling them down the stairs towards her house. 

-

It had been a month since he returned from Gondolin and he still couldn’t find the words. He stalked around his house, his brother giving him tired look. 

“I think if you just asked, she’d say yes.”

“I can’t, everytime I see her, I just freeze.”

“Fearsome Hurin, son of Glador, taken down by the steely gaze of his true love,” Huor mocked as he bit into his apple. “What a horrible things to have bard write about you, utterly pathetic.” 

Hurin smacked him, “I’m being serious and don’t mock me when you can’t even talk with Rian.” 

“She’s just too nice!” He whined out, his words slurred by pieces of apple that flung out of his mouth onto the table. 

“Whatever,” Hurin snorted and sat down, his head in his hands. It was then that a tired Galdor came walking through the door; despite his disposition, he looked amused at his two young sons. 

“I heard your hennish squawking from outside boys. What are you fighting about now?” He asked. 

It was noted that Huor resembled his father more than Hurin did. He was tall like Galdor. Huor often spoke like Galdor, respectful and metaphorically. It was something among the Edain that was labeled as very Elvish; as to hide your feelings behind words and riddles rather than giving a straight answer. Even sometimes as they grew older and older, people mistook Huor for Galdor if he was looked at from the back. Most days this minded Hurin not, he did not mind being smaller than most (even smaller than Morwen), or that he was loud on the border of being too loud, or that he was blessed with his mother’s Haladin features but there were others were he wondered if his father wished the two brothers had been born with Huor as eldest (therefore heir to his legacy ) and him as youngest (the spare). 

“It’s nothing important father, just,” Huor gave him a smug look. “Hurin’s just being a ninny about asking Elfsheen to marry him.” 

He picked up an apple and lobbed it at him. “Don’t call her that she hates it.” 

Galdor laughed, “it’s a complement to her beauty.” 

“She hates it, so I hate it.” 

“Devotion is a good trait to have,” his father said absentmindedly, “but please stop lobbying apples at your brother.”

“I will when he stops being an ass.” 

Huor stuck out his tongue like a child. 

“Then that will be like waiting for the sun to rise in the west.” 

Hurin’s face broke out into a smile while Huor's turned to horror. “Father!” 

Hurin imitated his words in a whiny tone, “One-Almighty! Sometimes you're so pretentious. You never called him father before Gondolin, just say Da, like a normal person.” 

“The Elves in Gondolin call their Da’s ‘father,’” the younger boy mumbled munching on his apple. 

“You aren’t an Elf, Huor,” Hurin rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, enough boys,” Galdor put his foot down. “So you are serious about Morwen?”

“I’ve been serious since I was a babe, Da.” 

Galdor smiled, “that may be true. But have‘ye asked Emeldir yet?”

“Emeldir?” 

“She is Morwen’s keeper, is she not? That bear of a women,” he said with a roll of his eyes almost out of habit, though a friendly and loving lent never left his voice. Galdor and Emeldir butted heads, but it was like Hurin and Huor, a sibling relationship. The strong chieftess of the Beorians had enamoured the settlement of Dom-lomin with her striking inability not to die, not from illness, or grief. She watched over every child she brought with her as if they were her own. No one was more enamoured by her than Hurin’s own mother Hereth. The two were thick as thieves. Hurin imagined it was because Emeldor reminded his mother of the women from her youth in Brethil, who she missed dearly. 

“I have not,” he gulped. 

“I think it would be best if you asked her before you did anything impulsive. You wouldn’t want to upset the bear women of the Beorians by asking the hand of one of her favorite wee ones without even so much as a notice?” 

Hurin could see his body very clearly thrown in a ditch somewhere where no one would find it if he did that. Nodding to his father, he made plans to visit Emeldir in the coming days. 

-

Emeldir’s house was uttermost east of the main village of Dom-Lomin. It was located near the land designated for holy sights where festivals would happen, the highest vantage point of the whole main village. Now it was called the Grey Corner, or the Beorian Quarter since that's where the refugees located themselves. His father had given them full range to live wherever they wished, but they wished to remain almost separate from the rest of them all. Some found it odd, other a little insulting, but Hurin somewhat understood, the best he could. They had lost so much. All they wanted was a place to rebuild and remain Beorians rather than just another section of the people of Marach or Hador. He grew to see as a very Edain way of doing things; coming into a new land and making it yours despite someone else threatening to overcome you and make you them. It was early that morning when he went, the sun had barely came over the peaks of the mountains when he reached the steps of the Beorian’s chieftess' house. It was given the name “white-den” by him and some other children back in Hurin and Morwen’s youth because it was made of white wood and some children had been sure Emeldir had been one of those Bear shape changers. Hurin wasn’t one of them, but if he was going to find out if he was wrong, it would be now. 

Knocking on the large door, he heard a soft “come in!” 

He opened the door, he saw Rian coming down out from the kitchen area. The house was rather dark still, silent. He hoped Morwen wasn’t home. 

“Oh! Rin-rin,” she cooed, her clothes were covered in dirt and she held a hoe in her hand. Hurin gave her a small smile and gave her a small hug. She refused to call him anything less than the name she gave as a babe. “Morwen isn’t home.” 

“Ah,” Hurin smiled, “I am actually here to talk to Elemdir?” 

Rian blinked, and cocked her head to the side, “why?” 

“I needed to ask her a question.” 

“Ah, I see,” Rian smiled, her smile was soft and shiny; utterly polite and coy. It was a ‘princess’ smile, Morwen called it. Sometimes it was hard for Hurin to understand that she came from the same family that produced Morwen and Elemdir. She was more of a flower than the cold rock the rest of her family was. She was somehow still soft, sweet on the eyes and the ears, more interested in singing and dancing than politics. She was a folk tale princess come to life, that is what his brother always said about her. He had always fancied her, respectfully from a distance. The two of them dancing around each other, constructing their perfect folk tale romance.  It all seemed like too much work for Hurin’s take rather than to be not subtle about his feelings and have a constant bedmate. For that reason, she was never Hurin’s type. 

“She’s in the barn. You can go around and see her.” 

“Thanks Rian.” He turned. 

“Oh and Hurin,” she called after him as he walked off. 

“Yes?”

“Don’t let her scare you,” she winked. “She’s all bark and no bite.” 

Hurin laughed. She may have been more a flower than a rock, but she was still a Beorian. 

-

If there was ever a moment that defined who Elemdir was as a women, it was right now, Hurin thought to himself. She was wearing her typical black dress (that she either wore for mourning or she wore to be even more terrifying than she was), her hair was outfitted with beautiful beads and clips, her face was lined with wrinkles and her hair was looking more silver each day and yet she looked like a chieftess, no, a true Queen worthy of the throne. However, it was juxtaposed against the fact that her hands were stuck in the guts of a deer as if she was common hunter. She barely looked at him when she grunted welcome at him at him. 

“Hello Hurin.”

“Hello Chieftess.” He bowed, still, respectfully as his mother had taught him. 

“Why are you here?”

“I have a question for you,” Hurin squirmed. 

She ripped the heart out of the animal, “and that would be?”

“I would like to ask Morwen’s hand in marriage.” 

She threw the heart into a bowl, the blood splattered onto Hurin’s face. There seemed to be a chill in the air the moment the words left him. She looked at him as if examining his very soul, not a single emotion on her face. Hurin frowned. 

“Is you're silence a no ma’am?” 

She raised up a bloody gloved hand. “I have a question for you before I give you my answer.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Do you love her?” 

“More than the sun, moon, and stars. She’s my best friend.” Hurin spoke his cliche words with sincerity. It was the truth, and for that, he was not ashamed. 

Softly a smile appeared on her weathered face, “then the answer from me is yes.” 

Hurin knew he wanted to cry but he kept his face stoney as to not embarrass himself. “Thank you, Chieftess.” 

“I cannot say she will say yes, though,” Emeldir said evenly.

“Even if she does not,” he smiled. “I will have her know she is the only woman who will have my heart.” 

With that he turned to leave, before Emeldir called out for him, so he turned back to her. 

“Your a good man, Hurin. You remind so much of my husband and my son, both of whom are lost to us all now, please,” she pleaded. “Don’t gamble away your life away for stupid reasons and leave my little one heartbroken and weathered like I am.” 

“I will try not to, Chieftess.” That was all he could offer her in these times. 

“That is all I ask you to do.” 

-

It was a rush of happiness since that moment. He tried to ask Morwen to wed him so many times it was almost a joke by now but each and every time they fell short. Every time something was wrong. They were either failures on his part put to get the words out or nature ruined the moment. It just had to be the rainy season when he got his okay from Elemdir. Though sometimes much worse ruined any goodwill and happiness in Hurin. The pyre he stood in front of said it all. 

“The smell of burning flesh is horrible,” Hurin said to himself as he watched his father’s body become ash with the rest of the fallen. He was chief now, and yet he still felt like a child. Too much like a child to lead his people, too much of a child to have lost his father. He felt as if someone had extinguished his flame with ice water and left him to languish in the bitterest winter blizzard. He couldn’t even comfort his mother or brother, he could barely comfort himself. He was being hailed as a hero, but what kind of hero couldn’t save his own family? 

He cursed everything when he lifted his father’s body to the wise women and men to clean his body. He wondered why the One Almighty would take good men like his father away them but keep Morgoth and his monsters around to kill those good men. 

In his anguish, he felt something touch his shoulders. It was fur. 

“Standing here in the cold doesn’t bring them back,” Morwen was stoic as always as she stood next to him. She had left the mob of wailing women still singing funeral songs that had long had the Edain sung when they lost someone too early. Her grey eyes staring into his soul. 

“Fighting didn’t do anything either. Nothing does.” 

“You did what you could.”

“Then why do I feel so cold?” Hurin asked, his voice was rough and mean and he practically barked at her. She didn’t seem very impressed. 

“Because you love so strongly, and you care, and you hate to lose. But loss is a part of our life, Hurin, that’s the fate of mortals like we are. We cannot linger with what we did, what could have been done, the what ifs, we can only keep going. Let the dead be dead, but do not die with them. That is what I have learned.” She it all like it made sense. 

“But I, too, have lost my father, my mother, cousins, aunts, and uncles. I know loss, Hurin. This is a new experience for you, but the pain will always be fresh no matter how many times it happens. He was your father, you are allowed to feel pain, allowed to feel cold, allowed to cry. I never allowed myself to cry, and it only brought more pain. I was in so much pain before I met you Hurin, but you taught me that crying and that the pain I was feeling wasn’t weakness and neither is yours now.” 

