#after this and the time I fell off my doorstep and broke my ribs in really starting to fear the floor

[cassowariess]

I tripped and fell over, slamming into the ground yesterday and now half of my body is ultra sore. Have taken painkillers but it's keeping me awake. Really annoying.

Also I really need to lose weight, because trust me, hitting the ground when you weigh more fucking hurts worse.

[sampigehoovu]

the lovers of aditha karikalan

Aditha, who I think is a perfect 10th century hero and the many people who might have encountered him.

the courtesan of Kanchi

The first time she had laid eyes on the crown prince, had been when he entered the city; seated on a white horse, hair tied into a half bun at the base of skull, armour engraved with tigers*. She had thrown flowers too; everyone was excited to see the crown prince, he was even more handsome in person.

The second time had been during a particularly cruel monsoon storm, when the Palar** was expected to break its banks any day.

The sky was grey, rain poured down in relentless sheets and Karikalan had been at the forefront of evacuating villages along with his soldiers into higher ground. He had found himself, along with his grandfather and friend, Parthibendra Pallavan at her doorstep.

He had addressed her, in a deep baritone that had her stunned for a second, “Devi, we apologise for the sudden intrusion but my companions and I find ourselves in need of shelter. We began our journey to the city too late.”

She bowed her head, suddenly shy in the presence of this towering man, “You are welcome to stay as long as you require Ilavarase.”

He had nodded his thanks, and followed her servants to the rooms that they had always kept for unexpected guests. They had left, early the next morning and she had watched him ride away from the balcony.

For a few nights after, she was haunted by dreams of running into a man in the rain. Both of them soaked to the bone under a tree in some forest,

his body against hers,

gasps of pleasure as he thrust into her,

his face buried in her neck, arms around her hips,

her nails running down a powerful back.

The next time he came around, he was unconscious. Parthibendran had carried him away from a distance battlefield, where he had collapsed after landing the final blow of victory. He had his head on her lap while the physician had closed his wounds, his anguished screams muffled into her thighs as she held his arms down.

“I suggest he stays here for a few days, until the fever subsides,” the physician had said.

They spoke, for the first time at length while she had helped with his bandages, and he had laughed his booming laugh, looking at her with eyes that sparkled with so much mirth that her breath left her for a moment.

For weeks after, gifts flowed into her house; precious gems, exotic perfumes, soft silks.

He came by frequently too, late into the night, ‘to listen to her sweet music to calm his nerves.’

To look, to listen, to speak, never to touch.

But he knew he was trapping her in his charms.

That half smirk when she won a game against him,

The way he caressed the veena which he played while she sang,

The fire in his eyes when she wore a gift he had sent.

The hitch in his breath, when she broke the rule once and had run her hand down his muscled arm while handing him the tamboola.

It was monsoon again, when they started playing new games. He had come by, drenched in the rain, having helped with the flood evacuations. She had pulled the armour off him, kissing away the droplets of water that were making their way down his body. Her hands on his powerful thighs, her mouth on the dip of his hip bones.

Hands in her hair, moans filling her ears.

She was pressed into the bed before she knew it, his mouth on her breasts, counting her ribs, biting into her waist, leaving marks on her thighs.

Thunder and lightning raged outside as she rose and fell in ecstasy.

She had languidly licked salty sweat off his shoulders and neck.

The last time she saw him, was the night his brother had disappeared.

He was agitated, his nightmares never ending, she had held him, soothed him.

News of the younger prince’s drowning had taken him from the warmth of her arms, to the cold embrace of death.

She refused to remember his nightmares, his anguished screams for his long-lost lover, the depths of despair of a man who chipped away at his own soul with each life he took.

She refused to remember the crown prince, dripping with ambition, unrestrained in his fury and straining at the noose of administrative bureaucracy.  

She would remember her lover. His warm golden skin, gentle caressed by the sun.

His long hair that tangled with hers too often.

His calloused fingers that held spears with the same confidence with which he held her. His strong chest pressed into her, as she strained her hips in search of the beautiful friction of their bodies. 

His body as much as weapon as his sword.

His kisses executed the same way he went about decimating the enemy.

His tongue, whip sharp and capable of leaving her a moaning mess in the matter of minutes. Aditha Karikalan, who loved with the same intensity with which he went to war.

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

*the costume designers of Ponniyin Selvan mentioned how they put tigers for Karikalan and elephants for Arunmozhi, so much thought has gone into these details.

**I do not know if this river floods, or how close it is to Kanchi but this is fiction so I have suspended some of my own disbelief.

[beekindacool]

Remus Lupin x Reader

Gender: female (she/her)

Word count: 2033

TW: none

You sat in the Gryffindor common room, just right in front of the fire. Behind you sat your dear friend, Lily Evans. The two of you had known one another since pretty much birth. Your mothers were best friends and you had followed in their steps. It was pure luck that you and Lily had turned out to be witches together. Even more luck when you were both sorted into Gryffindor. Now, though, you were in your sixth year.

