#This is the second live slug reaction I have made today

[angel-lopes2000]

ok so i was wondering. Carrie making nice sweater for brick so he wont get cold. im sure he would love it

Your wish became true! 🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻💕💕💕💕

A Friend Loves at All Times

After a party's friends last night, Brick woke up, finding that he's late from job. "Oh shit!" He thought to himself, it was like 07:00am and the local should start at 08:30am, the traffic were completely terrible that time. Brick looked to that asleep Carrie, oh how adorable she looked during the sleep - he couldn't help but giving at kiss at her cheek.

"Goodbye, love! Promise to return later." Whispered to her ear, she could feel a chill running on neck, but smiled by hearing his typical sweet-goofy tone. And grinned with a red smile around the cheeks.

And with all caring to not wake her, Brick crawled silently like a slug, feeling the coldness on floor by his fingers. "Uuugh! Looks like it would be freezy today..'' Exclaimed to himself. And in few seconds, brushed the teeths, wore some clothes, a toast with butter and drove faster as could. Roading tires for minutes, Brick looked to clock, now it miss just three minutes to arrive the doom at time.

"HEY DUDE! MOVE ON, I DON'T HAVE TIME!!" Yelled in frustration, but nothing to the traffic move, so he tried for a short cut. It worked, however, his car got an engine dysfunction: it didn't stop leaking oil, it some short smokes and one of the tires were empty because a sharp rock on way. He could call Bill the Mechanic, but he was already pretty late, so Brick didn't have choices except to push after the job. As expected, Brick was scolded by his boss and made to write down all the paperwork and followed up by screwing in all the long pipes for buildings under development.

At lunchtime, Carrie decides to call her husband and notices that, as well as having forgotten his coat, Brick hasn't taken the lunch she prepared last night.

"Hi darling!" Said the freckled girl, in the same sweet, soft tone, which was like a song to the young man's ears.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Carrie explained to him what had happened, and of course the boy apologized, but the understanding girl consoled him, saying she'd put it in the microwave so he could eat it at dinner time. And later, after all the paperwork has been done and the screws have been fixed in the pipes, Brick pushes his car to Bill's garage, and it takes more than three long hours before the car finally starts working again, and so Brick, despite dealing with a hangover, storms, a car that had broken down and all dirty and messy with sweat and mud, manages to get home.

"Bricky!" Carrie came running towards her, completely excited by her husband's arrival. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, making him blush shyly.

"Hi, princess!" Said the boy, tired and a little weak from overwork.

"Are you all right, darling?" Brick tried to hide the fact that nothing was wrong, but from the moment he started sneezing, the girl realized that the boy had caught a cold, so the blonde used her powers to carry the boy's suitcase and support him to the living room. In the living room, while Carrie went to the kitchen to prepare some medicinal tea, Brick noticed that there was a box next to her. It was pink, decorated with red roses and small white balls. Next to it, there was a letter and this letter was not ironically for Brick, which made the boy smile genuinely, even after a stressful day.

He kisses the letter and opens the package, which turns out to be a beautiful sweater, made by Carrie herself, which was due to be unveiled at Christmas. When Carrie returned, she laughed at the boy's reaction.

"Do you like the sweater, love?" He looked like a child who had just been given a new toy, the boy hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek several times, making the shy girl blush absurdly.

"You're simply the best wife in the world, darling!" Carrie couldn't help but blush again at her husband's compliments. And so, that evening ended with Carrie and Brick having a relaxing hot bath in the tub, then eating the leftovers from the previous party and watching a romantic movie in the living room, with the couple cuddling up to each other.

The End. 💕💕💕💕

[pureanonofficial]

slug never dies

[iwasabs]

Levi finding out his fem s/o dealing with mental and domestic abuse with parents and occasional physical and very awkward/scared talking about? If you’re not comfy writing it that’s fine. Stay safe 🖤🖤

!DISCLAIMER!

I'm sorry for my bad English, but I'm Italian and I'm currently studying this language, so this is also a way to improve my vocabulary. if you spot any mistake, feel free to correct me. furthermore THIS IS A SEPARATE POST AND HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE PREVIOUS ONES.

thank you for asking!!!! I'm so glad I wrote a story with your idea! hope you like it<3

Thanks for the attention and now let’s move on the story’s details.

𖥔 pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader

𖥔 genres: fluff

𖥔 TW: mentioning of mental/domestic/physical abuse, self harm

𖥔 word count: 1.4k

𖥔 summary: while training, you have a little fight with jean and levi notices your weird behavior.

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“you fucking slugs better move your asses or I'll make you pay for it!” levi says in a bossy voice that makes a shiver run down your spine. you love him, but he low-key scares you when he acts like this during the training.

“jean what’s the issue with you? can’t you run faster? or you wish a titan eats your fucking head? come on!”

jean scoffs and mumbles something under his breath.

“eren is running slow too, captain. but that doesn’t seem to bother you at all.” says jean, a little pissed off, staring at eren with the corner of his eye.

“come on, jean. even if I'm on my period, I can run faster than you!” you say chuckling.

everybody knows jean has a huge crush on you, so you really enjoy teasing him and making fun of him, especially during training. he turns in your direction and you laugh at his mad face.

“what the fuck is wrong with you shitty slut? is your life’s so useless that you always need to make fun of mine? I'll tell you this, I'm fucking tired of this bullshit, Y/N” he screams in your face, pushing you on the ground, leaving everybody shocked. he never reacted like this at one of your jokes.

you quickly stand up and walk towards him. you slap his face as hard as you can, turning it on one side because of the impact. then you force him to look at you in you eyes.

“don’t ever try to touch me again or I swear I'm gonna pulp your liver with my bare hands and make you eat it.” you say in a hard voice. you grab his shirt and push him away from you. you quickly unhook your harness, throwing it on the ground and walking fast towards the sleeping quarters.

“what’s wrong, brat?” levi tries to stop you and talk to you, but you ignore him and run in your room. as soon as you close the door, you start to cry silently. you stand up and punch everything you find in your way, destroying the wooden table and chair and ripping the sheets of your bed. you sink your face in the pillow and start screaming as loud as you can, collapsing on your bed.

as soon as you feel something touching your skin, you wake up and run out of your bed.

“jesus christ levi! you scared the shit out of me!” you say to him, still half asleep. he sits on your bed and invites you to follow him. you sit near him, maintaining a little distance, as always.

“what was that out there?” he asks you looking at your eyes. you look away, not able to maintain eye contact.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you exactly know what he is talking about.

“Y/N don’t fucking lie to me, please. you know I hate it.”

“I don’t care if you hate it. you don’t need to know everything about me, we’re not fucking married! stop acting as if you care about me and my stuff!”

“oh so you think I just act like I care but I don't. then you're fucking wrong, Y/N. I care about you more than anyone else, don't even say I don't.”

“then why did you let jean treat me like that? you didn't say a thing, you just let him do whatever he wanted. I felt like shit and you didn't even notice that!”

“Y/N what are you talking about? I wanted to kick his ass when he treated you like that, but you said that we shouldn't tell the others about what's between us. as if I gave a shit about what others think. and don't think I didn't punish him, he’s been running laps for hours and he’s still training. and I'm not the one who run away without letting anyone help them. now, please, tell me why did you react like that?”

you lay on the bed in fetal position. you start to cry, but you quickly try to calm yourself down so levi doesn't notice.

“my parents said...”

he gets closer, but you stop him with a movement of your hand.

“and did... sorry levi I can't.”

you stand up and run out of the room. you never told anyone about what your parents use to do to you, not even levi. you still feel so embarrassed that, even if you try to tell anyone, words aren’t able to come out of your mouth. you sit under a tree near the field where cadets use to train, tearing tufts of grass from the ground. you look at the moon, you didn’t notice evening had already arrived. you look at your legs and arms full of goosebumps and you try to warm up your body a little bit.

“if you go out like this, don’t be surprised to wake up with a cold.” levi’s voice increases the goosebumps on your skin. after a couple seconds, you hear his strong arms grabbing you. at first, you flinch, but then you surprisingly let him catch you. once you’re in his arms, you rest your face on his shoulder and hook your legs and arms around his body. now you’re back in your room.

“Y/N, you know you can trust me. talk to me, please. I need to hear you.”

you feel a strange feeling in your body that makes you gain enough courage to ask levi what you thought you’d never ask.

“would you sleep here tonight?” you ask him so softly that he almost doesn't hear you.

“you sure? you don’t have to di this, Y/N. I told you I'll wait long enough to make you feel ready.” he says touching your cheeks.

in response, you grab his hand and you make him sit on the bed.

“I just... just wanna sleep, is that ok?” you ask him awkwardly. he softly chuckles and nods. you lightly smile and reach the furthest corner of the room, as you start to unbutton your shirt.

his face is confused. he’s probably misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry.” you say full of embarrassment. you take off your shirt and your pants and start to get closer to him. as soon as he can clearly see your body, his face becomes shocked. your thighs and arms are covered in scars. you seat besides him and cover your naked belly with your hands.

“did...did you do that to yourself?” he asks with a shocked face. you slightly nod.

“my mom used to tell me I was just an useless bitch who could only sell her body in the underground to gain some money and have a life. I spent my whole life cleaning the house or going around satisfying my parents’ requests. and when I went back to the house, my dad was there, waiting for me with his belt, prepared to beat the shit out of me. and when he finished, he used to tell me that he was just doing what it takes to grow a soldier.” your voice is broken, you know that you’ll not be able to hold back tears for still a long time. levi notices that.

“it’s ok if you cry. I'm not gonna judge you.” his words hit your ears like an order. in fact, as soon as he speaks, you burst into tears. he hugs you from behind and makes you put your head on his chest. the regular sound of his heartbeat calms you.

“the reason why I reacted like that today... it’s because it was like living again the hell the I've been through. and i’m sorry if I rarely let you touch me, but I'm afraid that you could act like my dad. actually, you’re the only man that can touch me. you’re really important to me, levi. you should know that. and i’m sorry if I didn't tell you this before, but I was embarrassed. and scared.”

“why that, darling?”

“because I didn't know what your reaction would be. what if... what if you found me repulsive? what if touching me made you feel sick? what if you couldn’t look me the same way anymore? levi... I can’t live in a world where you find me disgusting.”

“what are you even saying? how could you even think that? Y/N there’s no way in the world I could ever find you disgusting. you’re the only woman in my life, the only person that matters to me. I just want to make you happy.” he whispers.

as soon as you hear his words, you turn around and you gently place your lips on his.

your first kiss ever. with your man. with levi.

[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

[tragedy-for-sale]

If I Wake Before I Die

Hello! Hello! Hello! Midnight Zone Fic here. Fat TW (mentions/references to self-harm, suicide, death)

If I should wake before I die, I beg you, brother, my life, will you take?

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Echo had taken Tech and Omega on reconnaissance, if it was Echo leading them around, Wrecker had figured they'd be gone for a while. He noticed that Echo needed to get out regularly, staying on Havoc for too long got to Echo's head, he started to feel trapped. So he'd take them on long 'missions.' If Wrecker was honest, he'd thought about talking to Tech about getting a window, a big one, would that help? Wrecker shook his head, no that's a stupid idea. I don't know how to help him. Wrecker let out a groan as he got up, walking towards the cockpit, giving Gonky a pat on the head as he did.

"If I punched a hole in the wall, Tech would get us a window, right?" Wrecker asked Hunter, who had been sitting down in one of the chairs, he was staring up at the sky. Wrecker didn't expect Hunter to turn to look at him, something was wrong. Something had been wrong all day.

"I, don't think that would be Tech's immediate reaction." Hunter spoke slowly. Wrecker was right, Hunter did not look at him and refused to do such. For as Hunter stared up at the night sky, he felt his eyes flooding with tears.

Wrecker looked down, "Yeah... Wanna go lay down?" Wrecker asked, sitting down next to Hunter, he turned his head away, shaking it. Wrecker made a face, "But you should, I'll wait up for them."

"Yeah." Hunter whimpered, frantically wiping his eyes. Wrecker's shoulders slumped when Hunter spoke. His voice was broken and he was shaking.

"Hunter, I can carry you, please, come on," He whispered, checking off a mental checklist: Make yourself small, speak softer, don't force them to do anything. He watched Hunter, "Please, let me hold you, it always works," He pleaded and at last, Hunter swiveled the chair to look at Wrecker. Hunter's eyes were bloodshot, flooded with tears. Wrecker smiled softly and held out his arms.

Hunter stared at him, Wrecker was always so understanding. It drove him nuts. Hunter tried to smile, but he wasn't strong enough to. He reached out his hand and grabbed Wrecker's before closing his eyes and nodding as tears poured down his face. Wrecker's smile grew as he stood up and pulled Hunter to his feet and into a hug. "I love you, buddy," Wrecker whispered, rubbing Hunter's back.

"I love you too-" Hunter cried as he buried his face, the pain in his heart only growing. Right now, Hunter knew, he had never loved Wrecker more, which is why this was going to hurt so much. Hunter kept his face hidden away, his cheeks grew hot and he could feel the world start spinning. He pulled out of the hug, hand on Wrecker's shoulder and then he just stared. Wrecker continued to smile at him. Of course he did. Hunter nodded as he begun to walk to the back room. He really did need to sleep.

Hunter held himself as he walked, trying desperately to calm himself down. But it was no use, there were days when his heart was heavy, but never had his heart ever been so heavy that it burst-

Hunter let out a loud gasp, catching Wrecker's attention. Hunter looked back at him as if he'd been shot, and then Hunter screamed. Wrecker jumped in shock as Hunter let out another loud scream and fell to his knees. Wrecker panicked but it only showed on his face for a moment. Only ever for a moment.

Wrecker ran to Hunter, immediately picking him up off the floor and into his arms then, to Wrecker's surprise, Hunter fought him. Hunter tried to push him away, this pain had grown too unbearable, he couldn't look at Wrecker with all this pain in him. It just made him feel guilty. "Leeme go, please leeme go." Hunter whispered as he tried to push away, but he so weak, he was too weak.

"N-no, no I'm not gonna leave you alone," Wrecker shook his head as he rocked back and forth slightly. Hunter let out a frustrated cry as he gave up, and just started crying. He burst into tears, no longer trying to hold it in. He didn't want this, he didn't want Wrecker here with him, he wanted to be alone, but he couldn't have that, so he cried.

"Wrecker," Hunter was out of breath, panting for air as he continued to scream, "Wrecker I don't wanna be here anymore..."

"I know," Wrecker held him tightly, still rocking slightly. "That's okay, Hunter, but you know I can't let you go." Wrecker spoke, voice barely audible over Hunter's cry that shook the whole ship. Hunter shook his head, 'can't let you go,' that undoubtedly made Hunter's pain worse, Wrecker didn't trust him and refused to abandon him, Hunter hated that. But as Wrecker held him, Hunter's anger never lasted. Now, Wrecker, he wasn't thinking of anything except what he could do to help Hunter. All he could do was hold his brother. It always worked.

But it wasn't working. Hunter tried to force himself away again but Wrecker wasn't going to let him, he couldn't let Hunter be by himself. For better or for worse, Wrecker didn't trust Hunter to be by himself. Not today anyways, all day, Wrecker could tell, his brother was about to shattered, and Wrecker wasn't about to leave Hunter alone with all that glass.

There were good days, when that black little slug hid, for months at a time this slug would sleep, but then there were days, these were the days Wrecker feared most, that this little slug would wake up. Sure, it was always there, even while sleeping, the slug was always there. But when it was awake, eating away at Hunter's heart, Wrecker worried. He worried that one day there wouldn't be anything left except this slug, and he would have failed, he would have lost his brother forever. But his brother would be right in front of him.

He was right in front of him. But this wasn't Hunter, Wrecker wished he could rip that little slug out of his chest and save Hunter from all the pain, but the thing is, that some days, it was easy to forget about. When Hunter's laughing, teasing and making fun, it was so easy for Wrecker to forget that Hunter was in pain. Wrecker hated himself for forgetting, forgetting that even while the sun is shining, there's a storm deep inside his little brother, and there was nothing he could do to save him. Except, love him. But recently, Wrecker was starting to fear, his love was not enough to save them.

"I'm not going to let you go, Hunter, kick me, hit me, please, but I'm not going to let you go." Wrecker promised, that was his promise. Never would Wrecker let Hunter go free into the darkness. Hunter continued to fight against him, using all his strength, but against Wrecker, his strength amounted to that of a child's.

Exhausted, Hunter resigned, he rested his head, taking a shaky breath, his cries softening. Wrecker grew less tense as he took a deep breath of relief. Hoping as a fool Hunter was done. Wrecker should have know, that Hunter would never be done crying, quite impossible would that be, for Hunter to voice all the pain that ripped him apart.

Hunter let out another sob, a softer one, "I wanna die, I don't wanna be here anymore," he babbled as he choked on his tears, gripping Wrecker's arm as if he died if he didn't, so why he didn't let go, Hunter didn't know. "I don't wanna be alive anymore!" He yelled, a sudden burst of energy ran through him as he let out a shriek and hit his head repeatedly into Wrecker's chest as he started to grow tired again. It was exhausting, convincing himself he wanted to live as if he didn't fantasize about his death.

Wrecker shook his head, no, no that wasn't true. Hunter, why do you lie to me? Wrecker frowned knowing he was the liar. And a hypocrite. But this moment wasn't about him, it was about Hunter. "No.." He muttered in a whisper.

"Please kill me, I know you can do it Wrecker, I know you can," Hunter pleaded. Wrecker's heart dropped as he fought every urge to drop his brother in shock. No- no Wrecker wasn't going to hurt him, he wasn't capable of it. But he was. Oh, Wrecker's known all his life, just how capable he was of killing his brothers. Now Hunter was too, and he was begging for him too, "Say we heard a noise, a-a big animal and we didn't have our blasters. So I never stood a chance-"

"Hunter!" Wrecker inturrupted, letting his tone get out of control for only a mere second before collecting himself again, "I can't do that, Hunter, I won't," Wrecker muttered, gritting his teeth as he shoved all that down and pulled Hunter closer. The two went quiet. For a long minute, perhaps they both worried their family would come through the door. Wrecker closed his eyes, listening to Hunter's breathing, it was shaky, but he was breathing.

After a long while, when Hunter's breathing shifted, Wrecker opened his eyes, looking at Hunter. Oh, Wrecker would do anything to make his brother stay, "Please don't ask me to hurt you, again" Wrecker didn't like that his brothers knew that his monstrous strength could ever be used against them. He would never hurt them, he would only ever love them

Hunter looked up, "I'm sorry, I know you love me, I know that Tech loves me, I know that-"

"Hunter," Wrecker interrupted him, "It ain't your fault, it ain't your fault that sometimes dying seems easier than living," He spoke, "I get it, you know we all do, there's nothing wrong with being sad," Hunter nodded as he listened to his older brother, oh he was exhausted. He had closed his eyes, not entirely worrying when Wrecker went silent, he'd start talking again soon, "Even if you never smiled again, we're always gonna love you, I'm always gonna love you."