“Chiefs shouldn’t cry.” Hurin said weakly, his eyes shadowed and glossy. 

She looked at him, a soft and warm hand went to his cheek. “But Hurin, son of Galdor, should.” 

With only a few words, she had unravel him. He broke down; ugly wet streaks came down his face, he scooped her up in his arms and sobbed. Her arms tangled around him like wisteria on a wall. He slept with her that night, nothing happened, it rarely did these days. They weren’t kids anymore and he was increasingly more busy. Eventually being Chief got easier after a year, the pain dulled, and then after two he was finally starting to get the gist of this thing he was groomed his whole life for. It helped that Morwen was at his side constantly, a beorian through and through her mind was made for this kind of work. She could neogate and organize with the best of them. She was often the logic to his emotions, his blue to his red, often just smarter than him.

One night, they sat together late into the night piecing together Taliska and Sindarin documents and talking about crop rotation under candle light when Morwen paused and stared at Hurin. 

He laughed, “was it something I said about the peas?” 

“I’m tired of waiting, Hurin.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Hurin, will you marry me?” She reached inside her cleavage to pull out a ring. 

His jaw fell open. 

[aweebwrites]

Dark Paradise

((Thanks a million for beta-ing and being amazing @thelucariosfish!))

__________

"Looks like a storm is heading this way." Kai says, looking out from the deck of the Bounty, spotting the dark clouds heading their way. "Should we find a spot out of its way?" Kai asked, looking across at Nya.

"It's too big of a storm for that. We'd waste fuel. We should find somewhere on the ground to dock so we can ride through it." Nya says as she was watching lightning flash behind the clouds.

"Are you sure?" Lloyd spoke up and they looked at him from where he stood on Nya's other side, Cole beside him.

"Yeah. I mean… It was stormy when it happened. Maybe… We can go around the storm this once? For Jay's sake?" Cole asked quietly, and the siblings shared a look.

Nya sighs.

"Cole, it happened almost 5 months ago." Nya says quietly. "I know it has been tougher on him than us but… He has to get over it eventually. Sooner than later. Lingering on the past like this isn't healthy. Look what it's done to him. It's best he learns to move on. Starting with storms." She told them and they sighed, knowing she was right.

"Yeah… I miss the old Jay. The joker, dorky Jay that took screaming as a sport." Cole says, placing a hand on his jaw.

"The Jay that spoke." Lloyd whispered, then gripped the railing tighty.

"Hey. It wasn't your fault.," Kai says, cutting Lloyd off before he could blame himself. "You did everything you could. We all did." He whispered as Nya placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"If I was faster-"

"Lloyd." Cole says and the teary-eyed blond looked up at the taller ninja. "You did everything you could." He says gently, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Lloyd sniffled but nodded, brushing his tears away.

"Come on. Let's go dock the ship." Kai says, walking back to the bridge, the others following him.

He did feel a little guilty for what was to come though.

'Sorry Jay. Zane would want you, want us to move on.'

____________

Thunder rumbled low from the outside, signaling the approaching storm. Jay watched it come from the cabin window, once bright, expressive blue eyes now dull and near lifeless. Out of all places, they chose to dock near the sea. Though he couldn't blame them for that. They didn't know about the morning before he lost it all…

"Zane…" Jay whispered with a grin as he slipped off of his own bed and walking across to look at the Nindroid who was asleep.

He smiled softly at him then grinned mischievously. He lifted the sheets up then climbed in, working his way further and further up. By the time his head popper up on the other side, he found amused sky blue eyes on him.

"Good morning, Jay." He says softly, wrapping his arms around his partner's waist and he grinned widely.

"Good morning…" He says, reaching up to prod at his cheek.

The Nindroid chuckled then pressed a soft kiss to the lightning ninja's lips, Jay immediately melting against him. He smiled against his boyfriend's lips. Mornings like this filled his heart with so much love for him and joy. It reminded him of his mission for the day.

"Let's go for a walk before everyone else wakes up." He whispered with a grin and Zane rose a curious brow but was intrigued enough.

"Alright." He agreed and Jay grinned widely.

The memory already had a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. That morning was the making of the best day of his life.

"It's lovely out." Zane comments as they walked along the beach together, hand in hand and Jay nods, a nervous smile on his face.

Oh boy. Could he really do this? What would he say?

"Are you alright?" Zane asked, tugging him to a stop, concern evident on the Nindroid's face.

"Y-yeah! Great! Why do you ask?! Are you fine?! ‘Cuz I am but if you aren't let me know and I'll-" Zane shut up his nervous rambling with a kiss, pulling back a moment after to look down at him with a warm smile.

"Forgive me. You're always so endearing when you're nervous. I couldn't help myself." Zane says and Jay flushed deeply, his freckles disappearing under the intense red of his cheeks. "Talk to me. What's on your mind?" He asked and Jay looked up at his boyfriend, at the softness of his eyes and smile.

He fell in love all over again. His love gave him the strength and courage he needed to finally start talking.

"Well, I had a speech all planned but I forgot it so here I go on the fly." He says with a shaky laugh and Zane's concerned look returned. "Ok. Before I lose confidence, I want you to know that this past year with you have been amazing. Sure it was a little rough at the start after the whole Overlord and Chen thing but it was worth it to get to right where we are, together." Jay told him, giving his titanium hand a squeeze as the Nindroid's worry turned to awe and affection.

"You see, I love you Zane. A whole lot. With my whole heart and everything I have." He says seriously as the Nindroid tried not to cry, even as clear liquid filled his eyes and Jay smiled, feeling his heart swell impossibly more.

It gave him even more courage to…

"In fact, I love you so much, I wanted to ask you…" He pulled out the circular gold, black and white pendant from his pocket as he slipped down to one knee. "Would you be my Yang?" He asked, presenting him with the Yin Yang pendant, a smile on his face as he watched Zane cover his face with both hands, the blue filling his face acting as a clear sign that his internal temperature has risen and his cooling systems have kicked in.

Man he loved him.

"Jay…" The lightning ninja perked up at his name, albeit a bit nervously.

Zane removed his hands looking down at his boyfriend with softly glowing blue cheeks as the lense cleaner his eyes produced ran over, falling down his cheeks. But despite it all, he looked so happy. It made Jay's heart throb, overflowing with love. He had never been certain about anything but this? Them? He was certain that he wouldn't let what they had slip through his fingers. He watched as Zane parted his lips… Then said yes.

Jay watched as the storm arrived with rain, each drop pelting against the ship like bullets. Zane had kissed him so hard, they were both breathless afterwards. They had never been so happy, wearing their respective pieces. Looking into Zane's eyes as he had then, he knew he wasn't the only one who kept falling in love all over again. They had headed back to tell the others the good news- except they had a mission to attend to. 

Jay slipped out of bed, walking out the door barefoot. He passed by the rest of the team as they all worked together to make a meal, not even batting an eye at them. He walked out on deck, the harsh, icy autumn rain immediately soaking him though. It's been a while since he's been outside. The others don't let him go on missions unless absolutely necessary. Which was fine. He didn't want to do anything. Not without Zane. Shivers traveled up and down his spine as his duller, curly hair flattened, weighed down by the water. Lightning lit up the space around him briefly, allowing him to see just an inch further into the thick fog of rain. He looked towards his left, hearing the sound of the sea over the rain still. Without much thought, he walked in its direction, hopping over the railing to get there. He grunts once he ended up landing on his feet but the impact from the fall had him falling backwards, his back slamming against the ship. His legs gave way and he sat there, trying to recover from his completely spontaneous jump.

He was too cold to feel the pain anyway. He sat there, staring into the fog of night, unflinching against a huge clap of thunder. He got up slowly then walked towards the water, the rain washing the sand off his clothes from the fall but splashed more onto his feet. As he walked aimlessly along the shore, the dreery, cold night flashed in and out, into the soft light of early morning then back to story night as a familiar laugh filled his ears. Jay's tears mixed with the rain as he smiled, Zane’s face haunting him sweetly. That day, he did nothing to help… He… Failed.

Their mission was to stop the Chaos Sisters. They were two women who used their smarts to hack into a few of Cyrus' security droids and steal them, all while creating weapons and tools of mass destruction, just for the satisfaction of the chaos it would bring. Knowing just that made Jay want to insist that Zane stay but he knew he wouldn't, knew he would fight with his all. So instead, Jay stuck close to his side, watching his back as Zane returned the favour. The Nindroids that worked for them were easy to take down. They've done worse. They even managed to pull out some witty quips. It was easy… But then it wasn't.

"Lloyd's found them! He needs- ugh! Backup!" Kai yelled as he took down the yellow-eyed Nindroids swarming him.

"Jay and I will back him up, you three handle the Nindroids!" Zane says as they both took off to the main area of their creepy mountain top base, the rain from the storm pelting them immediately, soaking them through.

They both rushed onto the scene to see Lloyd blocking and dodging the laser fire they were putting him under.

"Ninja go!" They both yelled, rushing over with their Spinjitzu to take them down.

Thunder rumbled over head. It was supposed to be that simple. Take them down, go home and celebrate being engaged. But it hadn't been like that.

Jay gave a soft sigh, his breath coming out as a dull fog between his pale blue lips.

He underestimated them, masters of robotics, next to Borg himself. It was a mistake he paid dearly for.

"No! Zane!" Jay yelled once his boyfriend was swept off his feet with a yell, robotic claws holding him up high overhead.

"Let me- go!" Zane yelled, struggling fruitlessly against the limbs holding him up.

"And where's the fun in that?!" The ravenette sister asked, grinning madly as she held a remote controller in hand.

"Unluckily for you, my sister has been dying to try out her latest invention." The formerly unconscious brunette sister says with a smirk, pushing her rain-slicked hair back from her place leaned against a dented piece of machinery.

Jay wasn't listening. His internal alarm bells were going off wildly, sending his heart pounding a mile a minute.

"Don't worry Zane!" Jay yelled out, charging electricity into his palms as he rushed over, ready to short-circuit the claws holding him prisoner.

"No!" He looked over at Lloyd as he yelled, and everything slowed down in those few seconds.

The blacknette was bringing her hand down to push the button as Lloyd rushed to where she was, her sister cackling from the ground. He brought his head back to where Zane was as he ran still, seeing the odd device behind him, pointed at him. He knew in that moment, it was over. That didn't stop him from trying however. He blasted his lightning at the claws desperately, his lightning traveling quickly to their source- but not fast enough.