You looked over to Lily, she was finishing up her Potions homework when James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew obnoxiously came running down the stairs from their dorm rooms.

“Ladies! Lovely evening, innit?” Sirius hummed, dancing towards you and Lily. You scrunched up your nose slightly, mocking a face of disgust. In actuality, you enjoyed the presence of The Marauders, despite how over-the-top they could be. After all, they had been there for Lily after the fallout with Snape last year.

James scooted himself over next to Lily, he tried wrapping an arm around her shoulder but she shooed him away, a smile was undeniably growing on her face. Yes, Lily was into James but she always denied it.

Sirius made a comment, teasing them probably but you had turned your attention towards Remus. You didn’t realize it before but he stood next to you now.

“It’s painful watching those two, really!” The tall boy whisper-yelled to you, letting out a chuckle afterwards. You never really paid any mind to Remus. He was always a bit more quiet than James and Sirius. Peter, too, with all his anxious fits.

You studied his face for a bit, noticing the long pink scar that went across his face. His deep blue eyes that looked sad despite the small smile he had on. The light stubble on his chin. The way his hair was wavy and sort of swooped over like in the movies. Remus Lupin was *really* pretty.

Remus cleared his throat just loud enough for you to snap out of your daze. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m... I am so sorry. Merlin, I did not mean to come off as creepy or anything I just! I-“ You were cut off by Remus.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/L/N. It’s okay to be curious about my scars.” He consoled, patting your shoulder with his hand lightly.

Your time with Remus was cut short when James called for him as the rest of the boys were leaving through the painting. Remus said a quick goodbye and jogged towards his friends.

Letting out a sigh, you sat next to Lily and she laid her head in your lap. You played with her fiery red locks as she rambled on about James being absolutely ridiculous.

Later that night, you still sat in the common room but now alone. You laid on the couch and watched the dying fire. You thought about Remus: his hand in yours, cuddling, etc. All that romantic cheesy stuff. You couldn’t help it, it was the hopeless romantic in you.

As if on cue, though, The Marauders entered the common room again. James and Sirius greeted you and ran back into their dorms, giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls as Peter followed behind them. Remus didn’t follow them, instead he came over to you. Quickly, you sat up straight and made room for Remus. He sat down on the opposite side and turned his whole body towards you, lifting his knees up to his chest.

For the next hour, you and Remus talked about almost anything and everything. It was easy to get comfortable with him, everything about him made you feel warm and at home.

After that night in the common room, the two of you became almost attached to the hip when he wasn’t hanging out with The Marauders. He eventually trusted you enough to tell you about his “condition”. Remus was with you all throughout seventh year, too. And with each moment you spent with him, the more you fell in love with him.

It was Lily and James’ wedding day. You were the maid of honor and Sirius was the best man. The wedding was a small one; James’ parents, Remus, and Peter being the only others to attend due to the first war.

The summer breeze gently tousled Lily’s hair. She looked just like a princess would. The top of the dress hugged her torso and flowed out into a tea length. It was a little simple but easy to move in. You wore a light lemony yellow dress, it was an a-line with a small cape over it.

The ceremony had quickly ended and all of you went to Lily and James’ home to eat dinner. The whole night was full of laughter and utter joy, everyone was able to forget about the terrors outside for just a little bit.

That night, Remus took you home.

“I hope you know you looked absolutely beautiful tonight, Y/N. Really.” He commented as the two of you got to your doorstep. Remus had a cheeky smile on his face and he shifted awkwardly as he waited for a response.

“Thank you. You looked really handsome too, you git.” You let out a small laugh and avoided eye contact with Remus, your face was undeniably as red as a cherry.

He gently held your cheek with one hand, making you look at him. Remus pursed his lips for a moment before speaking again.

“C-can I kiss you?” He stuttered out, wincing as his voice cracked just a bit. You couldn’t help but grin ear to ear at him, he was absolutely adorable. You nodded though and leaned up, pulling Remus into a kiss. It was sweet. He was sweet. Remus tasted like chocolate.

After that, you and Remus dated for a bit. About three years, actually. It was going absolutely perfect with Remus until Lily and James had been murdered. It broke your heart. Both of your hearts.

You tried making your relationship work after the war. It just didn’t feel the same anymore with no Lily, no James, no Peter, or Sirius.

It was a mutual decision to split. Remus moved away to Merlin knows where. He didn’t send any owls. He didn’t contact you at all afterwards. You couldn’t blame him.

Things eventually began looking up for you as years passed. Dumbledore sent you an owl, offering you a teaching position as the new charms professor and had also mentioned Harry Potter would be attending as a first year. Without a second thought, you accepted.

Now, it was your third year teaching at Hogwarts. You were so unbelievably proud of Harry with the things he had accomplished in his first and second year. You were close with him, always telling him stories about Lily and James. Harry considered you his aunt... at least one he actually liked.