Hunter opened his eyes, staring at the wall, "You promise? 'Cause I know I'm a lot I wouldn't blame you if you stopped-"

"Hunter," Wrecker cut him off, Hunter looked at him, a desperation in his eyes. Wrecker stared at him with a peculiar look before he fixed his smile and pressed his forehead to Hunter's,

"I'm always gonna love you, I promise."

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[yamithediaperdork]

Crime and Punishment: Jail Bird Diaries (MHA)

Crime and Punishment: Jail bird diaries

*The following is the entries from a diary recovered from the cell of one Katsuki Bakugo after serving his time in the regression jail. certain entry's have been removed as the writing was unable to be made out.*

Week 2, Day 1

So after a fucking week in this stupid fucking hell hole they dare to call a good idea, It's been suggested to me by the stupid AI I have to refer as daddy that I might calm myself down and stop adding time to my stupid fucking sentence if I vent in this stupid fucking book. I pointed out I can barley hold this stupid fucking crayon with the mittens i have to wear but a hand just came out of the wall and patted my head, telling me I'm a clever boy and I'll figure it out. I would of added anther two months onto my sentence right then and there if it wasn't for these fucking glove, even if Maybe kinda sorta..the head pat felt nice. ANYWAYS! to any assholes reading this, expect lots of fucking cursing because daddy said I can swear all i want in here and I have a back flow I need to get out. I mean with all the stupid fucking bull shit I have to put up wi- And fuck me, shitting myself again. fuck this place sucks.

Week 2, Day 2

You just know it's gonna be a shit fucking day Diary when you wake up to the feeling of having a uber load in the seat of your pants patted and rubbed and being praised for being a super good pooper. I'm already not a fan of the super bulky diapers these bastard keep me in but 'daddy' has apparently registered me as a super pooper and states anything thing less wouldn't hold up to my boom booms. refer to my statement about earning more time in here from the last entry for my feelings on THAT! I had figured with the massive bulk of these things at least I wouldn't have to worry about any cutesy outfits save for some t-shirt but since apparently I pissed off god, guess fucking what? No really, Guess. If you guessed they went and adjusted some of the sleepers that all the other big babies in here sleep in to fit over my massive diaper ass then ding ding ding! winner winner chicken dinner. Picture me, a man known as a murder god..and in a blue full body fuzzy care bear style with a white tummy and 'har har' the grumpy bear symbol on the belly. Fucking thing even has a hood! I swear if it wasn't for the fact the thing was soooo soft and kinda comfy, I would of found a way to rip it off. and I don't care WHAT daddy claims, I only dropped right off to sleep in it because he drugged my milk, not because I felt warm and safe. Fuck this place!! I never thought I'd be semi ok with the stupid paw patrol t-shirt and my giga diapers on display.. anyways wrapping this up, apparently I'm having more fucking visitors today. fucking yay..

Week 2, Day 3

Oh my fucking god. yesterday would just NOT fucking stop. apparently it was some sort of official visitors day or some bull shit like that. 4 fucking visitors and three of them not fucking Deku who's trying to make it a point to show up every day as support. first up was mister shock and awe himself Denki. He just couldn't get that stupid grin off his face and kept gushing about how cute I was and how much he wished he could of came in and given me butt pats. I was about ready to snarl that he couldn't when a couple of daddies arms came and took a firm hold on me to keep me from bolting and then the cell door opened up. "Come on in! Katsuki can use all the butt pats he can get. I know he'll act like he hates them but all little guys like him love them." Daddy said. Like, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK! So in from that stupid blond and the door shuts and daddy tells me to turn around and present my rump for pats. Like I was gonna fucking listen to THAT and turned around to tell the speaker box his voice comes from as much and well.. Ok You see my mistake? I swear I was turning to tell daddy off but according to him and Denki I turned around like a good little boy eager for my bum pats and before I could get a god damn word out that's what was happening. talk about major fucking blushing going on and gah, not proud to say this but without a second thought i spread my legs a little so that he could get a better pat going on and it MIGHTA of sorta felt nice for all of 0.0000001 seconds! Daddy and Denki are lying sacks of shit when they say i coo'ed! Basically spent the rest of Denki's visit after that over his lap, getting butt pats and back rubs and being told just how cute I am and how much he prefers me like this. if it wasn't for the fact punching a visitor would of netted me a extra year I woulda slugged him. that the only reason i went along with it..

after a hour he left and Daddy was praising me for being a super good boy and rewarded me with chocolate milk in a bottle instead of the normal formula and put some power rangers instead of paw patrol on TV.  I mighta zoned out holding my bottle with both hands cuz of the mittens and chugging and watching that I didn't notice my next guest till I heard the giggle. whipping my head around and giving me one hell of a neck ache thats still kinda here, I saw what looked like a school girls outfit standing up on it's own and knew it was Tooru. "oh my gosh don't stop because of me! that was sooo cute! I wish they hadn't of taken away my cell phone i would of taken the cutest video!" she gushed and clapped. I held up both hands and because of the mittens she thought I was showing I wanted uppies but I think you know what i was really doing Diary. Of course daddy let her in too and she kept giving me heads and patting my head and asking daddy all sorts of questions about my treatment and like.. ugh. I felt like a toddler getting hugs and attention but ignored while the adults talked. she tugged me onto her lap and kept rocking me and tickling my tummy and it took me awhile to figure out what she was trying to do, she was trying to make me crap myself during her visiting time! well she left half disappointed because even though i was cramping, all i did was wet my diapers so I'll count it as a win. ...that said about 10 seconds after she left I was squatting and totally loading these stupid diapers to the brim.

Thankfully for what tiny bit of pride I've managed to hold onto, while my diaper change took what fucking seemed like forever, I was re-diapered and daddy was in the process of tossing the stinky one when my next guest arrive. because I'm Mr. fucking popular. It was Deku of course and because he's been here so often he's got a special pass that just lets him come in. He was in the middle of saying hi when his nose wrinkled and then he covered it and coughed a little . "oh, somebody just had a diapie change I uh..smell." he said sheepishly. "Oh yeah, little guy is living up to his label as a super pooper." Daddy said. "oh my god freaking stop calling me that!" I whined and uh..Maybe didn't help with trying to give off a big boy image because I was still on the changing table and grabbed a stuffed bear and put it over my face. "oh my gosh, CUTE!" Deku squealed and daddy was laughing. Like..fuck. it's bad enough when the shit they're making me do gets that reaction..then i fucking set myself up for it. getting off of the changing Table me and Deku did our normal catch up and I once again begged him to try and get the other kids in 1-a to stop coming here, telling him about Denki and Tooru. the green haired bastard just told me everyone missed me and wanted to make sure I was doing ok and not to be such a grumpy Gus. I swear I almost took the extra year right then and there. Instead I switched the convo to talking about what was going on at school and what I had missed and yeah.. it was kinda nice catching up a little bit. I hadn't dared asked till now worried it might just trigger a fit that was going to add time on you know? and Deku was nice, not rubbing it in or at least trying not to that they were going on bigger and more exciting field trips and shadowing full on heroes this week. I think it helped that while we talked I started to color in one of the coloring books Daddy provided and Deku joined in, though his picture was colored in a lot better then mine cuz well he has full use of his hands. As his time ran out and it was time for him to go, Deku made me blush like crazy when he asked if he could have the picture I colored to hang up on his wall and asked if I'd color more pretty pictures for him. being at a lost of words, I just nodded my head.

After Deku left daddy said it was time for a quick lunch and then a nap, I was clearly worn out and had one more person to go. I just sighed and went along with it because it's not like I would of really had a say in it anyways. again apparently my behavior for the day was having a effect on my dining choice because while I was put in the same high chair I normally was, instead of yucky baby food I got some cut up chicken nuggets and fries. I wonder how good I'll have to be to score a medium rare steak? anyways, after lunch and a burping I was put down for a nap and woke up to the sound of the door to my nursery prison. I was still groggy and stuff so when I rolled over and looked up to see the face of my mother, i just thought I was dreaming for a second and gave a tiny giggle and ugghhh.. say "hi Mommy." it wasn't till she broke out laughing I realized she was really there. She was..very amused to say the least and told me she had canceled the cruise she was on and flew back home as soon as she could when she'd found out the news. she mentioned that she had been made aware that there WAS a option to give me a form of parole in that I could go and move back in with her for the term of my sentence and she could let me get away with just pull ups and she had been thinking about exercising it..Until she fucking saw me in here and saw how 'natural' I looked like a big baby! I'm...I'm not proud to say I mighta of broken down bawling and begging her to let me come home with her, and ugh.. as I got more hysterical I ended up promising to be the bestest little boy ever. Mom just hushed me and picked me out of the crib I'd been in and hugged me to her chest, patting my squishy bottom (Hey, all the milk i had before going night night, you'd of wet yourself too!) I realize i never covered this before but i had been put down for my nap in just my diapers so there's THAT fun mental picture of me in my booties and mitts and soggy huggies and Mom cuddling me and trying to calm me down. I was bawling and hiccuping when she popped a paci in my mouth and sat down on a rocking chair that daddy provided and with me curled up in her lap rocked back and forth talking about how I had just proven this place was doing wonders for me and then started to ask daddy questions about where to get supplies. curled up close to mommy and hearing her heartbeat.. I..Fell back asleep.

Thankfully no ones coming today, not even Deku since he's busy..I just don't know if I could handle it after yesterday. and yeah, the rest of the day after I fell asleep in mom's lap was just a blur. fuck.. I need to get out of here.

Week 2, Day 6

Know I ignored you for a bit there kinda Diary, I went to write in you but just came out all mixed up and crossed it out. I've mostly docile since Mom's visit and uh..kinda sorta.. I dunno. Kinda wish Deku would come by. I know he's got that big shadowing All might thing going on but..Fuck. I dunno. Daddy keeps going on about me almost hitting a critical point in the program and I don't know about that..I just..I almost wish mom HADN'T of told me about how i could of been at home you know? I was struggling with this before finding that out. I'm spending the day in my sleeper t'day, I just wanna feel all..I don't fucking know.. small and safe? and that helps with it and daddy was more then understanding when I asked to. It just has to come off when I'm eating and stuff and well, semi gone back to the baby food but still getting milk milk. and the baby food is a yummy flavor at least. I dunno Diary, I think thats it for today. Katsuki out.

Week 3, Day 5

Man, looking back on the past couple of entries I did between here and last week and even I can't make out what the heck I wrote. guess a semi recap is in order. Midoriya ended up visiting me during supper on day six of last week and asked if I had any more pretty pictures for him. I hadn't thought I'd actually done any but I guess in the semi daze I'd been in I had and daddy brought them out for him. I told him about mommy visiting and he was really sympathetic and agrees that she shouldn't of told me about the possible parole if I wasn't gonna get it, He had known but well.. knowing my mom like he does had already figured out what she'd picked. He just didn't wanna get my hopes up. Daddy let him take over feeding me and I dunno..it was kinda nice and stuff. we watched a bit of TV after till I started farting lots and Midoriya tactfully left before I ended up going poopies in front of him saying he knew I was in a fragile place and promised to visit the next day. Day 7 was basically the normal same old same old, got out of my sleeper, breakfast and a diaper change then playing with my toys and watching tv till Midoriya showed up. He joined in on a awesome game of Teddies VS Building blocks and I was uh.. kinda giggling like a real little guy and sooo relaxed that I didn't notice something till he brought it up, wrinkling his nose. "Katsuki, did you go poo poo?" He asked. Well, of course I said no because I hadn't felt myself go but then I got a whiff of myself and god, that was sooo embarrassing!! Midoriya ended his visit early as he knows I hate being watched during a change, but told me how much of a good boy I was and that made me blush and smile. After he left and I was all nice and clean from the poopie diaper daddy didn't dress me though, it was time for a bath and a section of the wall opened up and I was led to a fair sized tub and allowed to get in myself. Daddy got me all washed up as the tub filled up and even trusted me without my booties and mittens, though with the wall having sealed up behind me there wasn't really anywhere I could run to. with me all squeaky clean he let me play in the tub for a while as there were some toy boats and a few sea monsters and it was wayyy more relaxing then the quick showers I'm used to. finally when i was all pruney daddy drained the tub and dried me off with a nice fluffy towel and got me redressed though I was mayyybe a little more relaxed then I thought from the tub cuz I took my nap early, and ended up missing a visit from Ojiro. (Daddy said the only reason he'd interrupted my other nap was cuz well, Mom is my real mom.) Is it weird I felt bad he came ALL the way here to see me and couldn't because I was a sleepy little guy? I dunno. Man.. this place is getting to me ya know? basically lather rinse repeat for the next couple of days, being fed, playing with toys, watching cartoons, and filling my diapers. getting to see Midoriya and hand out and yeahh. Yesterday Ojiro tried again and this time I was awake and heh.. he was really nice about it and told me he forgave me already when i whined out a sorry for being asleep the last time. in his own words he really should of called ahead since little guys like me are prone to impromptu naps. After that we played blocks for a little while and he just kept smiling so much and squirming about till daddy asked if he needed to use the potty. Ojiro blushed uber bad which in turn made me giggle like crazy and said no, but took off shortly after. I wonder what was up with him? I tried to ask daddy but he just patted my head and told me to color a picture for Midoriya, so I guess I'll ask him when he comes over today.

Week 3 Day 7

Midoriya just laughed when i asked him my question  and still won't answer it, even after i threatened NOT to make him any more pretty pictures. Daddy and him both found my threat to be funny and cute though so I guess that's good. Denki came to see me again and was all about patting my butt again and playing peek a boo with me.. which Ok. was fun for like a little bit buttt he reallly carried it on for too long but when i said I was getting bored we swapped over to playing with stuffies till his time was up. Well ok, I played with them and told him what was going on and he just smiled and told me how creative I was and made me grin like a dork. I asked HIM about Ojiro's odd behavior before he left and he got a BIG grin on his face and said he'd be back for more details and then daddy scolded me about not sticking in other peoples affairs. I'm so confused. The next day Midoriya was here and something reallly 'brassing happened.. I had gone boom boom once again and He was going to leave..but daddy asked him if he wanted to help change me!!! I don't know who was blushing more, me or him! In any case, after Midoriya helped cleaned my butt up and daddy re-diapered me, He took off all squirmy and blushing and daddy joked about me having a effect on all the boys.. whatever THAT'S suppose to mean. Mommy is coming by later today and I hope I don't spend her whole visit sobbing again like a crybaby.. though daddy said it's ok if I do cuz it's a big part of my rehab.

Week 4 Day 1

Sooo..who's got two thumbs and ended up crying himself to a early bedtime in mommies arms yesterday? THIS guy. she came in as I was having supper and technically it was too late for her to be there but they made a exception. I was already kinda.. whinny.. when it looked like she wasn't going to show but then daddy said she could only be there for half a hour. Mommy explained that she got stuck waiting on a delivery of things she's going to need for me in the future and took over feeding me the rest of my supper while I whined and huffed that I had waited allll day on her. It wasn't till after she had given me my ba-ba in her lap and burped me I thought to ask what she had ordered. She just smiled and told me not to worry about it and to be a good little boy and kissed my forehead and I.. I totally fudged my huggies, in mommies lap. Cue meltdown and I don't even really know why..it's not like I haven't been pooping my pants for awhile now right? I don't know whether it was because I was being held, or who was holding me, or just her reaction as i did it that got to me. "Oh! Somebodies making mommy a present!" with utter delight in her voice and patting my bottom as i kept filling my pampers to the brim. I just..I just started to bawl and sob and buried my face in her shoulder and no matter how much Mommy and daddy told me it was all ok, I couldn't stop. I don't even remember going to sleep or getting a diapie change..I just woke up this morning in my crib in a soggy diaper (Yeah I've become a bed wetter, so what!) and yeahhh.. Daddy says he'll tell me who changed me, him or her when he thinks I can hear it without bawling.

Week 5 Day 5

After holding up for journal for daddy to read, he told me I need to start taking time to calm down and focus before writing, my last couple of entries were all scribbles again. he told it was very cute and brave of me to wanna share it with him though and gave me lots of awesome head pats. I guess since i didn't make sense when i originally gushed about it, i should go back over it. Just shortly after the thing with pooping my pampers in mommies lap, i just started to really like head pats and daddy took notice and has been showering me with them. just makes me all giddy and I've started to lean into them. Midoriya noticed the love of 'em took and started to give'em out! Jirou came by with Asui and it was while I was watching some Micky mouse club house and singing along. I had just went "OH TOODLES!" and heard giggles and clapping and well blushed a bit..but daddies been trying to help me embrace what a little guy I am so I forced a smile then blew a raspberry at them. told'em if they wanted to come in and visit they could, but they had to join in and help Micky out. they giggled but agreed and well for a couple of stinky girls they weren't half bad to hang out with.

They weren't as fun to hang out as Mommy when she came and visited, though I said sorry a BUNCH of times for my fit she just gave me head and butt pats and told me it was all ok. She's been twice since the stinky break down and I've managed NOT to bawl both times for the most part. I mean..i get a little teary when she has to go buttt i get it. wish she could visit more but between work and setting my room up she's been a busy bee. I asked about why she'd hafa set my room up since I always figured after this I'll be going right back to school but she just chuckled and took out the action figures she'd brought from home for me and her to play hero's and villains with. (I mean, don't get me wrong, LOVE the stuffies I have in here, and Midoriya, Denki, Kouda and Tenya have gotten me others..but action figures are sooo much easier to have do cool stuff.) Oh guess i forgot to mention a bunch of boys showed up, Kouda, Tenya, Satou, Eijirou, and ughhh.. Mineta. They showed up as a group with some presents and while 4 of them were all cool and nice.. well, one guess who was a little butt? he actually got me so worked up with his teasing I swore for the first time in ages and daddy had to wash my mouth out but he also banned him from coming back. Back to playing with mommy, it was super fun, she was the evil baddies trying to attack the peaceful stuffie village and I was the heroes saying the day and giggling as i was in just a t-shirt and my uber diapies.  there was slight almost crying moment though while playing with mommy.. I went to lean forward to grab a action figure and just with like.. NO control blorted. It was loud and stinky and I guess I had the cutest look on my face. Maybe asked if I wasn't to stop playing while i finished or keep going and well..I didn't want her to be bored just sitting there watching me go blort. (Blort is a nick name for going poopie I picked up from Ojiro when he visited again, though his butt looked all puffed out and he seemed wayyy more into hugging stuffies then me. eh, go figure) Anyways, we finished up the game and I have having so much fun I MIGHTA pretended I was still blorting even after it was all out so we didn't have to pause again. I know I know, that meant sitting in my own poopie for awhile when I didn't hafa but I'm not really worried about a diaper rash or anything, they use like the best creams and powders here, and well I maybe kinda sorta like the squishy feeling.. though when i told daddy he said that's just because I haven't been able to make a big boy mess in awhile. I'm shocked my hair didn't ignite i was blushing so bad when he said that. Before you even ask diary, I waited till it was just me and daddy ta mention that.. though he hinted mommy had known I was done. He said maybe tomorrow if I'm super duper good today I can get a milking which confused me at first since I don't have boobies.  thennn he explained it out and um yeah.. lots of blushies and gonna try and be on my bestest behavior.