She pushed the button and the device behind him glowed white. The last thing he saw was Zane's terrified expression before blinding white. He must have screamed since when he could finally see again, his throat felt raw. That wasn't all that felt raw. Coming to a stop and staring up at the space Zane was, he couldn't help but wonder if this was all a vivid dream. Before he could try to consider that he's been sent to another realm possibly, something blue caught his eye. He numbly walked forward, the closer he got, the more the numbness set in.

Because the closer he got, the more evident it became… That the flickering glowing blue object…

Was Zane's core.

Jay dropped to his knees, his legs too weak to hold him up anymore. He stared at it, as it struggled and flickered…

Before finally going dark.

He didn't know how long he knelt there, staring at the lifeless core of his boyfriend- of his fiancée -his tears mixing with the rain that drenched him. All he knew was that the others were there, could hear their distress as a distant buzz in his mind. He had shakily reached out, gently taking up the dead core and saw the cracks it now carried. It sunk in then and he shook as he sobs, dissolving further and further into hysteria. He hunched over, ignoring the comforting hands of his friends…

Then screamed up into the storm.

Jay looked up silently from his place standing still in the storm, the higher tide allowing the warmth of the sea to lick at his feet. The burn of the rain water in his eyes was a welcoming feeling.

After that, he never spoke again. What's the point? Without Zane… He clenched his pale fist as he gritted his teeth.

Without Zane…

What does anything matter?

He looked down, at the salty water pushing its way up on shore and dragging itself back.

The others, they try to help. They do. Their hearts are in the right place but… They don't understand. 

"It's time you moved on Jay.”

"This isn't healthy."

"Zane would want you to get better."

"You have to learn to let him go.

"He wouldn't want you to be this way."

"The past is the past, and the future is the future."

Jay knew Zane wouldn't want him to be this way. But he's also not here. He… Won't ever be. There's no second chance like with the Overlord. This time, he was gone for good. The knowledge keeps him awake more nights than not. They didn't seem to understand that he knows that and he accepts that but that won't make him stop loving Zane. He owns his heart and that will never change. Loving him forever can't be wrong. Even though he isn't here with him anymore, he refuses to move on. There's nothing to move onto. There's nothing else waiting for him.

Waiting… 

He looked ahead again, taking a step forward- only to collapse against the sand with a grunt of pain. He looked back at his throbbing ankle then noticed that it was turning purple as it remained swollen, most likely from the fall. The warm sea water lapping at him made him shiver but briefly.

Sometimes, he ponders the reason he's continuing on. Why bother? More days than not, continuing on didn't seem worth it. But then he'd think of Zane, of how sad he'd be if he'd done anything like that… His eyelids drooped heavily.

Move on. Let go.

He can't.

He doesn't want to.

 “Jay?!”

Right now, he just wants to sleep.

He heard multiple footsteps approaching as he drifted off, water lapping at the back of his head.

__________

"Jay."

Huh?

"Come on Jay. Open your eyes…"

That voice… It sounds so familiar…

"For me?"

He fluttered his eyes open, wincing against the bright light of the sky.

"So bright…" Jay groaned and Zane laughed lightly.

"It always is here." He says then helped him sit up.

Jay blinked at Zane as he sat there, smiling patiently at him. His eyes widened before he grasped Zane's cheeks with wide eyes, looking him over.

"Z-Zane?!" He sputtered and the Nindroid smiled.

"Yeah. It's me." He says, reaching up to rest his metallic hands over Jay's.

Tears filled Jay's eyes as he looked at him, looking exactly as he remembered: happy. The tears skipped down his cheeks as reality continued to settle into him.

"You're just a dream, aren't you? I'll wake up again and you'll be gone…" He whispered, voice wavering as he looked away.

"Oh Jay..." Zane whispered softly, reaching out to turn his face to him. "I'm no dream but I won't be there when you wake up." He says, brushing his tears away gently.

"I had asked for the chance to talk to you before you do." He continued softly, Jay sniffling but he was listening. "I would have never left you if I had a choice. I love you more than anything, remember?" He reminded him and Jay found himself nodding as he sat in the middle of the open field of green, golden flowers littered around them.

They've never been here before. This was… Different from his dreams. He could feel it.

"I love you too. More than anything." Jay whispered, shifting to his knees do he could press their foreheads together.

"Oh, I've missed you…" Zane choked out, cupping his cheeks still. "But I don't have much time." He sniffled, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Why not? Why can't I just stay here with you?" Jay asked softly, brushing his hand against his cheek, his heart warming for the first time in a very long time.

"Jay, you can't. As much as I want us to be us again, you can't." Zane looked up at Jay, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Ninjago needs you, Jay. Our friends do. Your parents do. You have so much more to live for." He whispered and Jay though back to his parents, he recalled visiting once in a while, but not much more.

He's been that out of it... 

"Jay. It may be awhile before we can be together again but that's alright. It'll be worth it. I'll wait for you. Even if you do move on to someone else, I'll-"

"Never." Jay immediately declined. "Never anyone else. I can do anything else but let you go." He declares and Zane smiled, more tears slipping past his cheeks, landing on his yang piece from their engagement.

"Alright," he nods then takes Jay’s hands. "But I need you to do something for me, Jay, before you go back for good." He requested and Jay frowned, even though he was nodding.

"Yeah, of course but can't I stay a little longer? I mean, it's been so long a-and I just got you back and I don't- I can't- I need you to stay! Just for a little while? Please? Zane, I-"

Zane pressing a kiss to his lips, cutting off his panicking rant. He wanted this to last a little longer too but he needed him to keep going...

To live.

__________

Jay jolted straight up, a cool taste on his lips and a cry of Zane's name on his tongue. He looked around, panting a bit before he slouched, gripping the covers over his lap tightly.

Zane…

The sheets darkened with each drop of his tears that rolled hotly down his pale face, his teeth gritted tightly. Again. Again he lost him. Again he was out of reach. It felt so real, touching him, his lips even felt the same as he remembered… It had to be. He lifted his head, realising something. Lloyd described a place to him once, a place from his dreams. He had no doubt it was the same place he was just at.

The Departed Realm. 

Zane was there. He was happy…

And he was waiting.

Even more tears rolled down Jay's cheeks as he recalled the whole scene, his brief moment with Zane opening his eyes… And reopening his heart. He gave a watery huff of amazement...

But he smiled.

Thank you Zane…

The door to the cabin opened and he looked across to see Cole walking in.

"Oh, you're awake! I knew I heard something." He says with a relieved smile. "We're sorry. We should have tried to get out of the storm's path. We just thought this would be a good time for you to start to move past things and-" Cole shut up realising that he was rambling.

"A-Anyways. How are you feeling?" He asked Jay, noticing his face was still as pale as when they found him in the storm.

He face palms, forgetting Jay was now mute.

"I-"

"Good." Cole did a double take at the quiet, underused voice. "Really good." Jay continues, a smile on his face, completely throwing Cole.

Was he delirious with sickness? Was he the one who was delirious? He hasn't seen Jay smile or even hear him speak since before Zane passed!

"O-oh. That's um… Great! Let me just… Get Sensei real quick." He says then all but dashed out.

Jay huffed then looked up at the roof.

"I'll miss you. That won't change. But I'll keep going for those who need me to… For me." He says softly then smiled. "Hey Zane. Whadoyah say we get married as soon as I get there? When Destiny decides it of course." He asked, fiddling with his half of his pendent around his neck he never took off.

Realms away, Zane smiled, stroking his own half as he looked down into the golden pond, seeing him, hearing him.

"I'd say…" He smiled wider.

"I do."

_____________

(My peeps these past couple days have been a doozy! I can't believe it's taking me this long to finish writing CI7. I'll freaking finish it, I swear so for now,,,, I heard it was angst week. :) Thanks for reading!)

[penny-beee]

Maybe

The fact that she had left him finally set in.

Angst

“As I stand on the street corner and watch these two streets meet, I suddenly feel at peace. Maybe it’s because at my feet lies the intersection of two distinct paths forming at the point of vulnerability. Maybe it’s because it’s a reminder of you and me. And the blissful bond we both shared.”

A cold shower of wet droplets reeked havoc on Jaebums shoulders. For the thousandth time he had left his apartment shirtless, not giving a shit about the freezing weather that had come to visit. He stood for the first time though at the end of his street, the four way cross walk looking different than it had before.

His mind hand wandered, thinking of all the places these paths could take him. Maybe back to her, the woman he had loved too late. The woman that invested all of her love and time into him, the woman that fought for him. He had realized too late that he did truly love her.

The thoughts drifted to the memories of shared kisses and cold afternoons that we filled with cuddling and laughter.

“Without a care in the world, my arms wrapped around you to shelter you from the cold.”

He imagined her finding him standing like that, shirtless, emotionless and blank. Standing in the freezing rain, just wanting to feel something, anything other than numb.

Her arms would wrap around his torso, her small hands stretching to fold together. Her cheek would lay softly on his bare back, teeth clanking softly due to the temperature. She would tell him to get inside and put a jacket on, that she still needed him. All these actions, he hoped for dearly.

Finally letting a sense of regret hit him, tears looking down his face. Masking themselves next to the droplets of rain. He heaved, out of breath from the anxiety he held deeply. What had he done.

“Two souls kept warm by each other’s company. Two hearts dancing in the rain playfully. Two minds with the same thing in mind. You want me to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

The rain slowed, giving him the quietness to think back on how he started this mess. The depressing thoughts of him taking her to his favorite restaurant and spoiling her with a dozen red roses, she had kept next to her bed for three weeks. The words “be mine, only mine,” leaving his lips. All now coming back as the thudding of hard water violently hitting the ground simmered down.

The grin that grew on her ethereal features as she stuttered a simple “yes, of course.” Three years of friendship had turned into what she wanted and what he thought he wanted.

He had thought he wanted her, he had thought she was what he wanted to end with. The pushing away killed him, but he didn’t want to be hurt, so he became so distant that his woman had left. Until that last sentence of “I was never here to hurt you or neglect you,” left her peachy lips, did he realize he fucked up. Big time.

“Maybe time has finally out played me. Maybe I stopped seeing beauty in the little things. Maybe I’ve stopped appreciating the gift life brings. Maybe I’m in over my head. Or maybe I just miss the familiar contours of your body under my chalk white sheets of my bed.”

He ruffled his hair angrily, cries left his throat like never before. Voice cracking as his mouth spread wide, he was broken. The little things like the morning sunshine and birds singing in the distant had grown bleak and bland.