You sat in the Great Hall, waiting for the other professors to arrive. You were excited to find out who the next DADA professor was. Or anxious? The last two you met were interesting to say the least... one being a traitor and the other being a fraud. Becoming bored of waiting, though, you began to doze off.

Next thing you knew, Snape was sitting next to you and dug his elbow into your rib, causing you to let out a quiet curse. He not-so-discreetly motioned over to a man sitting at the opposite end of the dining table. You thought it was Remus.

Snape knew that you and Remus had been in a relationship. You told him everything. He apologized for everything that had happened in the past. You couldn’t fully forgive him, not after he had become a death eater. You were able to tolerate him enough, though.

“Is that... Lupin? Remus Lupin?” You asked Snape slowly, unsure if whether or not your eyes were deceiving you. Snape let out a low yes.

And on cue, Dumbledore stood up and introduced the man you loved for all these years. You watched as he did an awkward bow to the students. He was so handsome still. When he sat back down, you could’ve sworn he looked back at you for a second.

After everyone was finished with their meals, students were the first to leave the Great Hall, leaving the professors to mingle for a bit before their first classes.

You tried staying close to Snape, acting as if you were busy but that didn’t stop Remus from coming up to you.

“Professor Y/L/N. It’s been quite some time! You’re looking well.” Remus cheerily greeted, his hands were dug in his pockets as he looked you up and down, obviously checking you out.

“I’m right here too, you know...” Snape hissed, one side of his top lip slightly curled in disgust. Remus threw his hands up and acted as if he was surprised to see Snape.

“Merlin! Sniv- I mean Snape. Hello!” Remus chuckled, he looked at you as you tried stifling giggles. You remembered when The Marauders would call Snape “Snivellous”.

Snape, finding Remus to be unfunny, scoffed and left to prepare for his Potions class. Now, it was just you and Remus. It was awkward.

“How’ve you been?” You finally asked, your voice became softer. You knew he had a hard time finding work because of his lycanthropy.

“I’m... I’m better than how I was last time we saw one another.” His voice wavered a bit, your last memories together were painful to remember.

“I missed you. I hope you know that.” You choked out, pulling him in for a hug. Your forehead was pressed against his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. You felt him hesitate but Remus stroked your hair.

The two of you were interrupted when Dumbledore cleared his throat. “It’s time for your classes, professors.”

“We’ll talk later, okay Y/N?” Remus pulled away from you and ruffled your hair a little bit before setting off to class. You waited a few moments before setting off yourself.

The whole day you thought about Remus. You were unsure about whether or not you were excited to talk or if you were going to explode from nervousness.

After dinner and students were sent to their dorms, you met with Remus in the library. The two of you sat at a table in the back corner. It used to be where you held your study dates with him.

“Right... where should we start?” He asked, folding his hands over the table. You could tell he was nervous.

“Have you been seeing anybody?” You blurted out, it was the first thing that came to your mind.

“No. No, I haven’t seen anybody since you.” Remus chuckled, raking a hand through his hair. He hesitated before speaking again.

“In all honesty Y/N, I couldn’t bring myself to be with anyone else. You were the only girl I’d ever loved. The only one I still love.” He said softly, lowering his head. You wanted to cry. To scream. To jump into his arms. Anything.

“I... I feel the same way. I love you still. Even after all these years. I always will.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

You felt tears start dripping from your eyes. It was barely noticeable at first but then they had just coming out like a faucet. Remus stood up, panicking.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked, picking you up and sitting you on the edge of the table. Remus stood in between your legs and wiped your tears best he could.

“I just missed you so much,” you choked out in between sobs, “I thought about you everyday and here you are standing right in front of me again. It’s all I’ve ever wanted since forever.”

Remus let out a soft laugh and shook his head. He took your face in his hands and kissed you. It was desperate and passionate. You tried making up for all the kisses you missed over the past thirteen years.

You were ready to build a future with Remus again. You were going to make it work with him through thick and thin.

[arvandus]

CONGRATS ON 500 OMG 🎉🎉🎉 IT'S MORE THAN DESERVED!!!!

Can I put in a request for All Might, #35 with a fluff ending?

Sooo.... I’m gonna be honest, I was so excited when I saw this request because.... angsty dialogue with a happy ending?  That shit is my jam.  And with All Might?  Perfect.

 A couple things before we get started: I went with All Might in his skinny form, cuz the prompt lends itself to that (so sorry if you were hoping for buff Might!) Also, took the artistic liberty of giving reader a healing quirk for this one called ‘Cat’s Cradle.’ You’ll (hopefully) see why it’s called that when you read it…

 I hope you enjoy, and sorry it’s taken so long to get this out!

 Um... Warnings: Blood (sorry, it’s Yagi... kinda a given), angst + happy ending

 Word Count: 3,223 and no regrets!