Week 9, Day 3

Sowwy been 'noring you. dis too busy hasing fun wiff everyone. daddy said it's otay though and told me to make at least one last entry in ya. Ummm otay. Sooo Turns out dat Ojiro and Denki are now all dating and kissy face and and Denki was a wanna be daddy dom and the reason Ojiro got all squirmy and silly? he was all jelly of me and my kick butt nursery! Apparently he was gonna -GIGGLE- try and git locked up in here so he could be babied and Denki just spanked his butt RED and pampered him. He's a super good at going blort too, and when they visit we have blort offs. (Score 4-3 in mah favor) Let's see...what else....Oh! Midoriya went and got a part time job as a daycare worker and 'ppently it's at a speical daycare where big babies like Ojiro n me can go, once I get out. kinda silly since i'm gonna be a uber big boy n stuff when i git out butttt daddy is always telling me to be polite sooo i nodded. He's been helping out wiff my diapie changes when he's here and even put in a few volunteer hours here to help out. (Such a good guy!) Mommies been by A LOT more latly too and can't stop gushing bout the appent change in my attuide. she's been bringing in and taking home my action figures cuz her and daddy agreed those are toys for use only under special supervision and I kinda ended up admitting to her I like sitting in my poopies now, at least for like.. umm.. 10 minutes. She just laughed and said noted and that it worked out with one of the additions she put on my room.. whatever dat means. She still wont tell me what she's done or why I'll be going wiff her when I get out, but eh, asking too many questions is a good way to lose a milking and the way daddy does'em.. dun what dat. Ummm I fink dat's everything Diary..fanks fer helping me get though the first bit of life here n being a friend! Daddy asked me to leave you here wiff him when I get out, but he'll print a copy for me and mommy.

After half a year in baby Jail, It was a fair different Katsuki who stepped out then had gone in. and that wasn't just referring to his change in attire. His quirk had more or less been nullified over the course of his treatment via special drugs in his drinks and food though it would return if he weaned himself off of said drug. Katsuki for his part didn't seem to mind since it got him out of his baby mitts and let him use his fingers for fun stuff like finger painting. (though even the daddy AI had learned it was best to strip him to just a diaper when he was painting, the little guy liked to draw on himself and had a massive fit when daddy had washed a turtle he'd drawn on his tummy off before he could show Midoriya.) He didn't even seem to mind that he'd been released in his now familiar bulky diaper and one of his many baby tops, wearing a pair of Winnie pooh socks and sneakers and holding onto his mom's hand as he was checked out. The warden smiled and waved bye bye to him as he was signed out and Katsuki semi hide behind his mom but waved bye back and then they were heading home.

"so Um..Mommmmmy?" Katsuki asked, sitting in the back seat of mommy's car, buckled into a customized car seat just for his puffy diaper butt. "whatttty?" She asked, looking back at him via the rear view mirror and smirking. "Can you tell's me now why we're going back home and not ta school? Like..is it so I can get's my big boy clothes on?" he asked, kicking his legs ideally. "welll you've missed most of the school year as is, there's no way you'll be able to catch up. so it's been agreed that you'll just take the rest of the year off and stay with me. and Besides, you need to re-potty train buddy." his mom pointed out. "...no i don't. I can hold it." Katsuki huffed, blushing and hugging one of the stuffies he'd been able to take with him and holding it to his chest. "Katsuki..what don't good little boys do?" She asked him. "...Lie." he huffed and looked down. "and what was that you just did?" "..Lied Mommy..I sowwy.." Katsuki said and he just looked SO sad and had tears welling up. "It's ok sweetie. Mommy isn't mad. but you need to tell the truth so you can have lots and lots of head pats ok?" she said quickly. "O-Ok..I..I guess..Maybe i kinda don't have pee control anymore..but I mostly know when i hasa blort." Katsuki said. "Mhhhmmm..well we'll be keeping you in your diapies for awhile and working you back up to be kid undies for the fall unless you decide you like being mommies little guy." "pffft, wike I'll PICK ta stay like this.." he huffed and squirmed. "Well if you do..a lot of what mommies been doing while you've been in there is baby proofing the apartment and turning your room into a nursery like the one you've been in, just no daddy though." "I..wait..wut?" Katsuki asked, and squirmed. "Yup, a changing table, a crib..I got you a high chair and got a baby bouncer for you because daddy told me it's your favorite way to make big boy messes after you've blorted." She giggled. Katsuki was squirming BIG time now in the back seat, and ended up popping his paci into his mouth and sucking on it big time and hugging his stuffie to his face. "oh it's ok sweetie. Mommy knows a growing boy like you has your needs. Just make sure to get mommies help if you wanna go bouncy bouncy ok?" She asked. The poor red faced boy couldn't speak, just suckled and nodded lots. the old Katsuki would of had a bitching fit and blown his way out of the car and stormed off..but Baby Katsuki just realized maybe just because he was out of baby jail..didn't mean he wasn't still a baby. 'I'm not a jail bird anymore..this is gonna be a longggggg summer..' He thought and then sucking on his paci and the noise of the car and vibration of it, drifted off to sleep like the big baby he was.

The end

[stardusttrashed]

Football Coach Part 20

Previous Part

Pairing: Calum x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warning: Angst

Weeks had passed since that night- the drunk decisions that piled on top of each other. Calum was practically attached to your hip. His hands made your body their new home, always settling on you intentionally and unintentionally. Evermore so since he officially moved in; boxes unpacked, apartment sold, the whole nine yards. 

Calum squeezed your hip, pulling himself closer to you, “I promise we don’t need to buy a whole new dresser, love.” 

“Mhm-- just like how we didn’t need to buy you extra hangers when you kept stealing mine. You’re so full of s-- stuff.” You looked down at D’artagnan with an apologetic smile, thankfully he paid no attention to your close slip up. 

“What ‘bout that one?” D’artagnan pointed at the chestnut dresser displayed in the quaint and cozy room display.  The sky blue decorations contrasted the primarily black furniture. 

You twisted yourself, turning to face Calum with an expectant look. His eyes roamed over the room before finally landing on the dresser. He was gorgeous under the Ikea lights- so relaxed and natural, domestic even. His peach lips parted just enough for a quiet sigh to slip past. The caterpillar brows forever resting on his face- furrowed in concentration. The bridge of his nose highlighted by the fluorescent lights hanging overhead. 

“It’s nice, good pick bubs.” Despite the encouraging smile on his face, you could detect the hesitation hidden in his chocolate eyes. “But maybe we should wait for a little-- y’ know to give mommy here time to make more room for me.”

“But it’s bigger than the one she has now,” D’artagnan pressed on, adamant on helping. Anything he could do to ensure Calum was completely settled into the house he did. He was probably the most excited out of the three of you that Calum was moving in. It was like a constant sleepover, interrupted by various kissing and ‘alone time’ between you and Calum, but still just as fun.

“I was thinkin’,” you interrupted D’artagnan in a gentle voice, “since you’re getting taller and all- why don’t you go pick out another bed?”

D’artagnan looked up at you beaming with excitement, “really?”

“Really really, Calum and I will be right behind you.” You held the basket steady and he clambered over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping out. You waited until he took off around down the aisle before completely turning to face Calum. “What’s up with you lately? You’ve been.. Distant.” You poked your finger into his chest as you looked up at him. 

“Distant eh,” Calum chuckled as he looked down, the space between you barely enough for a piece of paper. 

You groaned, rolling your eyes at his cocky grin.“You know exactly what I mean Calum. You hang back whenever we go out together where someone from the team might see. I try to get you to settle in, no more bags or boxes, and you put on this fake face like you’re only doing it to spare my feelings. You change the topic whenever I say we should tell D’artagnan and our families about our engagement. If-,” you let out a deep sigh to steel your nerves. “If you’re having second thoughts about moving in with us, just tell me. I can make up something so D’artagnan won’t know, just-.”

“No, no, no. It’s nothing like that.” He cupped your cheek gently, grazing your skin with his thumb as he pulled you closer. “I love living with you and I’m sorry. I was trying to find the right time or way to tell you but I got a call from my coach. Our season is supposed to start and he- well he wants me to be team captain.”

“That’s great news Calum!” 

Your beaming smile only made it harder to continue his announcement. Calum sighed and broke his gaze from your momentarily. “Pay wise, yeah it is- I’d be able to spoil you and D’artagnan more. But.. we’d, my team and I, we’d be going all around the country and if we make it far enough, out of the country.” You let out a quiet ‘oh’. “I have two days  to decide and our season starts next week.”

“What ‘bout the misfits?”

“I know-.”

“The tournament- who’d coach them Calum?”

“I don’t know. If I took the position I’d wouldn’t be able to coach them through the championship.”

As much as you wanted to avoid thinking selfishly, but you couldn’t help it. It had been nearly two weeks since that so-called phone call. “When were you going to tell me,” your voice wavered. “Or were you going to even tell me at all?” You narrowed your eyes at him, your heart teetering the line of being upset and being hurt. 

“Of course I was going to tell you-.”

“How silly of me, of course, you were- not like weeks had passed since you found out. Or like we’ve had plenty of alone time or anything.” A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Anything else you’ve ‘been meaning’ to tell me, or do I have to wait again.”

“Why are you overreacting like-” the words left his mouth before he could even completely process them. “Y/n, that’s not... I-.” He could see the hurt in your eyes slowly transform to an annoyance like a switch being flipped, your glare unwavering. 

“You’re completely right, I’m going to overreact over there,” you pointed in the direction D’artagnan had run off in for emphasis. “You’re welcome to join us, if not then I’ll just call you when we’re ready to leave.” You turned to leave before stopping yourself, “actually I’d probably have to think about when the right time to tell you would be.”

The car ride home was dragged out due to the awkward air hanging- not even the radio could help. D’artagnan focused on the blur of buildings outside of the window, oblivious to the situation. Or maybe he was simply ignoring it. Calum thought maybe the air would be lighter once you arrived at the house but if anything it got worse. His mumbled sorry’s only added weight to the already heavy air. It was crushing him, drowning him. You simply held your breath- wallowing in the brutal atmosphere. It wasn’t even the fact that he said you were overreacting. You wallowed over the fact that he practically hid something from you. That he seemed okay leaving without a warning. What if he decided to do the same randomly? What if one day you wake up and he’s just not there anymore?

You sat on the bed with your knees to your chest. Your thoughts raced a thousand miles per second, flipping back and forth between the situation, what if’s, and desperate attempts to keep yourself from crying.

“I’m taking the spot,” Calum’s voice interrupted your train of thought. He leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, his eyes scanning you for a reaction. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want you to make some sort of protest. Instead, all he received were your steady glassy eyes. He sighed and stepped into the room, trudging through the air that left him heavy-hearted and breathless. Your eyes focused on his movements, watching his hands move like slugs in syrup as he packed a small suitcase. “And I- I figured it’d be best to give you some space.”

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath. Calum brushed aside your actual words- far too relieved to hear your voice again. The simple hour or so felt like an eternity of solitude. “How am I supposed to sleep without your cuddles? And who’d  Dart quietly mess with when I don’t want to wake up?”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” Calum chuckled nervously.

“Of  course you didn’t, idiot.” You crawled to the edge of the bed, pulling him towards you with the waistband of his pants. “I’m still not happy that you waited so long to tell me.”

“I know sweetheart and I promise I’ll make it up to you, starting now.” He nuzzled the tip of his nose against yours, his breath fanning over your lips. He could finally breathe again. Finally graced with your fragrance. He spent every single bit of his breath kissing you- drowning in the only way he felt was proper. “I love you… entirely.”

“Show me.” You melted into his kiss, determined to ingrain the feeling of him into every bit of your mind. Your mind took every piece of him it could, bottling it up to save for a rainy day. 

“I will sweetheart. I promise. But not until I tell  Bub, he deserves to know I’m leaving.”

“You’re what?!” 

You whipped your head toward the door just in time to see the stuffed animal D’artagnan was holding drop to the floor. 

“Is that why you were quiet in the car,” he shouted, the hurt in his eyes deepening with each passing second. “You can’t leave! You can’t! What about our team? We worked hard  like you said!”

Calum slowly walked over to him, squatting down to his eye level. “I don’t want to, but-.”

“Then don’t,” D’artagnan stated blatantly- his voice startling you and Calum. “We made it this far! We can’t give up.” He stared down Calum with glassy brown eyes, unable to form any more words. How could he? How could Calum lead the team this far and abandon them? How could he abandon him?

“You know you and the team mean so much to me.”

“Then don’t leave! You can stay here and coach us.”

“If I go then I’ll be able to take more care of you and your mummy. I can buy you more toys and take you on trips.”

“You can do that if you stay! I can sell my toys- I’ll-.”

“Dart,” you cooed sadly as you clamber over to him. His small frame felt so fragile in your arms. “We’ll make it work okay. If he goes we could go on trips and watch Calum play. Maybe you’d even meet some of your favorite players. Trust me he’s not doing it to hurt you or the team.”

“I-’m goin’ outside,” he mumbled as he slipped out of your arms, gently pushing you away. Without another word he walked off, eyes focused on his shuffling feet. The closing door brought a new wave of heavy silence. 

“Guess I’m on a roll with making you guys upset today, huh,” Calum awkwardly joked. You let a forced chuckle. “I can try to talk to him-- if you want.” He looked over at you with hopeful eyes. You knew seeing D’artagnan like this hurt him just as much as it did you. Calum loved him, sometimes more than he loved you.

“I got this one,” you finally replied after a minute. Each step you took toward the back door was like stepping with bricks tied to your feet. You had to be careful about how you went to him right now. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You plopped down beside him on the platform swing causing it to sway gently. His eyes shifted over to you as he shrugged nonchalantly. 

Moments passed where the only thing that greeted your ears was the breeze and sounds of birds. You forced yourself to keep quiet, absentmindedly scratching the mesh on the swing. D’artagnan did the same, using the sound to keep his mind off the thought of Calum leaving. 

“I- is there something wrong with me?”

Your face twisted into a frown“Why would you ever think  such a thing baby?” 

He shrugged again, “I dunno.” He kept his eyes on the mesh. “Everyone seems to leave,” his voice wavered. “All the time.”

“I haven’t.”

“You’re different. I don’t know, it’s stupid. Nevermind.” He shook his head, his curls slapping his forehead. “I don’t want Papa to go, he promised he wouldn’t. I don’t want him to be like my dad… I like having Calum around.”

“And I like having you around.” Calum’s voice startled you both, nearly causing D’artagnan to fall off the swing. Calum let out a melodious laugh before running over to stabilize D’artagnan. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or interrupt. I just wanted to tell you I love you, Bub. I love you and your Mummy. You guys are definitely one of the best things that have happened to me. I don’t plan on leaving either of you any time soon, okay?” He took a break to kiss D’artagnan’s forehead. “And if you want me to I’ll stay here.”

D’artagnan shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip, “go.” The words took Calum off guard. He had prepared a whole speech expecting to have to call his coach and deny the position. “Just- just promise you’ll come back. Mummy can coach the team, we’ll be okay. And I can help around the house when you’re gone. But you gotta come back… please.”

Calum searched his wide brown eyes brimmed with tears. Was that really what he was worried about? What they worried about? “Always. I’m never going to abandon you or your Mummy,” he made sure to look at you briefly before refocusing on the kid. “You’re my family and I want to be there for you all I can.” 

Tears streamed down D’artagnan’s cheeks and were fighting to make their way out of your eyes as Calum wrapped his arms around the both of you. He felt like a blanket fresh out the dryer, his warmth providing a blanket of safety around the pair of you. His secure yet gentle hold tole you everything you needed to know. You felt foolish for doubting he’d stay earlier. He was here for you and D’artagnan, right now, tomorrow, and as long as he possibly could be. 

[beccarooni]

A Rock and a Hard Place

(A.N: The Korg & Thor friendship fic you never knew you needed. Tag list: @damm-darcy, @we-stan-bruce-ban, @lunaseleneyueiahchandramoon9696) 

“So, I think I figured it out.” 

The sofa creaked as Korg sat down, wooden frame protesting loudly to the solid ton of rock and hawaiian-print fabric that had plonked itself down next to him. 

The first few days, it had been difficult living with his chosen flatmates. It wasn’t that they weren’t nice, far from it, in fact. Korg was one of the most genuinely polite people he’d ever met, and that baffled him - it was all too rare to begin a friendship with someone these days that didn’t start in a near-murder. 

And Miek was...well, Miek was a slug with knives for hands but he still managed to be weirdly courteous, always chirping brightly when someone or other walked into the room. 

But, seeing them, anyone from Sakaar really was like a daily blaring alarm that those events had happened. Thor could drown out the burning flames of Asgard’s foundations with as much alcohol as he could get his hands on - but it was remarkably difficult to drown out someone who’d been there with him. 

So he’d chosen his own way of blocking out the world, for the first few days, at least. Had barely left his room, hadn’t so much as drawn back the curtains for fear of what lay outside. A fishing town, and the few survivors of his people mingling with the locals. 

A sight that should’ve been one of hope. Of new beginnings, fresh starts and whatever whatever whatever. 

And partially, it was. He was proud of them for adapting, until the reasoning snuck up on him as to why they were adapting. Why their way of life had been ripped from them, why they’d had to start anew. 

Seeing an Asgardian in a polo-neck jumper was funny, until you remembered that that was because their old clothes had burned in the fires of Asgard. 

It had taken a week for him to get used to it all. And even then, leaving his house before nightfall was a no-go. But Korg, he could get used to. 

And so when he sat down, the gentle lilt of his voice breaking through whatever haze Thor had managed to push himself into, he could offer him a small nod in greeting.

“Figured what out?”

Korg glanced briefly towards the TV Thor was supposedly watching, lacing his fingers together in an almost nervous manner. 

Korg was nervous. That was new. 

“Why you keep me and Miek around. Or, y’know - why you asked to room with us. Instead of Brunn.”

Thor frowned, lifting the bottle back up to his lips. 

“I roomed with you two because I like you. Do you not think that I like you?” 

“No, no, man. It’s not that. We know you like us - and hey, we like you too, so that’s all good there.” Korg paused, a few stray pebbles crumbling to the floor as the giant pushed his expression into something Thor hadn’t really noticed in him before - worry. 

Korg was famously optimistic. Infamously, would be a better word for it. From what few Sakaarians he’d managed to talk to back on the Statesman, he’d just always been like that. Always seen things from a brighter point of view, always trying just that little harder to make things better - even if trying was just a kind word, here and there. 

It put him in Thor’s good books, at least. A giant with the descriptive talent of Asgard’s finest bards was a good friend to have when you were with people that were low on morale. Korg had been kind enough to tell stories each night, to those that wanted to hear them. 

Thor had never expected to see Asgardians smiling again, and yet, there they were. On a dingy spaceship with dwindling supplies, laughing at a story told by a Koronan. 