He had grown lonely, overwhelmed, and stressed. What would he do now, now realizing there was no one to come home to, no one to take care of, no one to reach out to, no one to hold. The only person to ever genuinely give to him had disappeared.

“ I don’t know maybe this is normal. Maybe I stopped being myself after you left. Maybe this is all a test. Maybe I failed and I couldn’t clean up the mess. Maybe that’s why the rain suddenly feels colder on my skin. Maybe that’s why when I try to apologize I don’t know where to begin or where to end.”

He had stopped leaving the apartment, his six best friends and colleagues never could get ahold of him. When he did show up to practice his expressions were basic. Ate less, joked with everyone less. He faked a soft chuckle here and there, but he didn’t know she had been watching.

Every live, every performance, every video. She was always there, she never left. To look over him, to make sure he was still here on this planet. Jinyoung had sent a message of his changing habits, two weeks prior. Begging for her to just reach out, but she couldn’t. Not yet, not when she was still recovering from the fresh wound herself.

She knew Jaebum was struggling, mentally, emotionally and physically. At the right moment in time, she decided she would go back to the place where the memories had mainly been held. But not yet.

“All these things I’ve typed up in my mind that I wanna tell you I just can’t bring myself to hit send.”

‘I’m sorry, I have so much I want to tell you.. but Idk if you’ll ever listen, or if you even have this number anymore..’ his fingers hovered reluctantly over the send icon.

Groaning, he rolled his eyes and threw the device across the room. No, she wouldn’t listen. Not after what I did. Was all his brain could tell him.

“Maybe I fucked up and I won’t admit it maybe I’m a coward. Seems like I’ve got all the time in the world, maybe I should do something about it. Every minute without you feels like an hour. Maybe I’m a fool for distancing myself from you. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t admit that I loved you. Because for some reason, I couldn’t accept that maybe, just maybe, you might have loved me too.”

The time clicked slowly, the minute hand moving dreadfully slow. Jaebum sat on his leather couch, staring up at the ceiling. Thinking over the option to go apologize, to go fix things. A month without her had become depressing, no laughter filled the apartment anymore. No smiles or joy. Just tears, depression and alcohol.

Making the final decision, he hoisted himself off the couch and out the front door. Youngjae had stayed close with her and got the address to her new apartment in Hongdae. Running at full sleed, he ignored the cameras and screaming fans. Sprinting through a few parks and a school yard, just to wind up right in front of her on the street.

She sat almost goddess like on a bench under a blossom tree. The spirit he had ruined sat so mindlessly just a few feet away. His heart sank as the regret boiled back up to his chest. Come on, Jaebum. You won’t get her back if you don’t try. He pushed. His feet trugded over to his lost love.

“(Y/n).” He whispered, the woman’s ears peeking up to the voice.

“Jaebum.. what can I do for you.” She breathed, nervous of the turnout that was to come after this encounter.

“I realize now that I was too afraid to admit my feelings, I realize now that you only loved me wether it was tough or kind. I realize now that I’m probably too late to apologize, but I wanted to even if it is.” His fingers intertwined, anxiously he looked at his shoes.

“Jaebum, I won’t get your hopes up. It’s never too late to apologize, but what you did was wrong, immature, hurtful. I could go on, but we would be here too long. You should have communicated, talked to me. How am I suppose to be in a relationship with someone that doesn’t talk about how he feels, I can’t be in a one sided relationship. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I didn’t even fully leave. I’ve been here this whole time. I just decided to wait before I came back to sort things out.” She let out, all in one single breath.

“I’m sorry, I was a piece of shit. I should’ve talked to you, but please I can’t afford to lose you for good. Please come back to me.” He whispered, he had chocked on his own tears.

“If I decide to come back, it’ll be on my own terms and the knowing fact that we are starting from square one.”

[psychosistr]

The Only Thing I Want to Do

 Jonawagon Week- Day 3: AU/Stone Mask

Summary: Winter has ended and the town is starting to wake up again. Jonathan, however, probably won’t be able to focus until a certain blonde creature returns home..

Notes: So, this is a Moomins AU. I didn’t go full-animalization with this, just ears and tails. For those who have never seen or heard of The Moomins, it’s a series of books and comics that have been adapted into several cartoons over the years about a family of creatures and their adventures. Jonathan and his family in this one are based off of the titular characters, the Moomins, in that they are very friendly and hibernate during the winter. Speedwagon and Elizabeth are based off of the character Snufkin, a human-like creature with a semi-human cat-like father who loves to travel and doesn’t usually hibernate. More notes about how I came up with this AU at the end.

All was quiet in the Joestar residence. In the master bedroom, a lovely woman with blonde hair and silky pointed golden-furred ears lie sleeping by herself in an extremely large bed that was wide enough for at least three people. In the smaller but still sizable bedroom down the hall, a five year old boy with dark hair and matching ears was snoring loudly while sprawled out beneath his many blankets. The room across from his, which was normally reserved for someone not related by blood but by bond to the other two, was currently empty, as was the guest room beside the small boy’s.

Downstairs, however, was the one person wide awake. Sitting at the dining room table with his chin propped in his hand as he watched the final pieces of winter melt away and make way for spring was the lord of the estate: Jonathan Joestar. He was a tall, muscular gentleman with dark hair and a pair of soft furry ears atop his head that matched his hair- a long, skinny tail that fluffed up at the tip swishing idly behind him.

While he was normally one to greet others with a smile on his face, the way his ears drooped on his head and his tail continued to flick about clearly showed his distress. Jonathan had been having a particularly difficult time hibernating this winter. He had woken up at least three times that he could remember clearly. Each time he’d been roused from his slumber he did the same things- made sure his wife, Erina and his son, George, were still asleep and properly bundled up to keep out the cold, double checked the locks on the doors and windows, added more wood to the fire places to ensure the house remained warm enough…and visited the empty room down the hall just long enough to see if the scent of its usual resident still lingered in it (it did the first time, the second time was fainter, but the third time was almost unnoticeable).

The empty room and its usual occupant were a great factor in Jonathan’s distressed state. That room was set aside for the other love of his life, the mumrik Robert E.O. Speedwagon. The mumrik was kind, clever, adventurous, wise, and loving to all he cared about. He was as much of a parent to George as Jonathan and Erina were and he had been with Jonathan almost as long as Erina herself had. He loved him so dearly and his heart ached whenever Speedwagon had to leave..

Jonathan was not a fool, he knew that Speedwagon had to leave once winter set in. The mumrik did not hibernate for long periods through the bitterly cold season like Jonathan and the rest of the moomins in the area did- well, to Jonathan’s knowledge, mumriks COULD hibernate as a defense from the cold if they needed to, but it was more of a short term thing that only lasted a few weeks rather than months like he did- and his kind were not equipped to survive the cold as easily other creatures, thus it was safest if he left the country during its coldest season.

In addition to his own safety, though, there was another reason Speedwagon travelled in the winter- his kind did not often root themselves in one location, they were nomadic and enjoyed freedom and traveling the world as they pleased. Speedwagon was a bit of an oddball to the rest of his species in that he had chosen to stay in one place for most of the year, but he paid them no mind and simply stated that this place was exciting enough to keep him entertained for months on end.

Jonathan knew that wasn’t completely true. He could see it whenever Speedwagon gazed out at the sky or when he would sit on the roof when it rained. The look in his eyes told Jonathan how much the other man yearned for adventure and missed his days as a wanderer. He stayed simply because he loved Jonathan, George, and Erina very dearly and knew they missed him whenever he left. Winter was the one time of the year that Speedwagon allowed himself to roam as he saw fit since he could not stay there during the season and Jonathan and his family would be asleep anyway.

As much as Jonathan worried for his beloved’s safety whenever he left, and no matter how much he missed him before he fell into hibernation and after he awoke before the last vestiges of winter had yet to release the land, he would never deny Speedwagon his freedom to travel and explore and sate his natural instincts when he clearly desired it so strongly.

So, every year since he’d known the man had progressed much the same: Jonathan would walk with him to the edge of town on the last day of autumn and bid him farewell with a loving kiss. The blonde would promise him that he would be back when spring thawed out the town and the flowers began to bloom again, the birds carrying his tune back into town as he approached. Then Jonathan would race out to meet him in the same spot where they’d said goodbye and wrap his arms around him to bring him into a “welcome home” kiss before walking back to their house together.

One would think after at least six years of doing the same thing over and over again would lessen the anxiety and worry that Jonathan felt, but it did not. Every year he would wake up just before the spring thaw and sit alone, waiting with baited breath for his beloved to return and for his family to be whole once more.

His ears perked up on his head, pointing straight up at the ceiling as he heard soft footsteps descending the stairs before walking towards him. He didn’t even need to turn around to know who that was.

“Couldn’t sleep, Jojo?” The kind, understanding voice of his wife asked him from the kitchen doorway.

Jonathan turned to look at her and smiled softly. “Afraid not, dear.” He said as he got up to greet her with a warm hug and sweet kiss on the lips.

When they parted, Erina glanced at the window that Jonathan himself had been preoccupied staring out of not even a minute ago. “About how much longer do you think we have?”

“Another day, at the very least.” Jonathan said while looking back to the window. “There is still some snow left and the flowers are only just now starting to wake up.”

“Hm, a shame.” She said with a slight frown. “Shall we wake little George up as well?”

Jonathan contemplated the proposal for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not quite time yet. Besides, he’s still a growing boy and needs as much rest as he can get.”

A teasing smile crossed Erina’s lovely face. “Are you sure? I fear too much rest and he may end up even more of giant than you.” She chided while tapping him on the top of his head, standing up on her toes to reach him properly.

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Perhaps he shall grow tall enough to make people believe HE is the older one between us.”

They both shared a laugh at that and Jonathan felt his aching heart mend ever so slightly. He still missed Speedwagon, but getting to spend the day alone with his wife was something he would certainly not complain about.

By the next day the snow had finished melting, leaving the grass glistening and wet while the flowers had begun to bloom now that they were free of their icy blanket.

Jonathan and Erina were in the kitchen, working together to prepare a light breakfast of tea and muffins with the few ingredients left in the pantry (they would need to go into town as soon as the market opened today). Jonathan finished preparing the tea for himself, Erina, and George and carried it over to the table on a serving tray. He glanced over at the window once his hands were free and decided to open it up.