35. “I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself.”

 There was a familiar knock at your door, and in an instant you knew exactly who it was.  Your teeth clenched, your jaw stiffened.

 You weren’t going to answer it. Not this time.

 Knock knock knock

 You waited, frozen, unwilling to move, yet listening intently.  The sound of wet, guttural coughing reverberated through the wooden barrier.

 God damn it.

 When it came to a certain world-famous hero, it didn’t really take much for you to give up your resolve.  You made your way to the door and peeked through the peephole.  Yagi supported himself with one hand against the door frame as his other hand clutched at his chest.  The front of his shirt was bunched in his grasp, blood coating his pale hands and the white fabric beneath it.  A curse fell from your lips as your hands unlatched the lock on your door, swinging it wide open.

 Yagi looked up at you with grateful blue eyes, sunken deep into dark pits. His wild, blond hair stuck to his ashen face with sweat, his brow furrowed in pain.

 “Hey,” he greeted with a lighthearted grin.

 “Jesus Christ, Yagi…” you growled.

 You grabbed him by the elbow and ushered him into your space before closing and locking the door behind you.

 There was no time to rush him into the bathroom like you normally did.  Instead, you had him sit in a dining chair and began to peel off his blood-soaked shirt.  Just as the fabric lifted off his head, another round of coughing doubled him over, blood splattering the tiled floor.

 “Shit…” Yagi muttered.

 “Don’t worry about it.” You replied.  But it was hardly convincing.  Your tone was cold and hard with frustration.

 You weren’t mad about the floor, though… honestly, you couldn’t have cared less. What mattered was the man currently looking like he was on Death’s doorstep.  It pained you to see him so clearly suffering, his skin covered in sweat and blood even as he tried to smile reassuringly at you.  It didn’t matter how bright his smile was; it held little weight against the scar carved into his side, or the atrophy that stretched over his bones.

 Your heart couldn’t handle much more of this.

 Gently, you pressed your hands against the front of Yagi’s shoulders until he was sitting up, back straight.  Even without his buff form, Yagi was tall.  With your body so close to his, you could feel his ragged breath on your cheek, hear the air rattling from his lungs like leaves.  You couldn’t help but look him in the eyes then, and a faint flush crept across his sallow cheeks that made your own skin feel hot.

 “Stay still.” You instructed.

 You carefully placed one hand in front of his chest and the other behind his back, your fingertips hovering over his body.  Glowing, translucent-white threads emanated from your fingers, passing through him to connect together deep within his lungs. Slowly, you began weaving, fingers dancing and flicking like a game of Cat’s Cradle as your quirk stitched and healed the damaged tissue.  It was painstaking work, what was left of his lungs already in poor condition, and the more he pushed himself past his limits, the harder it was to repair what he’d repeatedly broken.  Sweat beaded your brow as you worked, your hands moving meticulously.  One wrong move, one wrong stitch…

 But you’d done this countless times over the years.  It was nearly second nature to you now… you knew his body nearly as well as your own.  You stared at the glistening red staining from his lips to his chest as you worked, your vision blurred as you focused on your quirk’s senses.

 Slowly, you could hear Yagi’s ragged breaths begin to improve.  His gasps for air filled deeper into his chest, expanding his rib cage.  His exhales followed clean and steady.  The tension in his face relaxed, his brow smoothing over as he closed his eyes.

 Finally, you broke the connection and slumped into your own chair, exhaustion overtaking you.  It was far from perfect, but it was the best you could do given his level of deterioration. You watched Yagi take a few more deep, experimental breaths before he looked up at you.  You opened your mouth to scold him, your brow furrowed into a frown, but froze as soon as you saw his gentle expression become guarded as he prepared for your verbal onslaught.

 An ache filled your throat where your words were supposed to be, and you closed your mouth.  How easy it was to revert back to old habits when you were together.  The two of you were broken; the same old wounds seeping red because they were never given a chance to properly heal.

 You weren’t going to go through it again; not this time.  You were too tired.  And it wasn’t like it made much difference anyway.  It didn’t matter how much you begged, cried, or yelled.  Yagi wouldn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.

Silence fell between you as you both stared at each other, the space between you feeling empty. No doubt your hurt was evident in your face, your body language, your eyes.  And if there was one thing you knew Yagi hated, it was seeing you upset.  He wanted to hold you.  You could see it in the way his body leaned towards you of its own accord, arms shifting just the slightest bit closer to your torso.  You could see the words on the edge of his tongue too, suspended between parted, bloodstained lips.

 Don’t. A part of you begged.  You didn’t want his comfort.  You didn’t want his excuses.

 Just as his mouth opened wider to speak, you averted your eyes and shifted your body away from him.  It was difficult – painful, as if you were a plant being pulled from the earth, fragile roots breaking in the soil.

 “You should go clean up.” You said quietly.