Said Koronan coughed to grab his attention, and he involuntarily tensed at the feeling of cold stone fingers lightly brushing his shoulder. 

“It’s just that, I think you think we don’t know you well enough to ask questions. Like Brunn would - y’know, the whole ‘are you ok’ and ‘have you drank water today’ and all that kinda stuff. And I just feel like you should know that we do care, Miek and me.” 

Thor’s brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to piece together what was being said to him. 

“I...I met all of you on the same day, Korg. I know you just as much as I know her.”

“No, it’s different - I’m not explaining this right, sorry. It’s just...it’s like this,” 

Korg moved forward a touch, directly into Thor’s eyeline, so he couldn’t look away. 

Which made Thor nervous, because why would he want to look away? What was Korg planning to say that was so important Thor had to look at him? 

“You and Brunn are from the same place, right? And even if you don’t know each other on a more personal level, you still know each other - like, when you say something and she looks at you and she gets it - like that sort of know,”

Okay, so far he was following.

And Korg wasn’t wrong, exactly. Thor and Brunnhilde had a...something. They had a something. He wasn’t sure he could call it a friendship. 

Maybe it had been, once. Maybe it could’ve been something more. 

But he figured he’d blown that chance by spending a month not talking to her. Or anyone. And Norns, what a waste. 

Fighting side by side with her, facing down Hela, it had felt..right. Noble, even. Like for a moment, for this one part in the worst week of his life, he’d felt like Thor again. Fighting alongside a noble warrior, a Valkyrie. 

It had been the first time in years that he felt his younger self would’ve been in awe of who he’d become. 

And now, Brunnhilde was leading the Asgardians. While he languished in a cell of his own making. 

 Korg continued carefully, piecing each word together like it was a delicate pattern being woven together on a loom. 

“But Miek and me, we’re just sort of your buddies. And that’s fine, I like being your buddy. You’re a cool guy, y’know? But it’s a more surface level thing. Like we’ll just play this game and eat pizza and only talk about the weather or something.” 

Thor sighed, setting down his bottle to try and gauge more of a reaction out of those features of stone

“I’m not following. You think that I chose to stay with you two because I don’t know you?”

“I think you chose us because you think we won’t ask how you’re doing - because we don’t know you well enough. And that’s just...that’s not true, man. Miek can’t really ask - ‘cause he’s not really got a mouth - but he can listen. And I can do the asking.” 

Ah. 

So that was it. That was what had gotten Korg so worked up that he’d heard him pacing the floorboards moments before he’d joined him on the sofa.

Korg - like everyone else, it seemed - was worried. About him. 

Half of the universe had died, and Korg was worried about him.

He didn’t know why it filled him with a feeling of something volatile, and that just made things worse. 

It had been so long since someone had worried about him. Hadn’t he spent the better half of his childhood wondering if Odin had ever spared a passing thought of concern for him? When he’d scraped a knee on the playing grounds, or been struck with a sword during a battle, hadn’t he sat up in the healing wing of Asgard wondering why people just seemed to assume he was fine with it all? 

Hadn’t he wanted this? A secret, shameful thing - a craving, to just be treated not as a golden prince, not as an avenger, but just someone? 

And now that it was happening, all he could think of was that this was wrong. He shouldn’t be pitied. Shouldn’t be cared for. He should be out there, strong as the mountains, and yet he was stuck in here and he was afraid and tired and so, so angry. 

At Thanos. At himself. At the Norns for letting him survive this far. 

He stilled the storm inside with a clenched jaw, knocking back the rest of the beer and setting the bottle down just that bit too loudly. 

”I don’t need listening to, Korg. So what if I just want to hang out? Is that bad? Don’t I deserve to just hang out after everything I’ve been through?”

“No, no, this isn’t...that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that we can hang out - play video games, order takeout, whatever. All of that. But I’m not just gonna not ask if you’re ok sometimes.”

And suddenly Korg was that much closer, and the cold stone was warm on his shoulder. And it was that much clearer why Korg was the leader of a revolution.

Because who else could it be, really? Who else could be kind enough to band together a group of gladiators, a ragtag gang of bandits and thieves and whoever’s from across the stars, and get them to fight for one common good? 

Pamphlets or no, Thor got the sense that one or two people had pledged their lives the second the words ‘Hi, my name’s Korg’ had reached their ears. 

He got the sense that he was going to be one of those people, by the end of this conversation. 

“I know you’re a big time hero, and you probably save people all the time, and tossing a gun to a gladiator might not be something that stuck in your memory - but it stuck in mine. You kinda kick-started the revolution that freed me. It’s sort of the reason that I can walk up to people and say: hey, my name’s Korg, and not whatever name they gave me back on Sakaar,” 

Korg sighed, a strange sound, like the scattering of pebbles across a lake, and let go of Thor’s shoulders with a small shake of his head.  

“You do that sort of thing and you’ve got a friend, friend.” 

Thor’s throat felt uncomfortably tight all of a sudden, and it was pretty much all he could do not to cry then and there. Instead, he reached out with one hand, doing his level best to clasp Korg’s shoulder - although it was a little painful on the fingers. 

“Thank you. I don’t...I don’t really know what to say.”

Korg grinned back at him, the tension in his shoulders falling - and the sofa creaking further as he relaxed back into it. 

“You don’t have to say anything, buddy. I’m not gonna pry about your past life too much - ‘cause it’s, y’know, personal - but I’m gonna at least ask about your present. The stuff I’m here for.” 

Thor sniffed, quickly wiping at the sides of his eyes with a soft chuckle. 

“That was weirdly profound.”

“Hey, thanks man.” 

Korg glanced around, large fingers fumbling for a controller as the screen in front of them flickered to life. 

“You wanna play some Fornite?” 

Thor shrugged, reaching for a second controller, the weight of it oddly reassuring in his hands. 

“Sure.”

[maikatc]

Black Sun Tale | Monsters

now, here’s the aftermath of the mess that unfolded last week. then next week will be the end of part ii! i hope that these last two chapters are worthwhile for the poor hearts that i probably harmed earlier on. 

remember that this is a first draft with only minor edits, but enjoy! comments and reception are heavily appreciated. 

-

The sight stroke him as relatively familiar: one of Oliver in his view, cardigan blanketed around him along with bloody stains upon his mouth and hands. A bag hid behind his coat, however the smallest of a trail of blood from behind could never help. His shoulders trickled downwards and eyes drooped without any of his light shining. The expression and stance were never new, all of his experiences with Oliver culminated at that one moment, and that was the problem. 

With his small request, Ayu shut his mouth for his words as he slugged his way over to sit next to him. He sat crisscrossed, and cupped his entire face in his hands.  

Out of context, the situation left Ayu baffled in his seat as he shuffled. But the concern overwhelmed him to a necessity. 

“Oliver, what ha-”

“Tell me how was your day,” he whimpered and stopped him. 

Ayu tensed himself at the cracking voice. “But-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he breathed. His hands brushed away from his face which then revealed cold sweats and whimpering brows. 

He was able to read the face, and avoided them in attempted respect. Dawdling in his blanket, he whispered, “It’s important, isn’t it?”

“… No.” 

Creeping away from the covers, a hand of his swept onto the roof of Oliver’s. The blood had dried, yet suspicions still arose. He then lifted up the sleeve, despite it not being the left. No attention was paid to Oliver’s reaction, yet he continued, only to find the healing bruises and scratches left behind. “Is it really not important?”

Oliver swatted himself away. “Don’t remind me.” 

Ayu flinched at his own actions, creeping his own hand back to the blanket. “Sorry…” 

Whipping his head back, Oliver softened. “Don’t say sorry, just-” He paused. “Tell me about whatever you wrote… or who you talked to, what you dreamed about…”

In hesitance, he hopped with his cover, directing himself at the boy. He leaned over to him without any movement of the hands “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do that.” Making sure to dart back into his eyes, Ayu asked, “Please say something that happened.”

Oliver’s stern face grew. “I might throw up from it.”

“That bad then, huh?” He sighed, brows still tight between each other. “I want to hear something… but I can wait.” He back down from him.

“And I wanna hear something from you, and I can’t.”

“Yeah.” Itching the back of his head, comforted in the mild weather, he stumbled to where he should have left off. “… Annette came over today.”

“…”

“Oliver?”

“I’m listening.”

“Okay,” Ayu muttered. “I… think she felt bad about being busy, so she gave me a music player.” He lifted the MP3 to attention.

Oliver chuckled after a pause for no real reason. “Continue.”

Nodding, “She said she got a new one and wanted to give me her old one. But she told me to pick a type of music I like so she can get more of that for me.”

“… You mean… genre, right?” Oliver squinted at the word.

“Right.” 

“And… what genre are you liking right now?”

The vocabulary raced to the front of his mind but failed to reach in time. Ayu shrugged at the failure. “Fancy old music?”

“Classical?”

He nodded. 

“You don’t seem like the type to like classical.” Oliver’s words flowed softly, the power and attitude drained from prior. 

“What did you think?”

“… Punk? I don’t know, something you’d think is ‘cool’.”

“True, but it’s relaxing.” Ayu twirled an earbud. “Feels like it might help me sleep.”

“… God, I miss that.” Oliver snatched up the device and instantly opened it. “What songs do you have? – You have Mondlicht?”

“The pretty one?”

“The one I need to listen to right now.” He connected himself to the music with one ear and unfurled his shoulders. However, it merely managed to shake him up. 

“What’s wrong?” He crawled over.

He hiccupped, “I feel like I forgot what it sounds like that isn’t stupid humming.”

“The piano?”

“… Music.” 

Ayu’s heart dropped with a rhythm or rhyme. The possibility of him forgetting a sound, even the thought of his masterful sound, deemed itself as unheard of in his head. Yet he shut his mouth, zipping and locking in commitment as a friend. 

Oliver peeped out of the sound. “The music is helping, Ayu. Thanks.” 

“You grabbed it yourself,” he said. 

“Then thanks for not stopping me.”

Ayu silenced his words.

Oliver plugged in the other earbud. “You wanna ask again, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do.”

After some time, Oliver let out a breath to himself. He scooted up closer to Ayu all of a sudden. Sights glued onto the screen yet eyes lowered, Oliver muttered, “Let me listen a bit more. And don’t leave…” He looked up to Ayu. “Is that fine?”

“Yeah, why would I leave?”

“I dunno. A lot of people did.” 

In an attempt, Ayu laughed off the pressing conversation. “Half the things you say always make me worried.” 

He said nothing. 

Ayu adjusted his blanket, embarking the silence now met with someone else. He kept his composure as the idea of watching eyes daunted him every second. Ignoring the blood, his journal captured his attention and ached to be back in his hand. However, the goal was not to leave, he reminded himself. Leaving Oliver from attention likely stayed a key factor in the message. 

Best not to run away from the problem this time. 

An idea of what happened never conjured up in Ayu’s mind considering his simple heart. If anything, a hard beating– what if it was him? He never recalled any terrible moments lately but bruises made it plausible. Besides a simple wish messes everything over, so it would be an additional fee, would it not? –

Plop. 

His eyes widened ever so slightly at the new pressure on his shoulder. It shuffled at every other beat of life while Ayu found it to be Oliver laying against his blanket. Sleeping quickly along with the growing night sky, Ayu coincided by freezing instead. 

He studied him. The earphones still tugged snugly in his ears, though barely with any noise of a gentle guitar. His composure lost itself completely yet no snores rocked from him, albeit in a short time. But then, there were the eye bags underneath the covering lashes, and the memory of the now soulless color of an iris. 

Ayu relaxed his tense bones, hopefully to Oliver’s comfort. He probably needs it. Chucking in his mind, he drifted a hand to cover up the sleeper’s bloody ones. Staring without any other goal in mind, Ayu smiled at the restful face. “You’re probably cold,” he whispered. And in the quietest of moments, he wrapped his blanketed arm around Oliver’s shoulder in the fall evening. 

Together, they enjoyed their first quiet moment. 

***

Burning lids drifted awake as a soft melody hummed against close earphones. Ayu lifted his head up from a nap it seemed, a nice one at that. Only engines and smoke purred, nothing alerting him. He itched up, rubbing his eye away from his cover. Then he realized his other arms was unable to cover his stretching yawn.

It was only then he recalled what had happened before falling asleep. 

He shivered at the reminder that Oliver still slept beside him, however he began flickering up his own composure as well. 

Oliver stirred on the bony shoulder and arm, fluttering awake without much peace in the eyes for long. His focus wandered until meeting Ayu’s, and immediately jumping out of the blanket. 

A blush was unknown, with the blood hiding whatever could be found on his cheeks. 

Ayu blinked, but smiled all the same at a lively reaction. “Are you feeling better?”

He tilted his head. “What?... Oh fuck.” Swathing his hand over to his face, he hissed out, “I forgot for a second.” 

“Did it get worse again?”

“No,” Oliver stammered. “I think it’s… actually blurring.”

Ayu nipped his cheek, context screaming for a need. “Can you,” he gulped dry air, “explain, now?”

In the corner of Ayu’s sight, Oliver’s hands fumbled to increase the volume of whatever was playing. “I think a little.”

The words rang out with reluctance, though Ayu knew why. Regardless, he scooted his head fully to Oliver’s attention, keen to listen, and keen to help. 

Oliver’s mouth opened ever so slightly yet a word struggled to reach out from the opening. His brows ruffled up and tugged back and forth with all the changing expressions while a sentence had not even started. Until, “I was stuck in a dark room by myself for a while. To starve and learn how to eat.”

His heart pulsed. “For how long?”

“… Two weeks, I’m pretty sure. I didn’t have anything to tell except voices.”

As the concept burned in his own stomach, Ayu gripped his fists and abandoned the blanket. “So, you were left to die for that long,” he asked, a cold rasp lying behind. 

“Yeah…”

His heart pounded with an unknown sense of feeling. The underlying idea that this was always his fault tugged him in the chains of his mind. Though, instead of growing fists or the slightest of a scream. He snatched up his pencil and jabbed it towards the wall, puncturing it deeply. 

He huffed from the aggression, with only another idea following. “Who was it?”

“Ayu–”

“Was it Alice?”

Oliver lowered his head. “Well, yeah kinda– but no, it was someone else.” 

“Then who?” His eyes burned furiously as his rasp grew more intense. 

It took some time. After some shuffling and breathing, Oliver said softly, “Her name was Margaret.”

“And why did Margaret think this was a good idea?”

“She didn’t find anything wrong with it, as stupid as that is.” 

The pulse of the moment slowed in Ayu. He sighed, “Okay… when is the next time I can see her?”

Oliver perked his expression. Concerning, he asked, “Ayu, why do you want that?”

He twitched a little. “She trapped you in there. And probably killed people without feeling bad or anything… She’s a monster, right? She’s like the rest of them…” A drive overrode his reason.

Oliver shook his head. “Ayu, don’t tell me you’re–.” He paused, unable to finish.

“She- she should be treated like the rest of the monsters.”

In a rush, Oliver grabbed his shoulder. “Ayu, don’t kill her. It’s not gonna do anything–”

The drive spoke for him. “It isn’t like I’ll live trying.” 

Oliver himself froze up, his mouth growing agape as he quietly muttered, “Ayu…” His expression collapsed. “Stop.” 

With his cry, Ayu softened from adrenaline. Though he still pursued. “It’ll make everything better,” he said. “She’ll be gone and I probably will too, and that’ll fix up a lot.”

“No, Ayu. That’s a terrible idea.” He let go of him. “You shouldn’t leave… If anything, I should.”

And with that, the drive disappeared immediately. “Wait no–”

“It’d be easier to kill me first off. Besides, they can all change somehow, right? I can’t…”

“No, Oliver…”

“I go and kill without literally any thought. And I like it.”

Ayu shook his head. “What? No, you don’t.”

“Don’t deny it,” he spat. “I drink my own blood because it tastes good. I lick off the blood on my fingers whenever I eat because it’s delicious. And I fucking ate a piece of flesh without a second thought, and it was the best thing I’ve ever had… I’m just like them.”

His lips pulled its hardest to a smile but failed. “No- no you aren’t, Oliver.”

“Ayu,” he said. “I’m a fucking monster. You know this out of anyone.”

Words were not processed for a reply on that, most definitely. 

Oliver sighed. “I still wanna eat,” he stated. He gestured his head towards the item he carried before. “It’s right there in the bag and I can still smell it.”

The blood appeared more poignant than prior at that moment. 

“It was too good…”

Ayu gulped, pushing down from gagging. However, he fought against it nonetheless. “Oliver,” he spoke again, “you’re just–”

“Exactly.”

“No!” He let out. “You’re just you and– sure, some things can suck but it isn’t your choice.”

“… You don’t know that.”

“But I do.” He proclaimed, “I know you don’t want to hurt people. You’d never try on purpose…”

Oliver’s reply remained at nothing. A laughing group of teens passed by before he asked with the tiniest voice, “Are you scared of what I can become…?”

But the truth welled over. “Terrified.”

In a second, Oliver smiled at the confession. “Well then, I’m sorry if I ever go too far.”

“I’m sure you won’t.”

… The street’s music welled up over them. Cradling their conversation that had seemed to stop, they listened to it all in its natural glory. The engines’ hum and tiny families’ giggles rung in their background. A blur of conversations overlapped between one another to a messy song. 

Oliver’s smile stayed a while. To the point that he kindly told Ayu, “Thank you.”

“For what?” I screwed up at almost all of this today. 

He answered, “For… everything pretty much.”

Ayu raised a brow. “Why everything?” 

“I like having you around,” Oliver admitted. “I can’t kill you and you’re… nice.” 

“I’m pretty dumb, though.” 

“That’s what makes you fun,” he laughed. “Besides, I’m smart, so I can help you with that, can’t I?”

Ayu pouted, “But I don’t like learning.” 

“That’s why you can’t read.” 

“Shut up!” 

Oliver began laughing more at him at the expense of Ayu’s embarrassment. His crossed his arms, tossing back over his blanket in the process. 

“One day I’ll make you read a textbook, then. Is that a good plan?”

“Of course, not.” 

As they bantered together, the street lights began to flicker to Oliver’s notice. He checked the iPod and gasped, “Holy shit, it’s eight.” He stumbled up. “I need to get back home and–” He stared down at his hands and grimaced. 

“Clean up?”

“Yeah…”

Ayu asked, “Where are you gonna put the bag?”

“I’ll hide it somewhere.” He joked, “If I can hide an entire switchblade, I can hide a bag.”

Ayu stammered, “You have a switchblade?”

Oliver blinked. “Oh yeah. I do. But we don’t have time for that now.” He dashed up to the front with the bloody bag in his hand. 

Without a second thought, Ayu yelled out, “We’re gonna have to at some point,” as Oliver ran off. A goodbye was heard in the distance, but Ayu was not pleased. 

He muttered a goodbye back, but only with a grumble. And he was met yet again with the cold for the night. 