“Hm..” He gave a pleased hum as the sweet smell of spring flowers filled the room and blended with that of the fresh tea around him. He closed his eyes, listening for the sounds of any birds outside, but, to his dismay, he did not hear any yet. “Not quite yet…”

What he did hear, however, was the excited patter of tiny feet running down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Mommy! Daddy! It’s spring time!” The excited little boy called while running first into the kitchen and then into the dining room where Jonathan was still standing by the table.

Jonathan looked down at his young son and gave a fond chuckle at the sight of him, hair still mussed from sleep and dressed in his soft, warm pajamas. “Happy spring time, George.” He greeted and scooped his son up into a hug so he could look out the window as well.

“Woooow!” George marveled at the scenery through the window. “It’s always so pretty when the snow melts!” His tail was practically wagging behind him with how excited he was. It suddenly stopped and his ears perked up as he tilted his head back to look his father in the eyes. “Is papa back yet?”

Jonathan gave his son a sad smile and shook his head. “Not just yet, I’m afraid.”

“Aww..” George pouted and looked back out the window. “But..he’ll be back soon, right, daddy?”

“He will indeed, George.” Jonathan looked out the window as well. “We shall simply have to keep our ears open for the first song of the birds.”

He tried not to show it, but he was just as eager and desperate to see Speedwagon return home as George was.

After their light breakfast had been served, they all talked about the dreams they’d had while hibernating and what they would be doing once the town was fully awake and bustling again.

“The first thing I want to do is go with daddy to see papa and Lisa when they come back!” George proudly declared while biting his muffin in half.

Erina reached over with a napkin and wiped the crumbs from the boy’s messy face. “Now, now, George, you know that your father will bring Speedwagon back home soon enough, you can wait to see him. Besides, Elizabeth will have to go home to her fathers before she comes over here.”

George pouted, his cheeks puffing out a bit. “But I want to see them right away!” He looked at Jonathan with big, pleading eyes. “Please, daddy, can’t I go with you?”

Jonathan shook his head and gave George a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid not, George. After all, your mother will need help bringing home the groceries if I leave to fetch Speedwagon before she returns, won’t she?”

George frowned, looking down with drooped ears. “I guess so..” That was something George had certainly inherited from Jonathan- a gentleman’s heart that could never say no to helping a lady in need. “But you will bring papa straight home, won’t you, daddy?” He asked when he finally looked back up at Jonathan, those pleading eyes back again.

“Yes, George.” Jonathan answered with a loving smile and he gently patted the boy’s head. “I will bring him straight home and we will all have a fantastic dinner tonight.”

“Yay!” George cheered, his ears perked up again. “I can hardly wait. Papa said he was going to bring me a souvenir when he got back!”

Jonathan chuckled in amusement at his son’s eagerness. “Doesn’t he always do that?”

“Uh huh.” George said with a grin. “That’s because I always ask him to. Papa never breaks a promise, so if I make him promise to bring me something then I know he’ll always come back.”

Jonathan stared for a moment, shocked by his young son’s clever mind and mastery of emotional manipulation. “That is positively diabolical, George.” His shocked expression turned into a proud grin and he ruffled his son’s hair affectionately. “Keep up the good work!”

George grinned more, his tail wagging back and forth again. “I will, daddy!”

After breakfast was eaten and the dishes were washed, the family was preparing to go into town for some much needed shopping when a familiar sound caught everyone’s attention.

Jonathan quickly opened the front door, as it was the nearest exit to the outside world, and stood in the still damp grass as he looked to the sky. Sure enough, there were birds flying overhead once again. As he closed his eyes to hear the tune of their chirps and tweets, he recognized a familiar cadence to their song.

“He’s here..” He whispered when he opened his eyes again. An excited smile was spreading over his face and his tail was flicking about anxiously. He turned back to Erina, about to ask if-

“Go on, then.” She said with an understanding, if slightly amused, smile. “We both know you will be useless to me until he’s back home, anyway.”

“Right, sorry.” He smiled apologetically before looking down at George. “You will take care of things while I’m gone, right, George?”

“You can count on me!” George said while puffing his chest out in a show of pride.

“I always do.” Jonathan said and gave the young Joestar another pat on the head before taking off in a light jog down the trail into town. “We will return in time for supper!” He called back with a wave over his shoulder.

Within less than a minute the light jog had turned into a full-blown sprint through town.

Jonathan weaved through crowds with practiced ease, leapt over smaller obstacles, and darted across any open spaces he could spot- anything to cut down on the time it took him to get all the way to the other side of the city in time to meet the one he longed for so desperately.

Despite his best efforts, though, it always took him half an hour to get from one side of town to the outskirts of the opposite side. Jonathan spotted the small wooden bridge situated over a stream just outside of town and slowed his pace until he was standing by it, panting from both the running he’d just done as well as the growing anticipation.

Thankfully, he wasn’t kept waiting more than five or ten more minutes after his arrival. He heard a familiar voice that started far off at first, but soon grew closer with each note it sang softly.

“And I meant

Every word I said.

When I said that I loved you I meant that I loved you forever.

And I'm gonna keep on lovin' you,

'Cause it's the only thing I want to do.

I don't want to sleep, I just want to keep on lovin' you.

Baby, I'm gonna keep on loving you,

'Cause it's the only thing I wanna do.

I don't want to sleep, I just want to keep on lovin' you..”

Then, at last, he saw him.

The blond mumrik was dressed as sharply as ever in his usual suit, the only thing throwing off his appearance being the rather large traveling pack currently hoisted around his shoulders. His ears, as with many creatures in these parts, were blond like the rest of his hair but were wider and more triangular than Jonathan’s, the appendages currently folded back to make room for his favorite bowler hat atop his head. His tail, which Jonathan could spot swaying behind him in time to the tune he’d just been singing, was different from Jonathan’s own in that it was far more slender and wispy, one could almost mistake it for a golden thread if not for the way it moved about and the tuft of layered fur concentrated on the tip of it. His hands, Jonathan knew all too well despite currently being in the traveler’s pockets, were also different in that they had sharp but short black claws on the fingertips and paw-like pads along the palms (and Jonathan knew that his feet matched his hands, but with little tufts of fur on the tops of them). Then there were his eyes. Those lovely bright brown orbs with an almost feline quality to his pupils that Jonathan could be so easily mesmerized by…

When those eyes finally looked up at him, Jonathan felt his heart almost stop. God, how he had missed those eyes.

He quickly shook himself from his daze and walked across the bridge to meet Speedwagon halfway. “Welcome home, Robert.” He greeted his beloved with a warm smile before wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him into a chaste but loving kiss.

“Good t’ be back, Jojo.” The mumrik returned with an equally kind look once the kiss ended. He looked down beside himself and Jonathan finally noticed the young girl at Speedwagon’s side. “Go on now, y’ should get back ‘ome ‘fore your papas come for me ‘ead.” He joked while giving the girl a playfully light shove.

The little girl, another mumrik but with long dark hair that was far straighter than Speedwagon’s own luscious locks and carrying a tinier backpack of her own, looked up at him. “Okay.” She walked off down the bridge, not even bothering to look at the other two still standing on it. “Bye, Mr.Speedwagon. Bye, Mr.Joestar.”

Jonathan smiled and called to her before she was out of earshot. “Tell your fathers I said hello, Elizabeth. Oh, and do feel free to come over for dinner- George would love to see you!”

The only response he got was a wave from the retreating girl, so he took that to mean she had heard him.

“That girl’s gettin’ better an’ better at survivin’ on ‘er own.” Speedwagon commented while adjusting his pack. “Pretty soon she won’t need me lookin’ out for ‘er no more.”

Jonathan grabbed the backpack off of his love’s shoulders, easily slinging it over one of his own and leaving his other arm free to wrap around Speedwagon’s shoulders and hold him close. “Really? But she’s still so young. Why, she’s not even a year older than George. Do you truly think she is ready to travel on her own?” The pair began to walk back towards town, taking their time so they could speak comfortably and spend more time together.

“She ain’t a moomin, love- she’s a mumrik.” Speedwagon stated, a silent purr going through him that Jonathan could feel due to their closeness. “We don’t exactly got a time for this sort o’ thing. Hell, most of us just end up raisin’ ourselves from the day we can crawl.”

Jonathan was quite aware of that major difference between their two species. While moomins tended to raise and care for their young, mumriks were more inclined to be solitary creatures. Speedwagon himself had no recollection of any parents ever being in his life and had grown up all by himself.

This led to more than a few misunderstandings between Speedwagon and those around him over the years.

The first incident occurred when little Lisa was discovered as a baby out in the woods one summer while Erina was pregnant with George. Jonathan had tried to search for her parents, showing the baby to several people in town, all of them failing to recognize her. When Jonathan showed the infant to his male partner, Speedwagon had identified her as a mumrik infant just by sniffing one of her tiny ears.

He then startled Jonathan with his casual reply of “Just set ‘er back down wherever y’ found ‘er.” When the moomin explained that he found the girl alone in the forest, Speedwagon just gave him a confused look. “So?” He had asked with a tilt of his head. “That’s probably where she wanted t’ be. Jus’ let ‘er wander ‘round. If she dies, it just means she ain’t meant t’ be ‘ere.”

The mumrik had said those words with no trace of cruelty or coldness. Rather, he said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Jonathan should already have been aware of it.

That day led to a long conversation about the vast differences between moomin parenting and mumrik parenting. Speedwagon still seemed confused by the end of it all, not fully understanding the concept of raising a child like that, but he at least understood that the thought of abandoning the child to the wilderness would upset his partner. In the end, they gave Elizabeth to the two moomins living on the edge of the forest- Dire and Straights, who seemed happy to have a child of their own. Speedwagon advised them against taking her in, citing that raising mumrik children was difficult at best, but they cared for her nonetheless.

Several other incidents popped up whenever the blond mumrik was asked to help look after Elizabeth and George. He had a bad tendency to leave them in different places around town due to forgetting that they wouldn’t know how to find their way back (Elizabeth improved at this quickly and began learning her way around town, often leading George to help him find his way). Teaching him the proper way to hold infants and small children had been an ordeal, as he would often startle if one of them started crying (or biting, in Elizabeth’s case) and nearly drop them. Then there was the whole adventure centered around how to do little things such as feeding them or helping them with their clothes, both things that Speedwagon was under the impression of “shouldn’t they already know how to do that?”.

It took a few years of trial and error, but Speedwagon had eventually come around to the idea of parenting. There were still certain things he didn’t understand, but he had become skilled enough to look after one or both of the children on his own. He was also the one that Dire and Straights trusted to look after Elizabeth when she needed to travel away for winter.