 Another long pause greeted you before he finally spoke.  “Yeah.  Okay.” He stood.  “Do you still have my clothes?”

 “Yeah. Dresser, bottom drawer.” You replied.

 Yagi excused himself, and a moment later you heard the sound of running water in the bathroom.  You stared at the bloodied floor and the stained shirt balled up on your table.  Nausea filled you, twisting your gut.

 Quickly, you grabbed your cleaning supplies and set to work, watching as the blood soaked into the white paper towels like an inkblot test.  Each fresh bloom of crimson spelled the foreshadowing you tried to erase, until you were wiping and scrubbing at the floor in frantic anger, tears dripping from your lashes.  It felt futile.  No matter how many paper towels you used, you always seemed to need more.

 By the end of it, the trash can was full, the roll noticeably smaller than when you had started.  You added Yagi’s ruined shirt to the top of the pile and stashed the bin away out of sight beneath your kitchen sink.  You’d take it out as soon as he left.  

 You could still hear the shower running in your bathroom, so you went to your living room and slouched onto your couch, waiting for Yagi to finish.

 You had hoped that cleaning up the mess would help reduce the severity from the situation, help you mask your growing fears.  But it was too late.  All you could see was red.  The red on his lips, the red on your floor, the red in the paper towels...

 The emotions you had hoped you could suppress until he left began to crest in you, and you vacated the living room in favor of the privacy of your bedroom. Maybe if you could let a few tears out during his shower, then you’d have enough composure until he left.  You curled onto your bed, your pillow clutched tightly in your arms as you buried your face into the plush fabric.

 For so long you’d held out, hoping that one day he’d understand.  That he’d see the damage to his body, see how quickly he was deteriorating.  That he’d see the fear in your eyes every time he showed up on your doorstep needing your help.  You’d hoped that your countless conversations would eventually amount to something, your words secretly unravelling the veil he chose to wear over his eyes as he fought battle after battle.

 It was that pesky, lingering hope that had been keeping you going.  Hope that eventually, there’d be an end to it all. Hope that Yagi could finally stop killing himself for the sake of the greater good.  Hope that the two of you could eventually pick up where you’d fallen and live a happy life.

 And it was hope that made you open the door for him each time.

 But now, that hope was finally gone.  You were done trying.  You realized it as soon as you’d finally given up talking to him – finally given up trying to save him.

 An emptiness took its place, cold and heavy.  Its absence gave no place for your love to nest, no place for your dreams to take root.  All you had left was the heavy, gut-wrenching reality that eventually, inevitably, you’d lose him.  Either he’d die in battle, or worse… He’d show up at your doorstep, his body beyond repair, and the only thing you’d be able to do is hold him as his lungs filled with blood.

 Your chest constricted so tightly at that single, horrible thought that you couldn’t even breathe, your lungs burning in a frantic need for oxygen.  There was nothing in the world worse than that single moment coming to life.  But you couldn’t erase it, couldn’t run from it.  It sat there, as real and permanent as the blood-soaked rags lurking in your kitchen trash.  You tried to suck air into your lungs, but the knot in your throat didn’t allow it, a suffocating sob lodged like a rock.  Your arms tightened around your pillow.

 You were going to lose him.  And there was nothing you could do about it.

 Grief settled itself onto your shoulders, heavy as an anchor.  Grief for a future that could never be. Grief for the death of a love that never fully had a chance to bloom. Grief for a man who would eventually slip through your fingers to become bones and dust, leaving nothing but the ache of his memory upon your soul.  You buckled under its weight, the heavy sob finally spilling from your parted lips as tears soaked into your pillow.

 You didn’t even notice as Yagi entered the room to find you curled up in your bed, sobbing.

 “Hey…” He whispered as he rushed over.

 His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you up against his bony chest, your head tucked under his chin.

 “Hey, hey…” he soothed as he held you.

 You leaned into his embrace, letting his presence envelop you.  Maybe you should have fought it; pushed him away instead of letting yourself indulge.  But it felt too good, too safe, and your arms tightened around him selfishly as you cried.  It brought back familiar memories of a time when the two of you had been happy, surrendering to your feelings for each other, before it all fell apart.  

 God, how you missed this.  Love had never been the issue for the two of you.  No, that was the easy part.  But it wasn’t enough.  Not when all of Japan rested on his shoulders, leaving little space for you no matter how deeply he cared for you.

 He held you as you cried, silently holding the space for you, his arms a safety net for all of the emotional weight you couldn’t carry alone.  Your tears soaked his shirt, your arms wound tight around his ribs, as you wished for nothing more than the power to change what was.

 “I don’t want to lose you…” you sobbed.

 “You won’t.” He replied.

 His words were meant to be comforting, but their effect was the opposite, making your heart ache even more at his inability to address the issue head on. He always was an optimist when it came to things of the heart.  It was part of what made him such a great hero.  But optimism wouldn’t save either of you here.