-

Ten Dollars | Bread and Water | Red Eye | Crimson Capture | November 1st | A Mother | A Demon | A Child | The Wolf | Bloody Fingers | A Monochrome World | The Pocketwatch | I’ll Have My Day | Two Weeks | Next >>>

[orsino-the-enchanter]

Excercises In Futility

...or an one-shot featuring the musings of a mage who keeps going because of necessity. Characters: First Enchanter Orsino ,mentions of Uldred Pairings: none Genre: angst, existential philosophy

Deep within the Gallows’ guts, in a small tower looming over the miserable expanse of irons and ironies that is the Kirkwall Circle of Magi, the First Enchanter is dreaming. 

A pale wrist carved in hieroglyphs made with surgical precision is dangling off the bed; a crimson trail the only sign of life that trickles down and adorns long fingers. It drips from the signet ring into a pool onto the wooden floor underneath; like a liquid hourglass always giving by taking. The ominous metallic red mist of magic coming out of it and thickening the air was testimony to that; yet the crackling from the hearth, the rain cascading down the barred narrow window  and the enchanter’s steady breathing made the whole scenery seem deceptively serene. Perhaps it was. When one’s home is a prison, does it make it any less of a home? Does it make it any less of a prison?

Inside the First Enchanter’s mind, however, serenity was a foreign concept. In a sense, that was the only true freedom any mage was allowed, and he would make use of it, even though he had no choice on the matter. How did that Chant go, again? “To you, my second-born, I grant this gift: In your heart shall burn an unquenchable flame, all-consuming, and never satisfied.” In the First Enchanter’s case, that flame burned in sleep as intensely as in his wake. Perhaps even more so. 

That was his rare gift -his curse: relentless consciousness and self-awareness, always and forever until he was dead, comatose, knocked out or made Tranquil; whatever came first. No more dreams, then. Orsino had once read that everyone’s existence is tied in a field; and free will is the illusion that either the field is never-ending or the rope is. He, of all people could not argue with that.

 However, determinism did not need to be blind. To say "yes" to necessity and change the inevitable into something done of their own free will? That is perhaps the only humane way to deliverance. A pitiable way, yes, but there is no other.

“And what of revolt? The proud, quixotic reaction of mankind to conquer Necessity and make external laws conform to the internal laws of the soul, to deny all that is and create a new world according to the laws of one's own heart, which are contrary to the inhuman laws of nature--to create a new world which is purer, better and more moral than the one that exists?” The flame within the First Enchanter’s bosom would ask, defiantly. 

Well, what of it. Mages do not get to have existential agonies; they do not get to exist, period. Pain is every mage’s lot, like his only friend used to say back in Kinloch, and the First Enchanter had concluded that it is in fact despair which births revolt. Not the gentle, spiritual kind of despair but the vile, brutal kind that leads an injured animal to attack its tormentor. There is no room for poetry; not yet, at least. Only for survival.

Was it not despair that made this particular gift to emerge in the first place? The First Enchanter still remembered the last night of peaceful sleep he had, many years ago; he could still taste the bitterness of guilt that night etched. If only he had woken up, rushed to Maud’s side, broken into the closet, prevented the inevitable... But he did not. He slept peacefully; were he not hopelessly young he would have known it was the quiet before the storm.

And the storm did come.  Chaos. Anger. Pain. Agony.  Then, an all-consuming Void. And finally, the Dreams came.

He was young and naive. He paid for both sins equally in one single night: the gray in his hair took the youth away and the gift of the Somniar took away the naivity. The pain took away all that was left. And still, the First Enchnter thought it was fair. Although everything else was not. 

“Why do young people die?” The Flame inside him screamed. “Everything that happens in this world is unjust, unjust, unjust! I won't be a party to it! I, the knife-eared worm, the mage slug, I! Why must the young die and the old wrecks like me go on living? What kind of justice is this? I shall never, never forgive the Maker for that, the day I die, if He has the cheek to appear in front of me, and if He is really and truly the Maker, He'll be ashamed! Yes, yes, He'll be ashamed to show himself to me, the mage-slug!"

Death had no mercy. Everyone knew that much. Wht not many knew was that in the Gallows, Despair, the Mother of Gifts was Death’s biggest ally. Slowly and tirelessly it ate through the living like mould, leaving but empty vessels for Death to claim, and it infuriated the First Enchanter. Especially because the young were most vulnerable to it.

“Why are you helping us?” a teenager had asked him earlier that day. There was nothing but hatred in his eyes -the kind of hatred and bitterness only a teenager is capable of. He had been brought to the Gallows mere days ago. “We are all lost causes, mistakes of nature only meant to cause destruction and ruin. You call it a gift, but I killed my own parents with it. My mother scolded me for not tidying up my room and it was all it took. You are an idiot to believe that there is any hope or redemption after that.” 

The First Enchanter knew; of course he did. This was not the first such case that fell under his care -yet, somehow, the boy’s words, the look in his eyes, somehow scratched a wound that had never healed. His own brow furrowed and he fixed the insolent youth with an icy, stern glare as he felt his blood boil in anger. “Ever heard of Entropy?” he said, and the boy looked at him as if he had suddenly transformed into a monster. “I have seen such cases. People who drain life merely by their touch; make steel erode, turn forests into wastelands. And when there is nothing to absorb, the force turns to absorb themselves. I have seen little girls slowly melting away like candlewax, infants who looked like elders, children playing around covered in man-made exosceletons to prevent anyone from coming to contact with them; wearing their own sarcophagi while still living. Call me foolish, if you will. I am helping because regardless of what they are like; what you are like, you deserve better. You deserve life.”

And tonight, the First Enchanter would make sure of it.

It was forbidden, and, until revently unheard of, but he and Uldred had developed this sort of magic together; a fine combination of a Somniar’s ability to shape dreams and blood magic’s fueling of energy. However the chance to test the spell in such a great scale hadn’t risen until now. Shaping the dreamworlds of hundreds at the same time: nconceivable, invaluable. However, putting the spell into practice revealed one drawback: great amounts of energy were required to control so many minds and blood -an excellent resource as it were- was not in limitless supply. The First Enchanter thought it was a small price to pay, regardless.

Dreaming was getting increasingly harder now and the crimson mist in the room had turned into thick fog, blurring out shapes and angles. The hearth had burned out long ago, yet the trickling of blood on the floor continued -albeit in a much slower pace. There was not much more left to give. However, the First Enchanter was content. From now on, his nights of disquiet would be put into good use; what was sacrificing himself every night so that his people could finally sleep at peace? Giving up what was already lost to provide comfort; efforts in vain, excercises in futility today, tomorrow, ad infinitum for the sake of his people; was that not the heavy duty of a First Enchanter?

The first ray of dawn made it past the barred window of the tower, and illuminated a faint, sad smile upon his lips. The Gallows started to wake up. And Orsino’s mortal coil finally gave in, magic fading and the warm, unfamiliar comfort of unconsciousness embracing him at last. 

((soundtrack))

______________________________________________________

Tagging @tryvyalsynnes for all the WIP Wednesdays you tagged me in and i failed to deliver. I hope this compensates for it.

[the-gunslock]

Hiver 5- North, the Day After

This is the third on a 3-part story, about the day I got a date with the most beautiful girl in the world. Read the first here and the second here.

Lazy, jade-green eyes blink open, absorbing the sunlight of a silent morning. They greet an unfamiliar ceiling, completely white with a fogged glass half-sphere in the center, likely the light. The sensation on the woman’s back is soft and she is covered to her waist by a thick, rust-colored blanket. It has a pleasant, flowery smell.

Moving it off of her, the shipwright sits up and examines the room and its ice blue walls; left of the bed, the mahogany desk with various sorts of stationery, journals and scribbled notes on it; the closet to her right, a full-body mirror with lights framed around it propped next to the closet; in front of the bed, a wall with a shelf, this time with a small terrarium and some vases on top of it, and beside everything, an illustration of the Crest of Alpha Lupi propped against the wall. Beneath it sat a wooden dresser with many drawers and a little anti-grav spinning contraption.

Amanda reattaches her mechanical limb under her white pant leg and gets up to stretch her back before leaving the bedroom. Making her way to the kitchen, she looks at the island they were eating at the night before and spots a lonely plate covered by a piece of cloth and a small note. Looking around and seeing no one, she takes the note that simply says “Good morning Amanda! On the nook if you need me -Hiver” and lifts the cloth.

Beneath it sits a white plate with decorative blue edges, with a cheese and ham sandwich, a whole section of fluffy scrambled eggs and cut sausages near it. Beside the plate sat neatly aligned utensils, a recipient with sugar and a black mug filled with coffee, all of the food still steaming hot. She sat down and smiled at the breakfast her friend made, while getting ready to down everything.

“I could get used to this.” The human thought to herself, taking a bite out of her sandwich, contemplating the peace and company of the last day. She was definitely glad she stayed over. It really did feel like the home she never had.

A really good change of pace from living on the road, surviving off of food hoarding, rock pillows, and shotgun slugs.

Amanda’s parents weren’t here, as much as she wished them to; but she does have someone who cares and loves her enough to make her feel like coming back to. And she trusts Hiver enough to be there when she needs to come back.

As much as Amanda loved being Chief Shipwright, working to repair machines and supply the defenders of humanity and whatnot with ships and vehicles, there wasn’t much to her life outside of work, usually keeping her alone with her longing and not-so-good memories.

A smile crept into her face as Amanda felt the heat of the coffee mug in her hand. She turned sideways in her seat, looking at the nook where her Warlock friend resided, half-mindedly looking out of the window. As she drank her warm beverage, she silently thanked Hiver for allowing her to start something new.

Whatever that “something” may be.

After putting the dishes in the sink to wash later, the blonde pushed aside the curtain to the reading nook, admiring the view of the Awoken woman basking in the sunlight.

Beneath Hiver’s usual shy demeanor and leather-wizard-cowgirl gear, the Shipwright realized how she rarely had the chance to get a good look at what her friend looked like. Most Guardians just look like a suit of armor, with the rare un-helmeted ones.

Her strong calves beneath her thin black tights. Her skirt delicately draping over her well fleshed thighs. Her small but perky bust, smoothly enveloped by her blouse, which exposed her narrow shoulders that made a lovely curve towards her nape. Above that, her purple, asymmetrically cut hair, a good complement to her calm blue skin that flowed with near-invisible energy waves, an exotic but very interesting -- and aesthetically pleasing -- feature of the Awoken.

“In that moment she seemed as wholly luminescent as the sun… and I wished to be so brave.” Amanda quoted in her head as a cloud passed in front of the sun, dimming the natural light that shone through the windows.

“She’s beautiful.”

As if reading her mind, the Warlock turned her glowing blue eyes towards the human girl, her usual, cheerful “Good morning, Amanda!” coming out of her lips.

Her slight blush was still visible, but she smiled casually as she always would. “G’morning, Hiver”, she greeted back, opening the curtains and sitting close to the Warlock on her nook. She notices a red book with an intricate gold circle design on its cover. “Whatcha reading?”

“Ulan-Tan’s Thesis of Symmetry.” Hiver replied, handing her the book. Amanda skims it, stopping at some pages.

“The one about how Light and Darkness are both needed to maintain the balance of their forces or… something?”

Hiver nods. “Interesting read.” Amanda passes the book back to her friend. “Not sure if as dangerous as Vanguard makes it seem. Either way, how are you? Sleep well?”

“Did you carry me to bed?” Amanda asks with a smug grin. As expected, Hiver is coy about it. She always enjoyed the reaction.

“Y-yeah… I did.” Hiver replies, averting her gaze. “You dozed off on my shoulder last night, and you had a rough day soooo… I figured it would be better if you had the bed…”

“Where’d you sleep, though?”

“Couch is also a bed.”

“And ya also got the energy to get up earlier and make me a tasty breakfast like the housewife you are.”

“I-it wasn’t a big d--”

Hiver is cut off by a temperature increase on her cheek, and a slightly moist, comfortable sensation brushing against her face’s skin. Her emotions are messy as a hurricane right now, but she is certain most of them are positive, and that brings her a new form of joy.

Amanda pulls away from the kiss and leans against Hiver’s shoulder again, closing her eyes.

“Thank you, Hiver.” She said, voice as soft as cotton. “For all you do.”

The Awoken is unsure of what to do. She tries bringing her hand around Amanda’s shoulders, leading her to snuggle closer. This was the right move, then.

“Anytime you need, Amanda.” She said, lightly massaging the shipwright’s arm with her fingertips.

After a while of staying like this, Hiver musters her courage and takes the first step. “So…”

Amanda lets out a ‘hm?’, which means her curiosity was piqued. Hiver has no way out of this now.

“Today is… your day off, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

The Warlock is nervously darting her eyes back and forth, glad Amanda can’t see it since she is still on her shoulder. “Would you… like to go out? ...With me? We can… stargaze, or browse a library, or...”

She chuckles at this. “My, my. Are ya invitin’ me on a date, cowgirl?”

“...Yes?” Hiver’s voice is close to breaking, eliciting more chuckling from her blonde friend.

“Appreciate your honesty.” She gets her head up from her shoulder, holding the Warlock’s hand and rubbing its back with her thumb in an attempt to calm her nerves.

“Yep, let’s do it.” The shipwright answers, smiling brightly at Hiver’s both happy and relieved sigh and intertwining her fingers with hers.

From her pillow in the living room, after a while of pretending to be asleep, Trinity turns her eye to look at the two girls and lets out a very quiet but energetic “Hell yes!” in celebration at her girl finally growing.

[shiranuigenma]

An Unexpected Arrangement - KakaYama

TEEN+ // ALSO ON AO3 Words: 2,554 Prompt: Fake Dating Warnings: Alcohol, Drunk kissing, background Sasuke/Naruto

Anyone who knows me knows that angst is more my speed than humor, but I had this idea and I loved it so here we are, with my day 3 prompt for @kakayamaweek2019!

Hope you guys like it! :)

EDIT! I forgot to link to AO3 lmao

Kakashi does not talk about his personal life, to anyone, but Team 7 is notoriously nosy and he doesn't want to deal with it so he says something he shouldn’t - which, of course, backfires spectacularly.

Kakashi is not a man known for talking about his personal life. He's just a very private person - he always has been, and despite how much being the sensei for Team Seven has changed him, his dislike for sharing any details about himself hasn't changed a bit.

This, of course, does nothing to deter Sakura. She's always been too nosy for her own good, and while Kakashi knows that it's because she cares, that it comes from a place of worry, right now it's annoying because he's just left the longest, most tedious meeting of his life, he's tired, and he would rather listen to Naruto wax poetic about Sasuke for six hours than talk about his nonexistent love life right now - or ever, really, but when has he ever gotten what he wants? As it is, Sakura seems determined to hound him all the way back to his apartment, which he can't let happen.

He's made it eight years without one of his students finding out where he lives, after all. He's not about to break that record now.

"Sakura," Kakashi says as he comes to a stop, tone gentle but laced with an edge of warning. She stops beside him, glancing up at him curiously. He knows it's probably a bad idea to pull rank with someone who could kill him with just one finger if they felt so inclined, but he's only half a block and three flights of stairs from a well-deserved nap and he'd like to get there at some point today. "Do you really think this is an appropriate conversation to have with the Hokage?"

"Probably not," she replies after a moment of thought, but she doesn't appear apologetic. If anything, she sounds almost defiant, grinning cheekily at him. "But I'm not asking the Hokage, am I? I'm asking my friend, who I'm worried about."

For a moment Kakashi can only stare at her, wondering when she had become someone who so easily dismissed the Hokage. He knows her respect for him as her sensei has been declining steadily over the years, though that probably has a little to do with how lackluster he was as a teacher and a lot to do with his habit of walking around reading porn in public.

Well, that and maybe how he told her not two days ago that he hated the job and tried to pass the hat to her. He doubts he'd respect himself much either, if he were in her shoes.

"Maa, I'm fine," Kakashi finally says, but she doesn't look like she buys it. "You don't need to worry about me, Sakura, I..." He pauses when he catches movement from the corner of his eye, turning his head to see a group of men walking toward them. Naruto is talking animatedly to Tenzo, bouncing on the balls of his feet, while Sasuke and Sai trail behind them looking disinterested. Of the four of them, Tenzo is the only one who looks intrigued by whatever they're talking about.

It's like a lightbulb goes off over his head.

Is it a stupid idea? Maybe. Definitely, because if Tenzo finds out about it he will kill him, but those consequences for what he's about to do are the last thing on his mind.

"I have Tenzo," Kakashi tells Sakura, looking back at her. He expects confusion - Tenzo is not a name she is supposed to know, so she won't know who he's talking about. It's almost brilliant in its simplicity.

But confusion is not the reaction he gets. Instead, she lights up, clasping her hands in front of her and breaking out into a bright, excited smile. He doesn't like that look, and he likes it even less when she suddenly sprints up the street, closing the gap between them and the rest of their team.

Kakashi realizes a split second too late that not only has he made a mistake, but he’d played right into Sakura’s hands.

"I told you!" Sakura yells, and Naruto yelps when she suddenly jams her finger into his chest. This is bad. This is very, very bad. "Kakashi-sensei confessed, you owe me dinner!"

But that is so much worse.

"Confessed to what?" Naruto wheezes, clutching his chest where Sakura had poked him, jumping back when she moves to do it again.

"To dating Captain Yamato!"

Tenzo's head turns slowly, and if looks could kill Kakashi would drop dead where he stands.

"I'm sorry." Kakashi's not sure how many times he's apologized now - he lost count in the lobby, and while Tenzo hasn't said a word since they walked away from their arguing students, Kakashi knows he's in trouble.

He can't say he doesn't understand why Tenzo is angry with him, though. It's one thing for him to lie, but to include Tenzo in that lie without at least telling him about it first crosses one of the few boundaries that they have, and on top of that he had told that lie, intentional or not, to one of their students. He'd be mad, too, if Tenzo had done that to him.

And hell, he'd probably react the same way Tenzo is, too - with silence, quietly fuming as he all but drags Kakashi up the stairs to his apartment. He knows he's in for it the moment the door shuts behind them, and Tenzo does not disappoint.

"What were you thinking?" Tenzo demands, spinning to face him once he's slammed the door shut, dark eyes narrowed into a glare. Kakashi gets the distinct feeling that his friend is currently resisting the urge to hit him, and if he didn't find Tenzo as scary as an angry kitten, the pure fury in his eyes would almost being intimidating. "You told Sakura we were dating?"

"Not exactly," Kakashi replies defensively, kicking off his sandals by the door and beating a hasty retreat to the couch, sinking onto it with a heavy sigh. Resisting the urge to lean back and close his eyes, he instead leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and watching Tenzo tug off his own sandals. "Sakura was concerned that I was lonely. I told her I had Tenzo, how was I supposed to know that she knew that was you?"