Jonathan shook himself from his reminiscing, glancing in the general direction he knew Dire and Straights’ cottage to be in. “Well, I hope her fathers can accept the idea of her traveling on her own..”

Jonathan felt Speedwagon’s shrug against his side and his arm. “Ain’t like I didn’ warn ‘em what they were getting’ int’ when they took ‘er in.”

“Indeed.” Jonathan agreed reluctantly. “You informed them quite well, dear.” Deciding to change the subject as that one would likely end up going in circles, Jonathan recalled George’s words from breakfast that morning. “George is quite excited to see what you brought him this time.”

“Heh, he always is.” Speedwagon gave a small chuckle, clearly thinking of the young moomin’s excited nature. “But I know ‘alf o’ it’s just cause ‘e thinks ‘e can trick me int’ comin’ back every year.”

“You knew?” Jonathan asked with short gasp.

Speedwagon glanced up at the taller man with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah. Why’re y’ actin’ like y’ weren’t the one puttin’ ‘im up to it?”

Jonathan gave him a fake pout and tried to sound offended. “Why, I would never do such a thing, Robert!”

Speedwagon hummed in thought and tilted his head to the side. “True. Seems more like somethin’ Erina would do, honestly.”

They glanced at each other and broke into a fit of laughter, knowing that if Erina was there she would find it amusing as well.

They walked all the way around town, taking the scenic routes and back roads as much as possible so they could spend all the time they wished alone with each other. Soon enough they would be home, surrounded by their loving family and enjoying a delicious meal while Speedwagon spoiled George with gifts and regaled them all with tales of his adventures while he was away.

For now though, as they walked side-by-side with Jonathan’s arm around Speedwagon’s shoulders and the mumrik’s tail twining around his own behind them, this moment was just for the two of them.

Ending Notes: So, when I was little I loved the Moomins, still do, actually. I recently got back into it due to finding an old journal where I wrote down some early fanfiction (I may rewrite some of those stories) about the first OTP I ever had- MoomintrollxSunfkin. Between that and the surge of Moomins stuff online due to the new Netflix series, I started looking at stuff on Tumblr for Moomins.

At one point, my best friend/room mate saw an image of Snufkin that’s going around online that says “Be Gay, Do Crime”. They laughed and said “Hey, that sounds like Speedwagon!” I laughed along with it at the time, but, the more I thought about it, the more I started having am existential crisis over how much the characters actually FIT.

Jonathan is kindhearted and sweet and understanding and accepting of others despite how different they are but is very tough and will not hesitate to defend those he cares about, just like Moomintroll.

Speedwagon is rough and exists on the fringes of society and goes against what most would consider proper (earlier in his life, at least) but is actually quite wise and has good instincts and a good heart, like Snufkin.

So, when I saw there was an AU day for this event, I decided to write my first JJBA OTP as my first EVER OTP and it fit way too easily XD

I might go back and add another chapter later, but I wanted to at least get this part done in time for the event.

[illogicalwritings]

Carry Me Out To Sea

Read Here on AO3

The legend of the Trance. It was supposed to be nothing more than a silly fable passed around between sailors and pirates alike in the rundown, trashy taverns after hard months of sailing. No one really knew someone who was stuck in a Trance. They just heard it from someone who’s cousin had heard it from the town gossip who’d probably lied about seeing a victim of the Trance. So, it was easy to exchange amongst one another as a cautionary tale for those who wanted to live a life on the rocky waves. Don’t get too close to the water, don’t stray from your fellow cremates, and so one and so forth. However, it did nothing but encourage the young from testing the boundaries of what they could get away with, as there was no proven proof that the Trance was a real consequence.

The mysterious, silent ailment was caused by being put under a mermaid’s spell. Supposedly, it was so they could keep their prey subservient and numb until they could return at a later day to reclaim their meal. Although, there was a specific problem with every story about the Trance, no matter how enacting a tale: no one had ever actually laid eyes on a flesh and blood mermaid, or if they had, they certainly hadn’t lived to tell the tale. Trance or not.

It was just stories, adequate entertainment for the young souls, a fright for the superstitious and confusion for the drunk . . .

That is, that’s all the stories were, until a young, promising sailor named Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t leave the beach. He remained there, day and night, weighted like an anchor in the sand. He sat there by his lonesome with an unwavering gaze locked on the rise and fall of the waves, and the only sounds that could reach him was the ceaseless melody of the sea.

Iwaizumi Hajime, his best friend since childhood, assisted by two others, Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei, had tried to carry the man back to his house. And they had succeeded up to a certain point. They had locked him in his room, his windows as well, when they noticed how he immediately tried to escape with a glaze in his eyes but moved like a madman to try and get back outside. With all means of escape cut off, they fell soundly asleep in the main room of Iwaizumi’s little shack, only to wake up and find Oikawa missing from his room the next morning.

Oikawa had picked the damn lock on the window in the dark of the night and wandered back to the shoreline. He sat down so the tips of his toes were often brushed with the cool water as it crawled ashore, a contented smile playing at his lips as he stared at the way the water glistened like shiny jewels with the rising sun. It was as if he was trapped in his own mind, an unbreakable prison, where the only recognizable feature of him was the adoring smile he cast towards the sea. He was charmed, plain and simple. Even the sun couldn’t touch. It cast it’s bright glow on him day in and day out, but he never once was burned or his skin made irritated. He stayed perfect, as he had always been, with his sweeps of sweet maple atop his head and his doe brown eyes so vibrant and alive with desire as the sea promised him untold pleasures.

And even though he was as responsive as a talkative corpse, Iwaizumi never once left Oikawa’s side during the day, and seldom during the night. It might’ve been survivor’s guilt or a best friend’s loyalty, the locals suspected, but it was so much more than that. Iwaizumi loved and adored Oikawa, faults and all. It was why he wanted to be there when Oikawa awoke from the Trance, like Iwaizumi was convinced he would. If he stayed by Oikawa’s side long enough, protecting him like a knight protects his king, then the mermaid would never come back and would give up on Oikawa indefinitely and then . . . And then Oikawa would return to his normal self.

For years Iwaizumi grumbled about how Oikawa never shut his trap, but now Iwaizumi just longed to hear about Oikawa’s dreams of becoming the best captain with the strongest ship on the sea. He wanted to hear about the dozens of treasure maps Oikawa had hidden away under his bed to hide from his merchant father, who didn’t condone treasure hunters or pirates and certainly would’ve struck his son for such fantasies. Iwaizumi wanted to see Oikawa be free on the ocean again, so much so that an anger built up inside him like a furnace. Iwaizumi wanted to kill the mermaid for grounding Oikawa to land like this, possibly traumatizing him so much that Oikawa would never again want to be near the water.

All of Oikawa’s dreams he’d held onto so dearly since childhood dashed away by fear. An easily attainable future for someone as strong and as determined as Oikawa was stolen. The very least Iwaizumi could do now was sit and guard his friend through storm and drought, to frighten away the hungry mermaid that might come for Oikawa.

Iwaizumi was never much of a talker, more of listener than anything else, always lending an ear to Oikawa’s insistent ramblings, but as he was alone with a silent Oikawa for the undetermined future, he found that he talked to Oikawa or to himself regularly, to banish the silence.

“I miss you, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, one day, about six weeks into the ordeal. He placed a crown of woven seashells and the island’s best flowers atop Oikawa’s head. His best friend, despite neither eating or drinking anything for more than a month, hadn’t lost any weight. He was still his perfect self, the one that always took Iwaizumi’s breath away with just a smile or playful wink.

“I told you not to go swimming at night, didn’t I? I always did tell you that . . . right? Oikawa, please tell me that I always did my best to look out for you.” He reached out, cupping his best friend’s face with care like Oikawa might break if he held him with too much strength. The brown eyes blinked owlishly at him, with no signs of recognition or care.  He turned back to the water just a second later and Iwaizumi was left devastated by his side, guilt crushing his chest and making it difficult to breath.

Oikawa hadn’t even heard Iwaizumi, not over the whisper of the wind in his hears or the roaring lullaby of the crashing waves on the bank of the shore, so cold yet so welcoming. The sea called to him like a mother calling for her lost child, begging him to dive in and die to become with the water. He couldn’t join the waves yet, though, not quite yet. He had to wait for the merman to return. His mind was consumed with thoughts of the dark, smooth, iridescent skin that started at the midriff and continued to the tip of the shark-like tail, and tree bark brown eyes that also shined with a kaleidoscope of sunlight reflect off water. The very image hypnotized him into a pleased, catatonic state. All he needed was to remember the soft, warm lips against his and the gentle murmur of promised return and he was content to sit and wait until he died, if need be.

The waiting was a lonely and arduous task, but Oikawa waited with a smile until the merman would grace him his presence. And the merman did, on a cold, night where eat wind was whipping up a storm and clouds hid the shine of the full moon from view, blanketing the beach in an unforgiving darkness. Wrapped in a blanket and under a makeshift tent, Iwaizumi had fallen asleep after trying for hours to keep awake and watch Oikawa, but unconsciousness had taken over.

Through the wind came a song, fluttering like a butterfly against the loud noise of nature and into Oikawa’s ear, ripping him out of the Trance he’d been trapped in. He was left to double over, gasping for air like he was suffocating, having forgotten how to breathe on his own for so long. His eyes felt dried out and raw, skin was tough and sandy. He was out of place, he knew, and the the rain falling around him provided some semblance of comfort from the grueling torture of being land.

Oikawa coughed loudly when a sudden pour of harshly salt water was poured over him and he swore he’d never felt more alive. Sputtering, but finally feeling right in his own skin, Oikawa looked up to see the merman that had been all he could think about for weeks standing in front of him, draped in a blanket of dark grey silk.

“Koushi,” Oikawa murmured breathlessly, holding his arms out as is to be held. “I missed you!”

“Needy Tooru,” Koushi teased with a sly smile. He kneeled down, cupping Oikawa’s cheek, and pressed a sweet kiss against his lips. “But I missed you too.”

“You abandoned me,” Oikawa pouted, giving Koushi his best attempt at puppy eyes.

“You’re so dramatic,” Koushi chided playfully, taking Oikawa’s hands in his own and lifting him up and onto his own two feet.

“Shush, you know you love me.”

Koushi stuck his tongue out at Oikawa and chuckled, glancing to the side to make sure that Oikawa’s loyal guard dog hadn’t awoken yet. It seems they still had time.