 You pulled away from him slightly, already missing the closeness of him.

 “Don’t…” you pleaded.  “Don’t do that.”

 Yagi looked down at your tear-stained face.  “Do what?”

 Quietly, you grabbed a tissue from the tissue box on your nightstand and wiped at your nose.  The material crumpled into a ball within your fist and you stared at it, your vision already blurring with fresh tears.

 “Don’t try to give me hope.” You replied.

 Yagi stared with wide eyes before withdrawing his arms. His expression fell, wounded by the truth in your honesty.  

 You struggled not to let it sway you.

 “I… I can’t keep doing this.” You whispered as you wiped the last of the tears from your cheeks. “Every time you show up on my doorstep, you’re worse than before. I won’t always be able to help you.”

 He watched you in silence for a moment before looking away in shame, his fingers interlaced in front of him as he leaned forward.  “I know.” He replied.

 Regret filled you at rejecting him.  You wanted him to touch you, to hold you. To have his presence surround you. To feel him alive beneath you, whole and here.  But you had to set a boundary.  You had to stop following him, stop hoping… if you didn’t, it would destroy you.

 Instead, you sat with your arms wrapped around yourself, a pitiful defense against the familiar allure of the man next to you.

 “You keep wanting me to save you, Yagi… but how can I save you if you won’t save yourself?”  You looked at him then, your eyes locking with his.  “You keep choosing to fight, to push yourself well past your limits. And you keep coming here, because you know that I still love you and won’t turn you away.”

 Yagi sucked air into his lungs, his posture going stiff at your words. You were right.  He knew you were right.  His inability to counter your statement was evidence enough of that.  Disappointment and guilt filled you as you broke eye contact to look at your shaking hands.

 “But… I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself. And you shouldn’t expect me to.” You whispered.

 The words were heavy, filling the empty space between you with their finality. You refused to look at Yagi; you knew he’d be hurt.  You knew his shoulders would slump in defeat, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.  Guilt filled you, making your hands fidget and your shoulders tense as you waited for his response.

 “You’re right.”

 His words were a whisper and your eyes snapped up to stare at him, bewilderment on your face.  He’d never said those words to you before... not about this.  His mask had cracked, and you could finally see his emotions flashing across his face as he struggled to transform them into words.  Remorse. Panic. Love. Fear.

 He cleared his throat and repeated himself.  “You’re right.  I have asked a lot of you.” His brow furrowed.  “I don’t know why I keep coming back.  I guess I just get… homesick.”

 Your breath hitched in your throat as your heart pounded like a battle drum in your chest.  You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were stolen from you when Yagi’s eyes met yours, deep and familiar.

 “I miss you.” He stated.

 “Yagi...” You cupped his cheek in your hand.  He leaned into it briefly, before removing your hand from his face and holding it within his own.

 “Listen... I... didn’t intend to come here for your help.  Not this time.  But you know how these things are...” He explained.  “I was on my way over when a villain showed up, and...” Yagi’s words faltered as he saw the expression on your face begin to fall.  He was doing it again, getting caught up in his work, making excuses... hurting you.

 He cleared his throat. “It’s... not important.  The point is, is that there was something I wanted to tell you.  But... I’m not sure it’ll make much of a difference.” He averted his gaze, his brows pulled together pensively.

 Your own brow furrowed in response, confused by his ambiguity.  A part of you was hesitant... you’d truly felt that you were done, that you’d reached your limit.  But could tell that whatever it was, it was important to him, and it was something that he wanted to share specially with you.

 “Just... tell me.” You said quietly, as you emotionally braced yourself.

 His blue eyes looked back at you, and he took a steady breath.  “Alright...”  He took your other hand in his own.  Now he held both of your hands between you as he sat with you on your bed.  “I... found a successor.”

 Your eyes widened, as you felt overcome with dizziness.  You were lightheaded, suddenly floating on his words that still lingered in the air like morning mist.

 “W... what??” you choked out.  Your heart pounded wildly as your hands gripped his, the warm, firm touch barely grounding you.

 “I found a successor.” He repeated, a slow smile starting to spread across his lips at your dumbfounded reaction.

 A smile began to spread across your lips.  “Does that mean... you’re retiring?”

 “Yeah-”

 Your lips were on his before he could say anything more, your arms flinging themselves around his neck.  He laughed against your lips as he returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his lap.

 You pulled away for a moment and stared into his eyes. They sparkled with mirth, blue as a summer’s day.

 “Well, that went better than I expected...” Yagi teased.

 “Tell me it’s true.  You’re really done?” you asked.

 “Well, I still have to train my apprentice... he’s got a big heart and a strength in him that I don’t think he even realizes he has yet.  But it’s going to take some time for him to learn how to wield all that power.”  Yagi’s expression turned from happy to serious.  “And... I have to admit that I can’t retire just yet.”