"You..." Tenzo stares at him, and when his knuckles visibly blanch on the sandal he's holding, Kakashi thinks he might throw it at him. "I'm starting to think that everyone who calls you a genius is either a liar or has never actually met you. The whole team has known my name for years now because you can never remember to use my code name-"

"Oh. Well, shit." Thinking about it now, he does vaguely recall only calling Tenzo by the code name Tsunade had given him maybe two or three times since he came out of Anbu to captain Team Seven. Sakura's reaction makes a lot more sense now. "I'm sorry, Tenzo. In my defense, I did just come out of a five hour meeting with the Daimyo's advisers about his upcoming visit. And honestly, is it really fair to only be mad at me? Sakura's the one that started a betting pool. She even got Lady Tsunade involved-"

"Lady Tsunade would bet on whether Naruto is eating ramen for dinner tonight if someone asked her to," Tenzo interrupts, finally tossing his sandal down and crossing the room, dropping unceremoniously onto the couch next to Kakashi. When he speaks again, he sounds just a little less angry. "I just... I thought you knew that the kids jump to conclusions like it's their job. You should have-"

"I know." Kakashi sighs, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. "I'm not going to apologize again." He closes his eyes, letting himself relax - it's not like there's much else he can do right now anyway. "I'm also not telling them the truth. Telling Sakura I had you was the first time she's actually quit asking me questions about my love life in weeks, and I will happily let her keep thinking we're dating if it keeps her off my back."

Tenzo doesn't seem to know what to say to that, and a heavy silence - not quite awkward, but not entirely comfortable either - falls over them, and when Tenzo continues to offer no response, he lets himself begin to doze off.

He's half-asleep when Tenzo finally speaks, pulling him back to attention. He cracks one eye open, giving him a curious look.

"I guess I can go along with it," he says, and if Kakashi isn't mistaken, his friend's cheeks are flushed. "If Sakura really bothers you as much as you say she does, I can pretend that we're dating."

"You sure?" Kakashi asks, both eyes open now as he looks at Tenzo, and after a split second of hesitation, Tenzo nods, though his expression becomes one of regret when Kakashi grins wolfishly. "I could kiss you right now."

Tenzo slugging his shoulder as hard as he can is totally worth the way he turns the same shade as a beet and bolts for the door.

At first, pretending to date Tenzo had been a good idea. Sakura and Sai still ask questions, but Sakura isn't as pushy as she'd been before and she's teaching Sai to be more tactful, so if Kakashi asks them to respect his privacy and drop it, they typically listen. Sasuke just doesn't care, so he's a non-issue in that regard (which - and he won't tell the others - makes the Uchiha his current favorite).

Naruto, on the other hand, isn't as considerate, but Kakashi's still not entirely convinced the boy wasn't raised by wolves when no one was looking so that's to be expected.

He does have to admit it's nice, not having to field questions about his personal life constantly, and even nicer still to get out of doing things by telling the kids he's spending time with Tenzo.

At least, it was nice, until Naruto was finally promoted to Jonin and he decided to have his celebration at a bar.

Maybe it's the poorly lit booth Naruto picks out in the back of the room, or the sake sitting warm in his belly, but Kakashi finds himself letting his guard down - and, in a strange turn of events, actually enjoys himself. 

"I didn't know Kakashi-sensei knew how to have fun!" Naruto crows about it over his third drink, and it visibly sloshes over his fingers when he thrusts his cup into the air.

Kakashi would probably be offended if he weren't already beginning to feel a bit of a buzz, and besides - Naruto isn't wrong. But he's not going to put a damper on the night by bringing up the differences in their childhoods.

"I know how to have fun," Kakashi tells him instead, reaching over to pat Tenzo's back when he inhales his drink. "I played along when you were trying to see under my mask, didn't I? I even tried to help you."

"What are you talking about?" Sakura asks, but instead of answering Kakashi just grins, tugging his mask down and taking a drink.

Sakura is the only one currently looking at him, and by the time she recovers from her own shock and gets Naruto, Sasuke, and Sai's attention, his mask is already securely back in place.

The others, of course, don't believe her.

Four drinks in, the mask comes off and stays off. He's starting to feel unnaturally warm as the alcohol takes effect, and he's tired of pulling it up and down - at this point, Naruto is the only one who hasn't seen his face because Sakura, who is now taking Sasuke's place as his favorite, has been making him look the other way when Kakashi tugs it down.

This time he's paying attention, though, and his indignant reaction to realizing his friends really do already know is almost worth the mouthful of water he spits in Kakashi's face.

Five drinks in, the full length of Kakashi's leg is pressed against Tenzo's despite how much space they still have on their side of the table, his arm thrown carelessly over Tenzo's shoulders as Naruto regales them with a story about the new jutsu he's working on.

Six is still sitting untouched in front of him when he turns his head to mumble something in Tenzo's ear, and he doesn't really register the kiss he presses to Tenzo's temple until Naruto makes a joke about the PDA like he hasn't been all over Sasuke for the last twenty minutes.

Seven... Well, seven has him standing at the bar waiting for eight when Tenzo's hand suddenly wraps around his wrist, and then his back is pressed to the wall in the dark hallway that leads to the bathroom and Tenzo is kissing him, hands in his hair while his own are pressed to the small of his back.

Seven has him fleeing as fast as his feet can carry him and feeling grossly more sober than he had been seven drinks ago.

Seven has him realizing he is absolutely fucked.

Of course, he's known how he feels about Tenzo for way longer than he would ever admit - he reads enough trashy romance novels to know what it means when his palms start to sweat and his heart tries to escape his chest when Tenzo is around. The question is when this had started - maybe when they'd started going on missions together again, after his students had all left for other teachers.

Now that he thinks about it, he does remember a moment on one particular mission to the Land of Waves where they went undercover in a local bar to gather information, and seeing Tenzo smiling and laughing with the locals had made his chest feel so tight he thought he was having a heart attack.

Yeah, that's the moment. It has to be.

But whether that moment was the catalyst or not, the truth of it is inescapable - at some point, Kakashi had fallen hopelessly and pathetically in love with Tenzo, and that realization is somehow both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him.

The problem with that is, though, that Tenzo had kissed him back. In fact, if he recalls correctly, Tenzo had been the one to drag him into that hallway in the first place, had been the one to tug his mask down and kiss him stupid. And that is terrifying and confusing and he doesn't know what the hell to do.

Which is how he finds himself confessing everything to Sakura when she visits him in his office the next day, hiding his head beneath a newspaper on his desk while she laughs at him.

He supposes he deserves it.

"You love him," she says, patting his shoulder sympathetically. She makes it sound so simple.

"No," he groans, but he's a liar and she's heartless.

"Yes." She pulls the paper away and rolls it up, smacking him on the head with it. "If Naruto and Sasuke can get over themselves, you can too. Just tell him how you feel and date him for real." With that she turns to leave, taking his newspaper with her.

"I hate you," he calls half-heartedly after her as she goes, but she just laughs and shuts the door.

[matrixaffiliate]

Patient

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Next chapter goes up on Friday, June 28th! 

(P.S. The horizontal line button isn’t working today.)

Chapter 4

It wasn't a total lie, Harry reasoned as he drove North. Neville was a client, one of Harry's first actually. But Neville wasn't having a meeting, he wasn't in a business that would have many meetings, and Neville wasn't actually aware that the Harry Potter who ran his security remotely was the same Harry Potter he'd grown up with. He didn't know, because Harry had lied.

Don't misunderstand him. Harry had wanted Neville to choose his business because Nev wanted to use Harry's company, not because he was a friend. And as they had communicated almost exclusively via email since Neville now lived nearly four hours away, the lie continued fifteen years later. That had been because Harry wasn't too fond of what Neville had decided to specialize in.

See, Nev had gone on to be a psychologist, and Harry had found right after everything happened with his family that everyone kept pushing him to talk about his feelings. No one knew it was his fault that his family had perished, so he didn't begrudge them their assumed kindness, but he still hated that everyone's immediate reaction was to talk about how he felt. Once Harry finally got everything set up with his security business nearly five years after it all, he also found out Nev had gone into psychology. Harry figured no psychologist could resist making broken people talk about how broken they were, especially when they were old friends. So rather than risk Nev pulling the truth from him, Harry lied.

But now, well, Harry knew he needed help. He needed to know how to tell Teddy and Gin what he really was. He needed help figuring out how to move forward when they cut him off. And he figured that Nev would at least be willing to give him some advice before he told him he'd find a new security business.

Today had made him realize it was time. Seeing his parents' home again, Ginny standing at the boxes of all the things his family left behind, Teddy's rightful anger, Ginny loving his childhood home enough to live in it, all of it made him realize that he loved them all too much to keep lying to them. They deserved better. They deserved to spend their lives with people worth their love and their time.

Harry checked into a hotel once he arrived and sent a text to Teddy saying that he'd be home tomorrow. Teddy always assumed, and rightfully so, that Harry meant he was staying with Gin and that suited Harry fine. Then he emailed Neville and told him he would be stopping by in the morning. Once the logistics ran out, so did Harry's mental ability to shut down everything that had happened and everything he was committing himself to do.

He wanted them to be happy, and Teddy would be happy with Vic and her family. It was going to kill him, but he'd known from the beginning this would have to happen. Harry had known since the day he brought Teddy home from Andromeda's funeral that he would have to tell him, and that little boy who held onto him so desperately would want nothing to do with him. Harry knew the day would come.

But Ginny.

Harry had never expected to end up with someone like Ginny in his life. He hadn't ever thought someone would want him, would seek him out, would tell him that they loved him no matter what. Harry had never thought he'd end up tricking someone like her, someone as wonderful and amazing as Gin was.

And for a moment, Harry thought to stop it all, to email Nev and cancel, to pretend none of this happened, to drive the four hours back right now and tell Ginny he loved her and he'd buy back his parents' home and bury all of his guilt so far down that he could selfishly keep her to himself forever. Giving up Ginny felt wrong on so many levels, but he couldn't trap her like this, he was sure she would be happier without him.

She deserved better than him, someone who was honest, someone without so much darkness haunting them. She deserved a chance to start fresh and avoid all his demons.

Harry lay on the bed, trying to clear his mind enough to sleep, but he was haunted by images of mangled cars and still faces, of Teddy's obvious anger, but mostly by the sound of Ginny's parting words to him, and a kiss he had no right to take from her.

_______________________________________

Harry walked into Neville's little office space the next morning very tired. An elderly woman sat at the small reception desk and smiled at him.

"How can I help you, dear?"

Harry cleared his throat, wishing this wasn't so hard.

"I'm Harry Potter, I run all your computer security, I need to speak with Dr. Longbottom."

The woman beamed, "Of course dear, Dr. Longbottom sent me a text last night saying you'd be coming in. He's in his eight-o'clock appointment but he doesn't have anyone at nine and he slid you in there."

"Thank you," Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. He still had fifteen minutes to wait. "Do you mind if I sit and get some work done?"

"Be my guest," the woman grinned and gestured to the five chairs that sat in front of her desk.

Harry slipped out his laptop and tried to keep his mind on everything other than what was about to happen. He hadn't felt so much internal turmoil since the day that Andromeda made him Teddy's sole guardian. The fifteen minutes seemed to drag along at a snail's pace. Harry could swear he was writing emails at record speed based on how he seemed to be getting more done than he ever managed to get done in his office.

Finally, he heard the door open and watched a gentleman nod to the receptionist before heading out the door. Then out stepped Neville.

Harry quickly closed down his laptop and slid it back into the bag.

"Mr. Potter," Neville's grin was wide, "why don't you step into my office and we can discuss what you emailed me about last night?"

Harry nodded and followed his old friend back into his office. Neville hadn't changed much, his hair had darkened a bit and his face had the worn lines of age and experience, but not much else was different. He actually looked a lot like his dad from what Harry remembered of Frank.

Harry's musing was cut short when Neville shut the door and pulled Harry into a tight embrace.

"I knew it! I knew it was you!" Neville let him go and then slugged his arm. "What the hell did I do, Potter? Why try to keep me in the dark?"

"You, you knew?" Harry blinked as Neville's words processed.

"Of course I knew you, idiot. I grew up with you, I think I'd recognize one of my best mates." Neville sat down and gestured for Harry to do the same. Harry sat down in the chair across from the desk. Vaguely his mind registered that there wasn't a sofa in Nev's office. For some strange and unknown reason, that comforted Harry.

"I'm sorry." Harry shook his head. "I didn't want you to use my business just because we were friends."

Nev chuckled, "Harry when I hired you I knew exactly who you were."

Harry quirked a brow, "How?"

Neville chuckled, "I'm sorry to disappoint you but I was listening when you were going off on different tangents during A-levels. I figured out who you were."

"You were always a clever prat," Harry gave in to the smile pulling on his lips.

He'd missed Nev.

"Now that's out of the way," Nev leaned back in his chair, "what brought you up here?"

Harry flinched. For a brief second, he forgot he was seeing Nev for something other than reconnecting.

"Harry," Nev pushed back forward, "is everything alright?"

Harry almost backed out, everything within him screamed to grab his backpack and bolt for the door. But it was all drowned out by the memory of Ginny. She deserved better, and he was a putz if he didn't show her that.

"Did you hear about my folks?" He knew the answer. Nev had been at the funeral. But Harry had to start somewhere.

Nev nodded, "I'm so sorry. How's Teddy?"

"Brilliant, he's getting married in about three months."

"That's great, Harry. He's lucky to have you."

Harry huffed, "I don't think so."

Nev leaned over the desk and clasped his hands in front of him. Harry didn't dare make eye contact.

"Why do you say that?"

Harry took a deep breath and said what he should have said to Andromeda and Ted Tonks in the days following his family's death.

"It's my fault that Teddy doesn't have his parents. It's my fault that I don't have my family."

Neville answered him slowly. "What makes you say that, Harry?"

"I offered to watch Teddy and they all decided to go out that night." The words felt like cotton in his mouth. "If I hadn't offered, Remus and Tonks would be planning Teddy's wedding with him, not me."

"So, you blame yourself for the deaths of your family."

"Of course I do, Nev," Harry snapped, finally looking up at his old friend. "It's my fault!"

"Not the fault of the drunk driver?"

Neville's face was calm and Harry felt fury boiling in him. Why was he so calm about this? He was supposed to hate him, tell him what an awful person he was, agree with him that he wasn't worth Teddy's time, let alone Ginny's

"When's the last time you had alcohol, Harry?"

Harry felt like the question hit him from behind, and he blinked at Neville.

"Before the accident, right?" Neville pressed.

Harry glared at him but nodded. What did alcohol have to do with anything?

"Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?" Harry yelled. "Every time I look at it I see them. I was next of kin! I went to the morgue! I sat there with a screaming little boy because his mum and dad weren't coming home! And it was my fault! I caused it! So forgive me for hating the site of alcohol because it's a constant reminder of everything I did to end the lives of the people I loved the most and to rob my godson of a family and happy life with them!"

Harry felt the lump rising in his throat and tried to swallow it down.

"And I never told anyone, Nev. I sat next to Andromeda as she died in the hospital and I couldn't tell her." The tears escaped him and Harry wiped at them with the back of his hand in anger. "And Teddy doesn't know, and now there's Gin and they both deserve so much more, so much better than me. Teddy's fiance's family will take good care of him, and they'll love him. He'll be happier without me. And Ginny, she needs better than me, she deserves to know what I am."

"What are you, Harry?" Neville's voice was soft, calm.

"All those years at a fancy school and you can't see a murderer when he confesses to you?"

Neville laughed and for a moment Harry yearned for the old days, when he and Nev would climb into the old Cortina Mark IV Harry bought and drive around like maniacs, when things were so much simpler, when his family was still with him.

Neville handed him a small framed picture.

"Harry, this is Hannah," Harry looked down at the woman in the frame. She was standing against a light pole with a bright smile on her face.

"Your wife?" Harry flinched at how much he'd missed of his old friend's life.

Neville nodded as he took the frame back.

"Hannah and I have been married for six years, and we'd very much like to start a family. We've been trying for four years now. The doctors we've seen all say that there's nothing medically wrong with either of us. Neither of us is unhealthy. Yet here we are, four years into trying, and no children."

Neville looked down at the frame, a sad sigh escaping his lips.

"What would you say if I told you it was Hannah's fault we weren't having kids?"

"I'd punch you in the mouth," Harry frowned.

Neville, however, smiled, "I'd hoped that would be your response. It's incorrect to say that the problem is her or me. It's not. It's what has happened, and we're working through it as best we can."

Harry felt a great deal of confusion as he stared at his old friend.

"It isn't anymore Hannah's fault that we haven't had kids than it is your fault that your family perished, Harry." Nev set the frame aside and looked back at him. "And as your friend, I'd feel similarly inclined to punch you in the mouth for suggesting the latter."

Harry hung his head in his hands. "When you put it like that I sound like an arse."

"No, you sound like a man who was never given the opportunity to grieve. You became Teddy's guardian just over a year after your family died and you spent most of that year taking care of Andromeda and Teddy."

Neville moved around his desk and knelt next to Harry. "Mate, did you even once over these years take time to actually feel the pain for yourself? Not feeling for Teddy, but feeling the loss of so many people close to you?"

"I don't know, Nev," Harry shuddered under the weight of nearly two decades of unprocessed grief.

"Then let's talk about how you can grieve now." Neville put a hand on his shoulder. "And after, I want to know who Ginny is."

And for the first time since his family perished, Harry felt something that felt an awful lot like hope.

_______________________________________

Neville's ten-o'clock appointment canceled last minute which he used to help Harry learn how to grieve and let go. Harry wasn't particularly fond of the idea, but Nev assured Harry the problem was not him, it was a lack of grieving.

Five minutes before Neville's eleven-o'clock appointment, Harry stood to leave.

"Thanks, Nev, I'm not sure if I would have managed without you."

Neville pulled Harry into a hug, "Mate, this is what friends and family are for. We reach out and we help each other heal from what the world throws at us."

"Send me a bill for the two hours and I'll wire you the fee." Harry slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"Nah," Neville shook his head, "Hannah and I will come down and you take us and Ginny out to dinner together. That's the only payment I'll accept."

Harry chuckled, "Let me know the next time you're down my way then. I know of a few places."

Neville hugged him once more before seeing him out.

Harry started the drive back down and took the first step that Nev had suggested. He called Kelsey.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better," Kelsey's voice sounded through his Bluetooth.

"Yes, I'm sorry for yesterday," the next words seemed to cut his throat as he spoke them, "I'd very much like to see that third home. Could you arrange it, preferably today?"

"Of course," Kelsey's answer was far too chipper but Harry reminded himself that most people weren't grieving the majority of their adult lives.

After setting the time he called Teddy, who didn't answer. Harry assumed that he was in class and left a message. Nev said it would be good for Teddy to be a part of this process, it would be good for him to see Harry finally grieve. Harry didn't like it one bit, but Nev had been insistent that it would help with the anger Harry was sure Teddy harbored against him.

The next call was the one he was both anticipating and dreading.

"Harry," Ginny answered before the first ring had finished.

Harry felt the tension ease at the sound of her voice.

"Gin," it was more of a sigh than a greeting, like when you walk in your door after a few days away and let the feeling of home wash over you.

"How are you?" Ginny's voice betrayed her concern and Harry felt sick with guilt for a moment.

"I'm better," it was true. Talking with Nev, as much as he hadn't wanted to at first, had really helped him feel like maybe, maybe Teddy and Ginny would understand. Maybe they'd be willing to see him as worth their time, their effort, their love.