“I do love you, Tooru, and I hate that I kept you waiting. I’m sorry for that. Are you ready?” Koushi asked, walking backwards and slowly leading Oikawa into the water. As the merman put one foot into the water, the raging sea and storm halted as if by magic.

Oikawa watched in as clouds floated away like a bad dream and let the moonlight shine down on Koushi. A merman or mermaid cannot step foot on land without angering the nature of sea and land, but all was calm as the merman returned to his place in the waters. Koushi’s scales shined in the light, glistening like no gems you could find on any piece of jewelry. They were more precious than gold. His hair, though dark and damp, was fine, silver threads that Oikawa longed to run his fingers through.

“It might hurt,” Koushi warned Oikawa, raising an eyebrow. “Can you handle it?”

“I’m the strongest on this island,” Oikawa boasted with a grin, “I can handle anything your magic throws at me. I want to roam my sea forever.”

“Your sea?” Koushi laughed. “Quite a statement, there.” Oikawa took his first steps into the water, still lost in the colors around Koushi, in his scales, in hair and in his eyes. At the contact of the cold sea, Oikawa suddenly lost his balance, gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut in pain. “Aww, need me to hold your hand, Tooru?”

“You’re worried about me.”

“I would never.”

“You are, though. You do want me to make it through this. You want me.”

Koushi bit his lip. “No human born has ever made it through the transformation, and the last time—”

“I’m not him,” Oikawa promised, raising himself back to his feet. His eyes swirled with nothing less than indomitable determination. “I’m stronger than your typical stupid pirates or “scrupulous” merchants. You know that don’t you, beautiful?”

Allowing him a moment of relief, Koushi continued leading Oikawa out to sea until they were waist deep in the water. They paused there, letting the human adjust to the temperature and the idea that he felt more right in water than he did on land. It was an unsettling change, but it felt right. When Oikawa nodded that he was ready, though, Koushi didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, grasping Oikawa by his cheeks and pressed devouring kiss after kiss against the human’s rough, chapped lips. Koushi hummed with hunger as he devoured what little was left of Oikawa’s human soul after being in the Trance for so long. It wouldn’t take much, but Koushi was determined to enjoy the meal for as long as he could.

Oikawa kissed him back with fervor, to keep his mind off the pain that bloomed in his legs, the sting wounds on his legs opened up like he was slashed with a sword. Koushi’s warm lips gave him a sense of sanctuary as he cried through the excruciating fires of pain coursing through his muscles and leaving him almost limp. Shushing him gently, Koushi lowered him to float on his back on the water, peppering more kisses down Oikawa’s neck and onto his bare chest, moaning as he licked the sweet humanity away from him.

“OIKAWA!”

Snarling, Koushi lifted his head away from his meal as he saw Iwaizumi barreling from the shore and into the water. Oikawa was close to passing out now, as he lay lifeless in Koushi’s arms, but he managed to lift his head to whisper an almost inaudible, “Iwa-chan.” At the sound of the name, a raw selfishness consumed Koushi and he wrapped an arm around Oikawa, willing his his tail out and dived down under the surface, taking Oikawa with him swimming with all his strength into deeper, darker, colder waters.

“Tooru,” Koushi sang, holding Oikawa’s face in his hands again, with more care than when hunger had overcame him previously. “Wake up, Tooru. Breathe for me.”

Oikawa opened his eyes and smiled with more strength than Koushi had expected of him. That was a good sign, though. Oikawa actually stood a chance of surviving the torturous transformation of human to merman. He took a deep breath and squealed with joy when he discovered that he wasn’t drowning, and Koushi let out a laugh more of relief than amusement at the sound of Oikawa. He was alive. Oikawa was very much alive.

Now renewed with excitement, the merman and the former human stared down at Oikawa’s legs as the gashes healed as his tail started to grow out. First came a wide, cerulean blue fin that formed where Oikawa’s feet used to be, and then came a soft rayed dorsal fin along his spine. Then a burst of colors bloomed like a garden all over the tail, luscious, rosy pinks, and seaweed green and sunny yellows. Oikawa was beautiful, as he took Koushi’s hand in his and began learning how to operate this new extension of his body. He bit his lip down and learned within a few minutes.

“You’re learning fast,” Koushi commended with a smile. “You show off.”

“I can’t help it if I’m a natural,” Oikawa tittered, swimming circles around Koushi.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a genius Oikawa Tooru. Now, come long.” Koushi took Oikawa’s hand and started pulling him further into the sea. Thrill swam through him when he thought about how everyone would be so impressed when he brought back a fully transformed human. “I’m dying for you to meet the others! You’ll love Shigeru and Yachi. Daichi might be a tad jealous, though, but never mind him. He had his chance.”

Oikawa hesitated, glancing back towards the shore.

Koushi swam to his side. “Your friend? You miss him already.”

“It’s funny,” Oikawa murmured. “I remember him. I know him—He’s Iwa-chan, but . . . He feels so far away.”

“Want to see him one last time?” Koushi offered kindly. “As long as we don’t get too close, we should be safe.”

“No,” Oikawa replied, as if he were still in the Trance. “I think it would hurt too much. I doubt he would understand that I’ve always wanted this, but maybe someday I’ll visit him.”

Koushi huffed, scrunching his face up in distaste as he swam up so he was floating right in Oikawa’s face. “Just don’t go thinking you can replace me.”

“Same goes for you,” Oikawa countered with a grin. “Don’t go around looking for more humans, because I promise you that I really am the most gorgeous one you’ll get. I’ll get jealous, easily, and I’ve been told I’m a bit of brat when I’m jealous.”

“Deal,” Koushi hummed, pleased with Oikawa’s confidence and his sincerity. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes,” Oikawa smiled breathlessly, as the sea opened up to him, like she was welcoming her lost child. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to come home.”

[irondevilpunisher]

This is going to be my second attempt at a prompt and its been on my mind for a while now. If you want to view the first one I did about Joy Meachum you can access it here. I’m not good at this I know but being my 1st anniversary into this fandom is just 2 months away I wanted to do something special for all the people I’ve met here.

I especially want to dedicate this to my friends in the Karedevil squad. Thank you all for welcoming me into this little family with open arms. I’ll never forget the day I met any of you 😘 Here’s to many more years!

*Warning Angst*

Karedevil Prompt: Karen has a lonely rainy night reminiscing about her time with Matt while walking home.

*****

Saturday 12:00 am.

Karen Page read the clock off her laptop realizing she’d been in her office at the Bulletin way past curfew. Its very late but these days time feels like a standstill for her. And Karen had been working on another typical byline, not necessarily as exciting as the ones she used to cover before...but still. Leaning back into her chair, long blond hair falling over her shoulders, pencil resting on her right ear, she glanced at the door. Just hours ago Ellison poked his head inside:

“Don’t work too hard kiddo.” he’d told her; wearing a concerned expression after she mentioned staying to finish up an article.

“Don’t work too hard? But that’s all I want to do.” Karen’s thoughts persisted.  “It helps me get my mind off things...to forget about him for a while...”

It was true. Ever since the tragedy at Midland Circle almost a year ago, all Karen wanted to do was bury herself in the paper. Afraid that if she stood around for too long she’d go crazy. Her relationship with Foggy Nelson, whom she hadn’t spoken with in six months, was strained leaving her feeling even more isolated. And Karen wasn’t by any means a religious person either but these days found herself seeking Father Lantom’s company at the Catholic church. Hoping that she’d might find him there also... Getting her hopes dashed in the process.

Sweeping some strands of hair behind her ears, she pulled out the pencil and flicked it onto the desk. Running her hands up her face Karen let out a bellowing sigh. It was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes even for a brief second she saw the distinct contours of his robust complexion. That handsome, crimson-tinted sunglasses, stubble-mug lawyer. Matt Murdock. Whenever he smiled at Karen he’d get these adorable creases under his eyes spreading down his cheeks to his lips. Lips she remembered very fondly that dwelling for too long made her eyes sting with emotion.

“No I can’t do this!” she snapped at herself, clutching both sides of her hair, “Stop it he’s gone Karen and he’s never coming back.”

KABOOM!

Suddenly a loud explosion shook the whole building overhead, jolting her out of her thoughts. She was more startled than scared. Thunder. When Karen glanced out the window she could see it was raining hard and fast. Just like that night when she walked Matt home from Josie’s Bar. The night they...no she couldn’t keep thinking about him it was too hard. Better leave now before I have another breakdown. Jumping from her seat, Karen collected her purse and with her keys in hand, left the office and locked it behind her. 

She completely forgot to check the weather forecasts that day like usual so she didn’t even bring an umbrella. it was okay though because the car wasn’t parked too far and the rain was more of a welcome distraction for Karen Page.

“Do you mind the rain?” she remembered asking Matt one night.

“No.” he’d responded in that soothing velvety voice she missed dearly.

But tonight Karen did mind because every time it rained in Hell’s Kitchen she was instantly reminded of Matt Murdock. And how empty she felt inside. She thought of his soft touch on her skin as he traced the droplet with his finger up her arm. His invigorating scent of the city air mixed with his peppermint aftershave. The feel of his disheveled chestnut brown hair between her fingers as she pulled him close into an embrace. His warm breath as he pressed his mouth against hers. Too much. Thinking about Matt like this is not healthy. He’s not here anymore. 

Biting her bottom lip Karen shuffled towards her car and stopped to look up at the sky. Her clothes and hair were drenched but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel something. Anything besides the cold numbness. So instead of taking shelter away from the showers above, Karen just stared straight ahead of the street and kept on walking in the direction of her apartment. She wasn’t in the mood to drive, and her place wasn’t far she could always come back for the vehicle tomorrow. 

Usually she walked fast but this time Karen took her time. Soaking in the dreariness of the city much like her outfit. Not even the lights from the street lamps and the taller buildings were as vibrant. The casual onlooker still lurking about might’ve thought she was nuts strolling down the sidewalk after midnight in heels, a black skirt and white blouse which was now exposing her bra straps. She didn’t pay any attention if they were. Karen could only see her frigid breath as she shivered, folding her slender arms over her chest. She refused to be succumbed by cold weather no matter how much her body ached.

Finally Karen spotted the glowing red outlined sign of Josie’s. But she didn’t go inside just stared at her reflection. Too many painful memories of hanging out with Matt and Foggy at the pool table, laughing and goofing around over a couple pints at the bar. And then the night of her first kiss with Matt came flooding back like an uncontrollable freight train. Shaking her head, she let out a loud foreboding exhale and pressed onward towards that infamous alley where his apartment was. 