 You opened your mouth to protest, but he covered your lips with his finger.

 “Hang on a second, firecracker.” He grinned.  “I will retire. But I still have remnants of One For All in me, and I need to protect this kid until he’s able to master that power.  I’ll still be All Might until that last spark leaves me. I’m sure you understand that much, right? I have a responsibility to him.”

 You brushed aside his long bangs, relishing in the feel of the golden locks between your fingers.  Of course, you understood.  You’d never expected it to be immediate anyway.  But at least things were in motion.  All he had to do was survive.  And if Yagi was good at anything, it was surviving.

 You had to believe in him.

 “Yeah...” you whispered.  “I understand.”

 Now it was Yagi’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”

 You smiled and kissed him again.  “Really.”

 You had hope.

[janetbrown711]

"you've always been strong for me. let me return the favor." Angelina 2 to William 🥺

To say William woke up feeling refreshed would be the most obvious lie of all time. 

His first thought in his painfully groggy head of his was of his location. From what he could sense, it wasn’t familiar. The beds felt cheap, nothing like the royal silk sheets he had gotten used to at the palace. 

His second thought was of Lena. He couldn’t feel her presence, which caused him to snap his eyes open and look for her. 

This third thought was remembering what had happened. 

Freeing Wakko. Hurting his arm. The attack. 

He tried sitting up but a wave of pain shot through his whole body and he was forced to sit back down. However, he looked across the room and saw her. 

Lena was in a bed across the room from him, and it hurt his neck to look at her, but he couldn’t look away. He had never seen her with so many bruises and bandages around her in his life. It broke his heart.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” The familiar voice of his childhood best friend, Helloise Nerz, spoke softly. “How are you feeling?”

How was he feeling? Almost every inch of his body ached and hurt, his wife somehow appearing worse than him, and he was miles and miles away from his children, who he already missed terribly. 

“Right... poor question,” She apologized. “How much do you remember?”

He thought a moment. 

“Last thing I remember is passing out on your doorstep,” He said. She nodded. 

“Good, because that was the last thing that happened,” She said. 

“So... what’s wrong with me, doc?” He joked a little. Helloise chuckled. 

“Nurse. Scratchy is the real doc, I’m just the assistant,” She remarked. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, Helloise. I’m sure you could run this place if you had to,” He said. She snorted. 

“You’ve got a terribly sprained arm that I noticed was already bandaged, but you’ve made much worse, I presume from carrying her highness. You also have a torn ligament in your right ankle, minor frostbite, and numerous pulled muscles throughout your legs,” she read off of a chart. 

“And Lena?” He asked. 

“Broken rib, a minor concussion from what we can tell, fractured fibula, severe bruising on the face, minor frostbite, and blood loss from a severe wound in the right shoulder we cleaned and stitched up.”

William looked at his wife again. 

“How long have we been asleep?” He asked. 

“Three days,” She said. William blinked. 

“Th-three days?” he asked.

She sighed. “William...” she sat on the edge of his bed. 

“The whole kingdom thinks you two are dead, and honestly, you two are lucky to be alive.”

“What? Why? How? What about Yakko Wakko and Dot? Are they alright?” He tried sitting up, but the wave of pain reminded him not to. 

“Well, her majesty the queen threw a funeral two days ago. They said attackers stormed the castle in the night and killed the two of you,” She explained. 

“But what about Yakko Wakko and Dot? Are they okay?” He asked. 

“I haven’t heard any news of the three of them, so they should be alright with the queen.”

“If you could consider being with the queen alright,” he muttered. 

“Right... She wasn’t the best mother, right?” She remembered. He shook his head, sighing. Just then, a low grumble came from across the room, and Lena began to stir. 

“What... where... Will..?” she mumbled as her eyes slowly opened and she took in her surroundings. William wanted nothing more than to rush to her side, but the numerous injuries Helloise had informed him about kept him where he was. Instead, the good nurse went over and started evaluating and explaining the situation to her. 

“D-dead..?” Her face went pale as a ghost. “That means... They’re with... we have to go. Now,” She looked at William, and started climbing out of her bed, nearly collapsing immediately if it hadn’t been for Helloise catching her. 

“Your highness, you can’t. You need to recover,” She said, laying her back down. 

“I can’t leave them with her- I can’t,” She shook her head.

“Lena...” He said softly. She looked at him for a moment, before lying back down and looking away, her expression mostly unreadable. Just then, the doctor came in. 

“Oh goodie, you two are awake,” He said, but he quickly read the room. 

“Er... how are you two feeling?” He asked. William shrugged, while Lena remained silently looking away. 

He then pulled the nurse back outside to talk for a moment, promising it wouldn’t be long. William nodded and let them go, and his eyes went to Lena. 

She wouldn’t look at him, even when he said her name. Something was deeply, deeply wrong. William wished he could read her mind, though he did have a few guesses. For one, the kids. 