"I'm so glad," Ginny sounded relieved.

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

"No, but I'm not busy today either."

Harry was tempted, tempted to put off this awful mess of feelings in exchange for the blissful oblivion that he felt with Ginny. But she deserved someone who could be as whole as possible, someone who didn't have nearly two decades of grief to handle.

"I need to have Teddy help me with something today, but I'm all yours tomorrow."

Ginny sighed, "Fine, I guess I can wait till tomorrow."

Harry chuckled, "You're going to give me a big head."

"Not a chance," Ginny shot back, "you're running under the assumption I want to see you because I love you. In reality, you're just an assuage to my tedious existence."

Harry laughed, and it felt so good to laugh.

"Man, Gin, not pulling any punches today, are you?"

"I never do, love."

The seriousness in her voice left Harry without the ability to breathe for several seconds, but the iron in it kept the hope in him alive. Maybe she wouldn't dump him after all of this. Maybe she meant it when she said she loved him, no matter what.

_______________________________________

There were a million memories that flooded Harry as he drove through the old neighborhood. There was Oliver's place, where he'd host pick up football games every day after school. He'd always told Harry to try and go pro. Oliver had done just that. He passed Mrs. Figg's home, she always had cookies for him. He wondered if she was still around or not; if he knocked on her door if she'd be the one to answer?

There were kids running around, the weather just tolerable enough to play outdoors. Teddy used to live for days like today this time of year, and as the sadness hit him from that thought, Harry let it. He let the feeling fill him, instead of crushing it as he'd always done. He allowed himself to grieve that he had raised his godson, rather than blame himself or shut himself down as a bad godfather for being the reason he didn't have parents. At first, the feeling was so heavy Harry thought it's weight would crush him, and he pulled off to the side of the road to allow the tears to fall. But slowly, the weight ebbed and Harry pulled in what felt like his first real breath. He felt lighter somehow. It still hurt, but it wasn't incapacitating as it always had been before.

Maybe Nev knew what he was talking about after all.

Harry managed to meet Kelsey on time, but getting out of the car felt like climbing the last ten yards of Everest. Somehow, he managed.

"Ginny really loved this one, I could tell." Kelsey grinned as she unlocked the door.

Harry only nodded and smiled. It felt so weird to be let into\ what was once his home. But once he stepped inside, he saw it was no longer what he grew up with, it was better.

It looked like his mum had left drawings of everything she'd ever wanted done to the home and someone had found them. What Harry thought would be a trip down memory lane, felt more like stepping inside his mum's dream.

"Do you mind if I just look around?" Harry asked, trying to figure out how to politely ask Kelsey to leave him be.

"Of course," Kelsey smiled, seeming to pick up on the hint. "I'm sure Ginny told you all about the amazing things the current owners have done. If you have any questions I'll just be right here."

Harry climbed the steps to his old room. The room looked nothing like it had when he had lived there. The walls now a crisp off-white rather than the beige they'd been as he grew up, and no longer covered in posters of bands and footballers.

It wasn't his room anymore, and that felt both sad and relieving. It was sad to feel like this part of his life could never be brought back, but it was more so a weight off his shoulders. It was almost consoling, that this room was no longer his, that it looked nothing like when he lived here on his own until Andromeda had been diagnosed with cancer and Harry had moved in with her to help take care of Teddy. It felt good to know it wasn't going to feel like he was right back in the thick of those awful months by being here.

The memories flooded Harry as he walked from his room to his parents' old room. Nothing was the same. The room used to be rather large with a small bathroom. The current owners had taken part of the bedroom to widen the en suite into something much more luxurious. The guest rooms that used to house his dad's study and his mum's office were set up as bedrooms now, and being in them lacked the sharp pain of memories Harry was sure he would feel. They felt normal, as though maybe one day children would grow up in them.

Maybe his own children?

The thought felt strange and surreal, but also... hopeful...like maybe one day he'd be a father and a godfather.

The back garden was where the emotions caught up with him, mostly because it was untouched. The tree house his dad and Sirius built him sat in the tree as though twenty-five years hadn't passed. The lawn still seemed to stretch for miles in front of him, though it was only maybe a quarter of a football pitch if that. He was lost in those memories when he realized his feet were moving, and his hands had started climbing the rungs of the tree house ladder.

It wasn't difficult to get in, his dad had told his mum they'd made the whole thing big enough for adults so that they could rescue the lads if anything happened. Harry knew it was because his dad and godfather used to use the tree house while he was at school.

The memory made Harry smile as he looked at the old carvings he'd made. Some were with his dad, others with Nev, one was from the last time Harry was in the small space. He'd brought Teddy up, the night everyone perished, and had carved Teddy's name into the tree.

"Now you're one of the lads, Teddy." Harry heard his voice echoing from the past. "We'll be great mates, I'll show you all the best things. And you can always come up here whenever you want to."

Harry shuddered as finally, the pain hit him full force. His chest constricted and Harry wondered if he might pass out; from the way his chest was caving in on itself, he almost expected to. It was excruciating, to feel so much at once, and more than once Harry wanted to lock it all back away, to forget it all again, but Nev promised this would help, and this path meant keeping Teddy and Gin, so Harry gritted his teeth and let the tears run.

Slowly Harry ran out of tears, and the crushing weight of sadness seemed to slip away. He felt lighter again, the pain still there but not so sharp.

Maybe it was working.

Harry tried to clean his face off as best he could before returning to Kelsey.

"I'd like you to start the paperwork on this home."

Kelsey almost squealed, Harry was sure it took a great deal of effort on her part not to.

"Absolutely! I'll get everything drawn up and send it over to you tonight."

Harry grinned, it felt right to buy the house back, to start the road his parents had hoped for him their whole lives.

"Thanks, Kelsey," Harry shook her hand, "Keep me posted."

Harry climbed into his car, hoping Teddy would be willing to help him through this next bit.

_______________________________________

"What are all these?" Teddy looked at the boxes strewn across the floor in the sitting room.

Harry looked up from his laptop and sighed, "This is what I should have done a long time ago."

Teddy stepped closer to one of the boxes.

"These are James' and Lily's things." Teddy looked up with wide eyes.

"And those are Sirius and Marlene's," Harry nodded to the smaller cluster of boxes.

"Why are they down here?" Teddy's hand rested on the box closest to him, his fingers drumming nervously on its lid. Harry wondered if Nev was right that this would be good for him, it certainly didn't look that way right now.

"Have a seat, Teddy," Harry closed his laptop and set it aside.

Teddy eyed the boxes once more before settling in next to Harry on the sofa.

"I guess first, I owe you an apology." Harry ran a hand into his hair.

"If you apologize for not being my parents, I'm going to leave."

"No, I owe you an apology for not grieving." Harry heaved a sigh and ran his hand over his face.

"Wait, what?"

"I never took the time to grieve. I've spent this whole time trying to press every emotion that came from the accident down. And I've," Harry gripped his knees, "I've blamed myself for their death."

"Harry," but Harry cut off Teddy's interruption.

"I'm getting there, but let me explain. Our family went out that night because I offered to look after you. If I," Harry paused to swallow the lump in his throat. "I felt that if I hadn't offered to watch you, they'd all still be here. Then when your grandparents passed away too, I shut down all my grief. The only thing I ever let myself focus on was you. I told myself that my suffering was some sort of penance for my killing our family. So I threw myself into being your parent and keeping you safe." Harry felt the tears pressing on the backs of his eyes and sniffed at the wetness in his nose before going on.

"But yesterday I visited an old friend who happens to be a psychologist and he talked through it all with me. His process has made me feel like I'm back to the day we buried everyone, but I think it's helping too." Harry finally looked up at Teddy, his head felt heavy as he did so. "He suggested you be a part of this grieving step."

Harry pulled the box closest to him over in front of them. "I would like to go through all of these things with you and tell you about them, what they are, who they belonged to, and their significance to our family. When we're done, I'd be happy to go through your parents' boxes and do the same. I don't know much about your grandparents, but I'll go through it all with you as well."

Teddy was silent as he looked back at Harry. His face showed nothing, something Harry was sure Teddy had picked up from him, a bad result of how he'd handled everything for so many years.

"Teddy?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Teddy snapped, his facade finally breaking with a furrowed brow.

Harry flinched. He should have known better.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have offered, I should have just done this in my room. I'll get all of these out of your way." Harry pushed up to stand when Teddy pulled him back down.

"No," Teddy rounded on him, "you're going through every fucking box here with me so I can make sure you do it! How in the hell could you spend so much time trying to make sure I handled my parents being dead well and completely miss that you were fucking yourself up?!"

Harry stared at his godson, mouth agape as Teddy's words sunk in. Teddy was right. He had read several books about how to help a child who had lost their parents grow up into a well-adjusted adult. They were sitting on one of the lower shelves in his office. But not once did Harry look internally and apply the lessons to himself.

"I don't know Teddy," Harry hung his head in his hands as he leant over his knees. "I don't have answers, I'm sorry, but I'm trying to fix it now. I'm trying to make it so I deserve you."

"And Ginny," Teddy added, the bite in his voice softening.

Harry chuckled, "I'll never deserve her, but I'm going to try and show her I'll do my best for her."

"Good," Teddy's teasing smile found its way onto his face, "because if you were thinking of doing something stupid I'd punch you in the mouth."

Harry shook his head but laughed in spite of himself.

Teddy put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gestured to the boxes, "Let's get started, we've got a lot to go through."

This was by far harder than being in his childhood home had been. The house had been so different that it had put a buffer up against the memories. But these boxes, they had no buffer. He didn't even remember what had gone in them, just Andromeda helping him fill them. Andromeda made most of the decisions of what stayed and went. She had been amazing. She helped Harry with his parents' home and the Black's home while also arranging everything for Ted's funeral. It had been such a blur, Harry merely remembered putting everything Andromeda handed him into the boxes, closing them, and hoping to never look at them again.

Harry managed to stay his tears until Teddy pulled out the book of fairy tales that his mum had read him every night as a small child. The tears came hard and fast after that, and they continued with each item pulled from the boxes. Some things were easier to look at, he was able to even laugh at some of the photos that were there. Other things pulled the breath out of him, like his parents' wedding rings, especially when he realized that Marlene and Sirius' rings were in one of their boxes. And some things brought the heavy sobs back, like his mum's paintings from when she decided she wanted to learn how to paint, specifically her portrait of him shortly after he started A-levels.

It went on like that for hours. At one point, Teddy ordered pizza. Later he pulled out ice cream. But as they kept going, the moments of laughter and fun stories started to outweigh the moments of heavy sobbing. And when they packed up the last box of his parents' things at nearly three in the morning, Harry wanted to pull it all back out and start hanging it all up on the walls and laying it out on the kitchen table.

"I'll go through Sirius and Marlene's things with you in the morning." Teddy yawned and stretched his arms over his head.

"Don't you have class tomorrow?" Harry rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses into his hair.

"It's just review for our exam and I'll be fine. This is more important. Besides," he chuckled, "I want to get to the stories about my parents."

"Then let's get to bed," Harry yawned, "because I have some work to do as well tomorrow."

Teddy followed Harry up there stairs and paused outside his bedroom. "It gets easier, Harry. There are still days where I miss them so much it drops me, but those days aren't nearly as often as they used to be, and I know it'll get there for you too."

Harry pulled Teddy into a hug and just held him. He had no idea what he'd been doing while raising his godson on his own. But obviously, he'd done something right for the kid to grow up to be so strong. And Harry felt security in knowing that he'd have Teddy in the rest of his life now. He was going to earn that. And maybe, if he could earn having Teddy in the rest of his life, Harry hoped he could earn it with Gin too.

_______________________________________

Harry and Teddy took another five hours to go through all of the Black's boxes the next day. Harry was tempted to stay on the keep the momentum and get started going through all of Remus and Tonks' things, but he also really wanted to see Ginny. And since he'd promised to see her that day, and he had been keeping Teddy from his fiancée, Harry decided to call a timeout. Teddy wholly agreed, and so Harry found himself heading to Ginny's shortly after she let him know she was leaving work.

His heart beat like gunfire as he drove and by the time he arrived at her door Harry was sure he was going to faint away from the speed of his palpitations.

But then there was Ginny.

She opened the door to him and threw herself into his arms, pressing her lips to his and clinging to his neck as though she might float away. Harry instantly returned her fervor, and as he did so he felt his heart slow down. He felt his breathing relax. And he felt his mind stop.

It was heaven.

And he stood in heaven for who knows how long, for all he knew it could have been the entire month of April, but Harry wasn't pulling away. He was going to lose himself in Ginny. He was going to drink her in and savor every sound she made, the way she tasted when he ran his tongue against her, her smell that filled his nostrils with what could only be described as flowery, and the feel of her body beneath his hands.

He never wanted to stop, but alas, cruel oxygen made them pull apart, and the need for air left them panting in the open doorway, clinging to each other.

"Want to come in?" Ginny chuckled and looked up at him.

"I'm rather enjoying this," Harry furrowed his brow and pretended to consider. Then he smirked.

"I know, let's go in and pick up where we left off out here, preferably someplace where I don't have to remain standing."

Ginny rolled her eyes but pulled him inside as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Talking first, and eating," she pointed to the stew reheating in a pot on the stove, "then we can pick up where we left off."

Harry smirked, "Alright, but know I'm only doing this because we'll need our strength for later."

"You're such a boy," she laughed, and Harry let the sound wash over him like a cool Spring breeze.

"How did the meeting with your client go?"

Harry cringed at the question. Leave it to Ginny to cut right to the heart of matters. But the sooner he talked through it all with her the sooner he could start showing her he could improve and become someone she could be proud of, someone she'd want to keep around.

Preferably forever.

"It went really well. I, er, well the client is an old friend, lives up north now."

"Really?" Ginny's voice was suddenly calm and level like you'd use to keep from spooking a kitten.

Harry sighed, he wasn't a frightened cat, just a broken man.

"Yes, he and I grew up together. I, er, I haven't seen him since there funeral for my family."

Ginny held out a bowl to him with a gentle smile. "Was it nice to see him in person again?"

Harry took the bowl and filled it, walked to the table and waited for Ginny to join him before continuing.

"Yes," he stirred his stew, "it was nice, the drive was good, stayed the night in a hotel. Neville is a psychologist now. I, well I wanted to talk to someone."

"There's nothing wrong with needing to talk to somebody, love." Ginny covered his free hand with her own.

"Yes, I get that, in theory." Harry took a deep breath. "Well, we talked, and he pointed out that I haven't grieved at all for my family, that I've locked myself off to feeling anything but anger about it all, that I was wrongfully accusing myself of their deaths, and that I need to stop."

Ginny squeezed his hand and Harry looked up to find nothing but love looking back at him.

"Can I help?"

It was so Ginny it made his heartache. He didn't deserve her, her love, her devotion, her caring. But dammit he wanted to!

"Just be patient with me. Nev said there will be days where I'll feel the grief more than others. But if I keep allowing myself to feel the emotions and work through them then it'll slowly get easier to move forward with my life."

"I can do that," Ginny grinned before taking a bite of stew.

Harry felt relief seep into his bloodstream and calm the nerves that had built up in him about talking this out with Gin. She didn't tell him to take a hike. She didn't point out what a stupid idiot he was. She held his hand and asked if she could help him.

He was one lucky prat.

And he decided to capitalize on the feeling. He pushed his bowl to the side and moved Gin's as well before renewing their earlier efforts with greater passion than he had before with the door open.

"Are you alright?" Ginny sighed into his ear as he moved his lips to her neck.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry whispered against her before realizing that she wasn't matching his passion with her own.

"Well, with everything you said, and with it being just yesterday, I thought…" Ginny trailed off as Harry slid his hand under her shirt.

"Gin," Harry chuckled, "I'm grieving, not dead."

Ginny laughed and relaxed into him, and it felt like home. Her hands in his hair, her lips on his skin, her soft sighs as his hands caressed her perfect body. Harry's resolve strengthened in that moment; all the pain was going to be worth it if it meant he kept this amazing creature with him. He was going to make himself worthy of her love. And then he was going to ask her to never leave.

"Harry," Ginny's voice pulled his conscious back.

He hummed against her skin, eager to return to the oblivion that only existed in her.

"I love you."

Harry pulled back and felt his chest tighten with emotion.

"I love you too," and he kissed her because he needed to show her how much he really did.

[past-present-future-cable]

This wasn’t supposed to happen-Angst Cable x fem!reader (If you wanted male or neutral I will happily fix it!)

The smell of antiseptic hung thickly in the air, clinging to the nostrils of everyone in the room. The awkward beeping from the heart monitor as it announced an uneasy heart rate was one of the only sounds in the room. The other was ragged breathing, sometimes punctuated by whimpers and groans. Nathan, Wade and Colossus stood around a narrow, single sized hospital bed in the heart of the medical wing of the manor, worry and guilt weighing them down heavily.

Today had been your first mission with the group. They’d all trained you for months. Colossus handled the hand to hand combat, Nathan taught you every way possible to kill someone with a gun and drilled you so often that you were surgical with almost any firearm. Wade taught you everything else. They wouldn’t let you join them until you beat all of them one-on-one. When you’d stood over their prone bodies, triumph radiating from you, it had been the best day of your life and they’d welcomed you as an equal and Nathan felt a strong sense of pride at your success.

Nathan was still protective and told you to stay close, earning him more than one snarky comment from Wade and a few innapropriate questions, even mimicking the two of you kissing. His taunts left Nathan steadily more annoyed. Halfway to the Ice Box to retrieve an innocent child who’d been detained, he decided to use Wade as target practice and his knives never missed the red clad mark.

One knife caught Wade in the chest which prompted him to screech ‘Shot through the heart’ at the top of his lungs the rest of the ride and your boyfriend looked like he would rather be dead than listening to your best friend butcher the song. Or pump a few slugs into Wade’s skull for a few seconds of peace.

You elbowed his side gently and sneaked your hand into his, the metal cool and smooth against your skin and the anger faded rapidly from his face to replaced by an easy calm that softened the hard edges of the lines of his face.

His left hand completely swallowed your right, trapping it in a steel cage.

That was what he was thinking about as he looked down at your pale body on the bed in front of him. The way your hand had looked in his.

Your hand was gone now, along with the entirety of your right arm and shoulder.

It had happened so quickly. The mission had been going smoothly and out of nowhere one of the more violent mutants in the Ice Box got free of their collar and started attacking people left and right. It didn’t matter if they were a fellow mutant or a DMC employee.  The man was blind with rage and was literally yanking people apart. You hefted your gun and leveled it at his chest...and he grabbed your arm and ripped it from your body. The pain had been so earth shattering that you blacked out before you hit the ground, your left hand clutching the bloody stump of flesh.

The sight of you slumped on the ground unconscious had thrown the well-trained soldier off his game and instead of making rational decisions and thinking of the mission, Nathan killed the man quickly-blowing his head clean off his shoulders and his body to the other side of the permanently damp prison lunch area.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Colossus saved the mutant all of you had been there for and Nathan lifted you and left ahead of them. Dopinder broke even traffic law to get you to the manor per Colossus’ orders and you were quickly, albeit roughly, stabilized and bandaged.