Pausing briefly Karen’s desolate gaze lifted to the brick layered area; puddles forming in the potholes, shrouded in darkness and cluttered with trash. Seeing it now for the first time in nearly a year felt so deserted. Almost lifeless. Hard to believe Matt used to walk out that same door every day when he went to work. Either that or he’d used those rooftops whenever he did his daring vigilante deeds which unnerved her. Daredevil. She even missed his alter ego. Dammit this can’t continue she needs to move on. He’d want her to. 

For a split second Karen felt like she was being watched as a chill run down her spine. And she looked over her shoulder.

“Matt? No, you know better. He’s gone.”

Karen could only block out the grief for so long until she arrived in an alley near her home. To the left she saw a torn piece of black cloth hanging out of the garbage bin under the stairway. Again she paused in place as another harrowing memory placated her thoughts. Back to the night she was saved by a man in black, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen as he was referred to then. She was was saved by Matt just as he promised the night after they’d first met.

“I’ll keep you safe Karen.” he’d said gently as she wept in Foggy’s arms.

“But you didn’t”, Karen scolded out loud, heart in her throat as she gawked at the black cloth. “You never will because you’re not here anymore. You left me all alone!”

Quickly she hurried around font of the apartment building struggling to fish out her keys from her purse. Just as she found them Karen came to the steps where she had kissed Matt for a second time after they’d shared their first date. It was the most perfect evening in her entire life. She wore her favorite blue dress and he looked so dashing in his suit. Touching her cheek Karen closed her eyes picturing where Matt’s hands held her face. So tender and passionate. When he kissed her she saw fireworks like the ones at 4th of July.

It felt like she belonged to him and he belonged to her. They just fit like two halves of a whole.

Karen realized that night she was crazy about Matt. Despite their lack of knowledge of one another’s past and all their secrets those feelings between them were real. And currently very excruciating. She should’ve known better than to deny it to Frank Castle. He’d seen right through her as though she were made of glass. No use for her pretending it was the truth. She was and still is in love with Matt. And trying to move past that only made the pain of his loss that much more difficult for Karen. She just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I need to get inside before I fall apart.”

Running up the steps she unlocked the door and rushed to her quarters. After shutting herself inside Karen noticed the framed photo on the mantle of her with Matt and Foggy at Josie’s on St. Patrick’s Day among other sorted pictures. Her favorite photo of them. Close beside it was a box filled with a few of Matt’s belongings she’d volunteered to keep. Dropping her purse, Karen picked up the frame and an overwhelming wave of emotion sprung to her eyes. Her throat swelled. Unable to contain the inevitable despair she collapsed to the floor in tears. Crying as she looked at Matt’s goofy expression next to Foggy’s.

“Why aren’t you here with me Matt? Why?” she held the frame close to her heart as her wet hair draped around her. “I need you. I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you.”

Karen pressed her head against the wall and hugged her knees. She couldn’t stop crying. The wounds felt fresh as they did a year ago. And regret washed over her. So much was left unspoken between them. Secrets she never had to chance to come clean to him about now...it was too late. He was gone. Daredevil was gone and nothing was ever going to change that.

The only things Karen had left of Matt was the picture, a box of random stuff and the sound of the rain tapping outside her window. This was was her only tether to him in this world.  

“Karen?” snapping out of her grief-stricken trance. Karen Page could’ve sworn she heard someone calling her name. A very familiar voice. “I’m here...”

 As she looked up wiping her eyes part of her held onto the the false hope that she would see his face again. But he wasn’t there. Just...nothingness. It was only her imagination running away with her. And being a skeptic she didn’t really believe in the afterlife either. No Matt was gone and Karen needed to accept it. She had to go on even if it hurt. 

Climbing to her feet, Karen put the photo back, kicked off her shoes, walked over to her bedroom and flopped onto her bed. 

[3x3racha]

Faith in Love || Hyunjin

Angst w/ Fluff

Word count: 1,409

Warnings: none

Summary: Your relationship with Hyunjin is disapproved

A/N: Thanks for requesting! We’re glad you like the blog! I wanted to go into more detail but I thought it’d end up wayyyyyyy too long. Anyways, I hope you like it!

~Admin Yeong ☾

You’ve been dating Hyunjin for almost 4 months. Everything was kept secret, surprisingly, until Jisung got a hold of his phone and found pictures and texts between you two. Jisung, being as loud and extra as he is, literally screamed about it, bringing it to everyone’s attention. Felix, Jisung, Seungmin, and Jeongin were happy that their hyung was dating someone. The older boys wanted to be too, but they were more aware of the consequences of being in a relationship while being a kpop idol. So, they began to scold him.

“It’s best if you break it off now before it gets too serious,” Chan spoke in a soft, suggesting tone.

“She’s not worth it. You’ll lose your career.” Minho said bluntly.

“We’re already serious! And how do you know she’s not?” Hyunjin asked in disbelief.

“What? Do you like, love her or something?” Changbin spoke in a joking tone.

“Yes!”

“Hyunjin, you’re too young to even know what love is.” Minho huffed.

With that Hyunjin stormed off to your apartment. He told you everything that had transpired with watery eyes. You comforted him, knowing how much heartache he has from his friends, practically family, disapproving so strongly. You both decided to continue the relationship, willing to try to get over these speed bumps.

Avoiding the boys, other JYP staffs, and fans, to keep this all under wraps was difficult and tiring. The boys tried to keep a close eye on him which made it hard to text and talk to each other. You guys had to find a small, private spot to see each other. Your apartment was too far from the dorms for you guys to meet up quickly. You found a little spot behind a store, by the park. You would see each other every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday at 3 am. Which barely left you guys anytime to sleep, but it was worth it. As long as you got to see Hyunjin, even for 5 minutes, gave you faith in your love, that you’d actually find a way to make this work.

A month goes by and now you were sitting in your apartment, waiting for Hyunjin to return. He told the boys that he was visiting family, but instead, he was spending his day off watching a movie with you at your place. Until JYP’s assistant called him, telling him JYP needs to talk to him urgently. Hyunjin looked panic and when he was about to walk out, he grabbed your hand and said, ‘I love you.’ He exited the apartment with a final sad expression. In the pit of your stomach, you knew that you were heartbeats away from disaster.

It’s been hours since he left, it started getting late. You were determined to stay up for Hyunjin. Around 1:30 am, you slipped into slumber on the couch until you were woken up by the sound of staggering footsteps. You sat up and looked to where the noise was coming from. Hyunjin was standing near the door with his head hung low.

“Hyunjin, is everything alright?” You ask out of concern as you got up to walk to him.

“Yea... I-I’m fine.” He choked out while desperately wiping his tears away, hoping you wouldn’t notice. You were about to give Hyunjin a hug to try to comfort him, but he gently pushed you away.

“You’re making this harder.”

“Making what harder?”

“This breakup,” he said in a painful tone as tears started trickling again. Even your eyes started tearing up.

“What?”

“One of the trainees saw us together and told everyone. JYP is not happy.”

“But, we were doing so well hiding it, especially from the fans!”

“How long did you really think this could go on Y/n?! We’re both burnt out! Maybe this is is a sign that we shouldn’t be together. We can’t be together.”

“Hyunjin don’t say that.”

“You know he can disband Stray Kids for this, right?” He continued.

You nodded while looking away from him hoping he wouldn’t see you cry. His heart shattered having to do this, but your heart was shattering too.

‘She needs me. But, they need me too.’ He kept thinking to himself, hoping to find some sort of relief from this breakup. Although, those thoughts were always followed by, ‘what if I’ve just thrown all of this away?’

He couldn't stay here any longer because it would become harder to leave. He collected his things and started to head out. As he opened the door, you grabbed his hand and said, “I love you,” in a quivering and unstable voice.

He yanked his hand back and left you with one word, “Don’t.”

After this, you spent your days in despair. You understood what was at stake for him. This wasn’t easy for either of you. You tried to keep that in mind, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly in rage from the dispute. You lost someone that you loved so dearly because of a forced ultimatum created by his boss. You were bitter, but still understanding of the situation. You missed him badly. Sometimes you’d see his silhouette, hoping that it was actually him. That it was actually real instead of the sad truth.

Two months went by and Hyunjin was in a similar state as you. The boys tried to do everything they could to help him, but all their attempts had failed. He tried to be happy but all he felt was this void. Even at fan signings and concerts, he tried his best to fake a smile but it became more and more difficult as he kept reflecting on that night.

Stray Kids had finished up a local concert and got into the van to head back to the dorms. Hyunjin rests his head on the glass, as his mind was a cluttered mess of regret with racing thoughts.

‘There’s no such thing as too young. I love her, I do. What if you only get one true love? And Y/n is mine. How would we even fix this? What if it’s too late? I can’t undo her pain. Everything has fallen apart. But I need her. My future is nothing without her.’

“Stop the car,” Hyunjin said firmly, earning confused looks from his members and the staff.

“Hyunjin why?” Chan questioned, as the driver pulled off to the side.

“I need to,” he replied hopping out of the van, leaving everyone with an unclear answer.

The cold night’s breeze hit his face as he tried calling you. He tried three times but you wouldn’t pick up. So he started running to your apartment, not even knowing where it was from here. Rain started drizzling as he came across a familiar looking neighborhood, giving him a clear vision of where your apartment was. The rain started pouring harder every time he started running faster, every time he started crying harder. It was as if these rain clouds were following him, and only him.

Once he made it to your apartment, he automatically knocked on the door. He was too impatient to wait for you to answer. He reached into his pocket for your spare house key you gave him that he forgot to give back, that he didn’t want to give back. The door opens and you see him enter the apartment. He was soaking wet, but yet you could still tell he was in tears.

“I love you and I’m not leaving you. No matter what anyone else wants me to do. You’re my love, the only one I’ll ever have.”

You didn’t know how to react. After two months, you really thought you’d never see him again, let alone hear such heartwarming words coming out of his quivering mouth. You stared into his sad, brown eyes as you felt warm tears falling down your face. You ran into his arms, not caring that he was dripping wet. He holds you tightly, not willingly to ever let go. You had to ask, “what made you change your mind?”

“I missed you. When I think about my life without you, I start to cry.”

“Hyunjinnie, what about-” You couldn’t finish your sentence due to your sudden sobbing.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll make it work. I’m not giving up on us. I love you and I’m never leaving your side again.”

“I love you too,” were the only words you managed to get out.

He kissed your head before whispering, “Have faith in love.”

Send your requests here!

~Admin Yeong ☾