The question that hung in the air was “Now what?” Wade voiced it as Nathan rubbed your feet through the blanket when you suddenly whimpered and your heart rate sky rocketed for a few seconds. He didn’t give a damn if anyone saw, he knew it calmed you and in a few moments you were resting peacefully on the crisp bloodstained sheets.

“The damage done to her shoulder was severe, what’s left doesn’t seem suitable for the base of a prosthetic. It needs to be removed and after she heals, I can have a special one made for her but that’s only if Y/N survives.” The doctor, a woman who treated the X-men often, was checking your injury and sighing heavily. You were in rough shape. “I have...another idea but I’m not sure anyone will go for it even if it’s the best chance she has.” She looked at Nathan. “Your blood.”

“The hell you mean my blood?”

Then it dawned on him. The techno-organic virus. He’d told the woman as much about the virus as he knew and what it could do. He’d seen it regrow limbs and save lives in the few mutants who had enough telepathic ability to keep the infection in check and it could repair any injured tissue and bone you had. It could save your life. The pain that came with it was hell though and his gut reaction was to shut the idea down and demand the woman figure something else out.

“What about his blood?” Colossus asked. Nathan explained it simply without looking away from you, the light of his left eye brightened as his stomach burned. “Would that really work?” There was hope in the massive Russian’s voice and his head swiveled to face the doctor.

“She’s a telepath, with Cable’s help she could prevent the virus from spreading out of control and it would give her back her arm. If we’re going to do it we need to do it quickly. Like I said, it’s her best chance.”

Nathan nodded and she grabbed a syringe and pulled a few  CCs of blood and injected it directly into your right side, directly into the wound.

“All of you should leave. This isn’t something any of you are going to want to see.”

“Oh no, I am not leaving. Y/N wouldn’t leave us. How can you just think abandoning her is okay?” He was loud and your eyelids fluttered at the sudden change in volume.

“I didn’t say abandon her you fucking idiot!” Nathan spat. He wasn’t in the mood for Wade’s inability to grasp the situation.“Do you want to watch as her skin is ripped open and her bones push themselves out before the muscle turns to iron? Do you want to be here to watch her writhe-or hear her screaming for it to end, for someone to kill her?” His eyes were blazing. He’d seen the hell the virus put people through and lived through it first hand. He knew you wouldn’t want them to see this. He knew you wouldn’t want them to feel hopeless knowing there was nothing they could do to help you in any way. “Y/N won’t be here alone...I’m staying...I’m the only one who knows what she’s about to go through.” The hard edge that was normally in his voice was gone, replaced by something heavier, sadder.

Wade grit his teeth. He knew Nathan was right but you were one his best friends and he felt useless.

He hated it but he let Colossus lead him out of the sanitary room after telling you to get better soon, hoping you heard him.

Nathan sat on the edge of the bed, the frame creaking under his weight. His flesh and blood hand pushed your hair away from your face gently, his skin barely toughing yours as his shoulders sagged under the guilt of knowing every moment of pain you felt for the rest of your life would be directly his doing. Even if he saved your life, even if you didn’t grow to hate him because of just how awful it would be, he would never be able to look at your changed body and not hate himself for failing to keep you safe.

When he saw a muscle start to bulge under your skin, he held your left hand between both of his and rubbed it softly. He wasn’t going to leave you alone.

[laineysbucketlist]

Tagged in by @tattinglacework

Nickname: don’t have one.

I think I’m a Taurus but I’m not sure because it’s not something I think about very much.

Time: 1:14 pm when i started, 1:52 pm when I finished because I was interrupted partway through.

Song stuck in my head: that one by Engelbert Humperdinck that’s in Moon Knight.

Last movie I saw: probably Dune.

Last thing I googled: live slug reaction.

Other blogs: I don’t have a sideblog but I’m thinking of making one so that I can have one blog for my posts and reblogs that I add to and a sideblog for things that I reblog without commentary.

Do I get asks: no but if I did I would probably answer them.

Reasons for url: because I am Blaine and when I started this blog it was primarily items from my bucket list. So about a year and a half ago, I realized that I had a ton of good ideas, so I started writing them down on my notes app. About half a year ago, I decided to start a Tumblr blog and used the queue function to post one item from my bucket list per day. My list on the notes app has over two hundred items, but I only posted about the first half to Tumblr before I got tired of copying and pasting them over. If you guys want to see the rest of my bucket list though, I would happily post the second half. I should add though, I started making that list over a year ago- which means that some of it is from before I realized I was trans, before I left the Mormon church, and before my political views reached where they are today. So if something in my bucket list offends you, don’t worry it offends me too.

Following: 28 and I only barely manage seeing everything in my dash so idk how some of you are following hundreds of people. HOWEVER. Funny story. When I first joined Tumblr, I didn’t know who to follow, so I just followed every blog that made a post I liked. I ended up following 500 blogs before I figured out who I actually wanted to follow. There are also some blogs that I wish I could follow but can’t because I’m already following too many blogs.

Average sleep: passable.

Wearing: pajamas.

Dream trip: the universe is too big to decide.

Favorite food: see above. However, I do love cheese, meat, gravy, and chocolate as well as potatoes, some eggs, broccoli, good brussel sprouts, raw carrots, bananas, peanut butter, and milk.

Favorite instruments: Flutes because they sound great, any drums because they have a unique ability to add to another instrument without overpowering it, tubas because they’re big, saxophones because they are cool, and ocarinas because it is my responsibility as a Zelda fan. Oh and also accordions are cool and pianos are useful because they have such a huge range.

Tags: I don’t feel comfortable tagging anybody I know so I’m just going to tag in the first blog with Jared Leto in their url that comes up.

@jaredletooriginal-blog

Sorry buddy but you were the first result when I typed in Jared Leto so you have been chosen.

Rules: Answer 21 questions and tag 21 people (I don’t know the original 21 questions and I definitely don’t know 21 people lmaoo)

Tagged by: @voiddogs

Nickname: never had one

Star sign: violet blood 😔♒️

Current time: 10PM

Song stuck in my head: whoops sorry I don’t listen to music very often (my head is empty)

Last movie I saw: I’m pretty sure it was Candyman (2021)

Last thing I Googled: “swarm of bugs”

Other blogs: not yet (but eventually)

Do I get asks: yeah sometimes but I forgot to check

Reason for URL: Stag beetles are sick as hell

Following: 197

Average sleep: erratic but I’m working on it

Currently wearing: Starwars tshirt and some shorts

Dream trip: to a non specific very cold mountain creek, potentially with lots of shade

Favorite food: A local restaurant made spinach quesadilla but the restaurant got new owners and the spinach quesadilla recipe is different and ruined :( (I will never experience my favorite food ever again)

Favorite Instruments: I love the violin and wish I knew where I put mine

Tags (You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to)

@unpheenix @heathenhouse @hegodamask @jekyllnahyena @puirell @spicedrobot

help I forgot some of you guy’s urls so just anyone feel free to just do it

[allyinthekeyofx]

Fading Light - Part 1 - 1/6

Summary - Scully’s cancer returns and hope comes at a high price.

This is sort of AU but is set in season seven. There are references to season seven episodes but ‘All Things’ hasn’t happened.  We switch between Scully POV and Mulder POV throughout the whole fic.

I will post a chapter every day without fail.

PART ONE

Prologue

My Father once told me that secrets are like old wounds. That no matter how skilfully we hide the scars, they are still there, lingering beneath the surface. Invisible to the eye, but all too obvious if we take the time to really feel them. There are no good secrets. Even the ones we hide in our hearts to protect the people we love will eventually find a way to push themselves up through the layers of deception.

I've discovered that we can never hope to protect through lies and after all, isn't a secret just another name for a lie?

Semantics

Mulder would laugh if he could hear me now. Arguing with myself as I lay, eyes wide open, staring up at the patterns made by the street lamps refracted through the rain that streams down my window.

I'm not sure what time it is. I don't seem to sleep much, which is strange, because all I want to do at this moment is close my eyes and sink down into its welcoming arms.

To escape from the accusatory voices in my head for a short while would be wonderful, but I just can't seem to relax enough. If I'm honest with myself though, I'm well aware of the reason for my insomnia.

It is guilt; pure and simple.

I have a secret, and no matter how often I tell myself that I am keeping it from him to protect him, I still feel its presence every minute of every day. I keep it hidden because in doing so I am attempting to shield him from a truth he is ready to neither hear nor accept.

Every day I keep the truth from him is another day spent tiptoeing around him, so afraid that he will look into my eyes and see my lies. It was easy in the beginning.

Mulder was still shattered over the death of his Mother and I was there for him as he fell apart piece by harrowing piece, supporting him as he has supported me throughout our partnership. I watched over him like the proverbial mother hen as his quest threatened to take him over the edge, ready to drag him back should the need have arisen.

For once he didn't need me to catch him and as each day passed he learned more facts behind his sister's disappearance and finally, finally I was rewarded when he came back to me. Not entirely at peace sure - we have seen and experienced too much for that ever to happen - but I saw the stress literally roll off him as, in his own words, he was set free.

How can I take that sense of peace away from him now?

I have remained silent, promising myself, as I promise myself now, that tomorrow I will tell him, just as I have made the same promise on so many nights past.

Promises to myself I know I won’t keep.

Chapter One

Mulder is not in the sweetest of moods. He tries his best to hide it, but it was obvious from the moment he arrived flustered and dishevelled at my door this morning.

I'm not sure exactly why we started this whole car pool thing. It certainly wasn't out of any sense of wanting to save the planet, it just kind of happened.

I had offered Mulder a ride home one night when he was without his car - I can't remember why he was without it - and he decided it was only right and proper to return the favour. It seems to have set a pattern now that neither of us is willing to break, and it's strange really, but I kind of enjoy it. I like the fact that his face is the first one that greets me every morning.

Usually I like it that is.

But on days like today, when he is edgy and tense, I wish to hell I could just make him stop the damn car so I can escape out in to the clogged Washington streets and hail a cab. We have hardly spoken during the ride in, just the barest early morning pleasantries. No small talk, no innuendo, no teasing glances. In fact, so far all Mulder has given me is the charming view of his set profile as he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.

We are running late for the office, which is never a good thing, especially not today. Today is the second Wednesday in the month. Second Wednesdays mean inter-departmental meetings. Which in turn usually mean bureaucratic scrutiny of our recently submitted expense reports. I hate the meetings almost as much as Mulder does. The difference being, that I don't tend to show it quite as blatantly. But at least we no longer have to suffer the dubious pleasure of AD Kersch as we attempt to justify flying halfway across the country on nothing more substantial than some redneck's sighting of lights in his cow field. Skinner is no less forgiving when we balls things up, but he’s more used to it and therefore more accepting of it.

Mulder mutters something under his breath as the car in front slows down to a virtual crawl. I don't bother trying to figure out what it was. The very fact that we are attempting to negotiate rush hour traffic pretty much tells me that whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant and certainly has no need for a response from me. So instead, I just lean my head against the seat rest and close my eyes against the headache that is beginning to pulse at the centre of my forehead.

I think that the headaches were the first clear sign that something wasn't right, although for a couple of weeks I was able to pretty much deny their existence. Self-denial is a powerful force, a bit like encasing a broken ankle in a plaster cast. The pain is gone, pushed in to the background, and it's almost impossible to imagine that the broken bone ever happened at all. Until of course you walk on it at the wrong angle and the pain is back to remind you to take more care.

That's how it was with me. Only my versions of the plaster cast were non-prescription pain pills. Until they weren't enough, even when foolishly, I was taking well over the required dosage.

And then came the day when I couldn't deny it any longer. I remember it vividly. A Saturday spent shopping with my Mother I was in so much pain I could hardly stand. She noticed of course and I remember making vague assurances that I was fine, made my excuses and headed for home. I made it through the door, watched as the room began to spin in that endearing way I had come to recognize from scant years back in the early manifestations of the disease, and woke up three hours later on the floor, still clutching my house keys in my hand.

I wish now with all my heart that I had answered the basic need that pounded incessantly in my head.

Call Mulder.

Instead I had called Dr Zuckerman.

Every day since then, I have been trying to find the right words, the right moment, to broach the subject with Mulder, and right along with it, I have found a thousand excuses as to why now isn't the right time.

Of course I realize that the right time is never going to happen, and that the longer I keep putting it off, the harder it's going to get.

Especially since I have already decided that this time, treatment to prolong the inevitable is not an option for me and whilst I don’t profess to really know or understand exactly what my ‘cure’ entailed the last time around, I am smart enough to realise that its mechanism would never be found written on a treatment protocol. So I have opted to do nothing. To wait out the inevitable. I will continue to work for as long as I can. Until I’m once again incapable. But for how long I can keep up the pretence is anyone’s guess.

Not to mention the fact that Mulder is neither stupid nor blind. Eventually he will figure this thing out for himself, and deep down, I can't help wondering if he already suspects something. A paranoid little voice is whispering that I am the reason for his dark mood this morning. Which when I think about it is ridiculous.

Oh yeah. Guilt really sucks.

Suddenly, I am catapulted from my musings and transported violently back in to the here and now as Mulder curses loudly, swerving the car savagely to the left even before the word is fully formed on his lips.

"FUCK!"

I'm not entirely sure what he has seen to provoke such a reaction. Mulder rarely, if ever curses aloud. And then I hear it. A sound I have become so attuned to over the years I could recognize it in my sleep.

The sound of gunfire. Close by.

My senses hone in on the sound, and beside me Mulder is already moving, unbuckling his Seat belt and reaching for the door handle in one fluid movement. Even as I automatically follow his lead I am still searching for answers as to why exactly we have come to a halt in the middle of rush hour traffic. But, like pieces of a jigsaw the answers fall together as I finally see what he sees.

My years on the job have taught me to assimilate information pretty quickly. Headache or not, this is no exception. In the space of a heartbeat my consciousness has thrown several words at me.

Bank. Alarms. Guns. Robbery

Great. Just another fun day in the lives of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, where even a ride to work has the capacity to become a fucked up nightmare.

The shoes I chose to wear today are definitely not made for pounding the pavement. More blisters for me tonight.

Mulder of course doesn't have quite the same fashion impairment and even before I have fully cleared the car door he has taken off like a track star, waving his gun around and cutting a swath through the early morning streets like Moses parting the Red Sea. He can move pretty fast for a guy approaching forty, and, whilst I am not exactly a slug myself, an extra six inches of leg length makes all the difference and I find myself trailing further and further behind.

As I run, I can hear Mulder shouting something, but the wind is against me and his words are lost in the slipstream making them almost unintelligible. Instead, I concentrate on keeping him in sight. The perp is somewhere ahead and by the pace Mulder is keeping, seems to have no intention of giving up the fight easily.

I'm not sure what happens next.

A deafening sound that threatens to split my now pounding head in two; Mulders horrified shout.

"SCULLY!"

A blow that stops me in my tracks and slams me to the ground.

It's funny actually, because even as I am aware of falling, I don't feel anything other than a faint buzzing in my head as the pavement rushes up to meet me. No pain, no fear and certainly no understanding as to what has just happened.

But through the white noise that surrounds me, I hear another gunshot. And then another.

The sound seems to act as a catalyst for my own awareness and the dreamlike quality I had wallowed in for maybe a couple of seconds is replaced by a burning hot pain that seems to radiate through my whole body.

Shit. This really hurts.

I am reminded of the time when I fell out of the tree house that my brother Bill had spent the summer building with his cronies. I had been mercilessly chased away every time I dared show my face. A seven year old younger sister - a girl - had not been welcome in that den of pre-pubescent masculinity.

So, tomboy that I was, I had snuck over there one night and undertaken the precarious climb through the twisted boughs to reach what was forbidden to me; I'd made it up ok -getting down though had been a different undertaking all together and trees tend not to be very forgiving to seven year olds who don't have the sense to realize when they are way out of their depth. I nursed a broken wrist for the rest of the summer, and it had taken years for me to forget the white hot pain I felt as that fragile bone snapped cleanly.. But, with typical childhood resilience I had forgotten.

Until now that is.

Flesh wounds hurt. Gunshot wounds hurt. Damaged bones hurt like a bitch.

I'm unsure as to how much time has elapsed since I first heard Mulder shout out my name although I suspect it is no more than a few seconds at most.

Mulder

Shit, where is he?

Three shots Dana.

Count em.

Three.

Oh Fuck.

My eyes snap open, which in itself is futile really because I can't seem to focus on anything other than the pavement which is tilting at an impossible angle before me. I can just make out a collection of coloured blobs in the near distance and although they are fuzzy around the edges I am able to recognize them as being human. From their size and shape I am also able to determine that they are crouched down, hugging the ground as thought their lives depend on it.

But my only thought right now is for Mulders well being. Nothing else matters to me and not for the first time I am aware that what I feel for him goes way beyond the accepted boundaries of our friendship, because, had it been anyone other than Mulder, I would just close my eyes and allow myself some respite from the terrible pain that now overwhelms me.

But sometimes, even the purest love cannot conquer the frailties of the human body. As I shift my weight fractionally to the right in order to release the arm that is trapped beneath me, I am engulfed in a wave of agony so intense that despite myself I close my eyes and scream. Maybe I screamed out his name. I don't know. But it doesn't matter anyway. Nothing matters except the sudden feeling of Mulder's hands on my face, smoothing away the hair that is plastered against my cheeks. And I hear his voice from far away. He is frightened. I have frightened him.

Just like he's frightened me in the past.

So much fear for two people to bear in a lifetime.

"Sssshhhhhhh Scully, It's ok....don't try to move...it's gonna be ok. Ssssshhhhhhh."

Slowly the pain diminishes a fraction and I am able to open my eyes again. Maybe a little of the initial shock has subsided, or perhaps a gnawing desperation that needs me to know he's ok, allows me to finally focus enough to look deep in to his eyes.

Mulder has beautiful eyes, the most expressive eyes I have ever seen in my life. I could easily lose myself in their depths, which is why I don't allow myself to stare in to them too often. Right now he is fighting tears and not making a very fine job of it. I know how he feels. I've been there too. I've watched him hurting far more times than I care to remember and each and every time I have found myself crying real tears for him when he has been unable to shed his own.

Just like he is crying for me now.

Despite the pain, I am able to shakily reach up a hand that feels like a dead weight and catch that first tear as it escapes its confines. Watching as it traces a crystalline trail down my finger. I want to speak, to let him know I'm fine, but just that small movement has left me as weak as a day old kitten snatched from its Mother and I just want to close my eyes and sleep. Instead, I fix my gaze on his; attempting to communicate to him through sight what I am unable to do with speech.

I'm so sorry I didn't tell you Mulder. And now it's too late.

He is going to find out.

My secret is no longer going to be mine alone and I need to hang on to consciousness for as long as I can, because, I know that if I close my eyes now, the next time I open them, everything will have changed.

Continued chapter 2