William knew they were resourceful and clever, but he honestly had no idea what Angelina was going to do to them now that they were out of the picture- especially if she thought they were dead. 

It sent a shiver down his spine just thinking about it...

“So... your highnesses... what can you tell us about the attack?” The doctor reentered and asked. 

“Oh god... where to start?” he chuckled nervously. 

“If you aren’t ready, it’s totally fine,” Helloise sat on the edge of his bed. “We just... well... the people are curious. You are supposed to be dead after all.”

“Of course,” William said, before taking in a deep breath and beginning. 

.o0o. 

It had been a tense week. William had been mad at himself when he had sprained his arm. He was a knight, dammit, he was supposed to be trained to be better than that. Now it meant he had to postpone any of his own mini training lessons he was giving Wakko and Yakko until later, which he knew Yakko would be suspicious of. He always had a habit of picking up on their anxiety and carrying it with him like it was his responsibility too, which was upsetting for multiple reasons. 

Some of Angelina’s lessons were extremely difficult to try and undo. 

At least Wakko was trying to be optimistic about things. After he had broken him out of the tower, Wakko was spending a lot more time with them as a family, suddenly talking to them a lot more than he used to, which William took as a good sign, seeing as he desperately wanted something to look on the bright side about. 

Dot was happy too, of course, as she was just glad to have Wakko back too. She could hardly tell everyone else was anxious, she was only four after all. 

When the first window broke, William had been up in a flash, and despite his injury, he grabbed his sword anyway. 

“William? What’s the matter?” Lena had asked. 

“Go back to sleep, my love. I’ll handle this,” he kissed her head, leaving their bedroom. 

He walked through the halls, surprised at just how silent everything was. Still, he kept his guard up, not allowing himself to relax for even a second. 

“...this castle is huge! Even with the map she gave us,” a disgruntled, not-too-far off voice said. William ducked behind a curtain for cover. 

“It’s a quick mission though: grab the king, grab the queen, and grab the kid if there’s time to spare,” A lower voice shrugged, and William felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. Immediately, he burst out and attacked one of the men, and they quickly began a sword fight. 

Unfortunately, William found himself evenly matched by his opponent and realized he was surrounded by allies, some that were even taller than him.

He was kinda screwed. 

Still, he fought and parried and swung and blocked with a valiant effort, though the pain in his arm burned more and more and it was evident he was becoming weaker. His opponent saw this, and got behind, and he brought down the handle of his sword onto his arm, and William dropped his sword and fell onto the ground, growling in pain. 

“Remember, queenie said no blood on her carpets or tapestries,” The tallest reminded his attacker, who was now pointing his sword at his face. “Tie him up. With the strongest removed, we can work on getting that queen and the middle boy,” He ordered, before taking a few and leaving. 

Wakko. 

William growled, and swiped his feet out from under him, causing his attacker to fall to the ground. William then began fighting with his bare fists against the men who tried jumping on and fighting him next. 

However, the numbers were too large, and before William knew it, his wrists were tied and he was captured. 

“Alright, move it, princey,” one of the men kicked him. William gnashed his teeth, but they planned for that, as two of the men held him down, and a third quickly put a muzzle around him. 

“There, now that should get you to behave,” He grinned, pulling William up, and the three men forced him out of the castle, and into the back of a carriage, where he was locked in and left. 

He tried kicking the door open, but it must’ve been solid wood because he got nowhere, and all he ended up doing was exhausting himself. 

William was alone for quite an amount of time, and he tried everything he could to break free of his restraints but nothing was working. He cursed his stubbornness that caused him to sprain his arm- if it hadn’t been for that he was confident he would’ve been able to take down the six men. He was a knight for god’s sake- he was supposed to be able to protect his family. 

He was supposed to be able to protect his family. 

After a long moment of silence and stillness, the door opened and Lena was thrown in next to him, and William caught a glimpse of the outside and noticed it was snowing lightly. 

He didn’t dwell on that, his eyes falling onto Lena, who looked horrible. Tears were streaming down her face as she looked at him, slowly and painfully crawling her way over and lying against his chest. William did his best to hug her with his hands tied. 

Neither of them could say a word, but both knew exactly what the other was feeling, and they did their best to embrace and comfort each other. 

Then, the carriage began to move.

They didn’t capture Wakko.

Despite everything, William sighed a breath of relief.

Silently, the couple rode for hours, not knowing where they were being taken or why or who was behind any of this, though they had a few guesses.

William was just glad he still had her... even if it wouldn’t be for much longer.

He loved her with his entire being, nothing would ever change that, not an evil queen, and not even death.

However, his mind quickly went to his kids.

Wakko was alive- at least, he hoped. The attackers said they couldn’t get blood anywhere, hopefully, that meant they just ran out of time to find him and he was okay.  

But if they were killed, William had no idea what Angelina would do to them. They would have no protection from her now. They could be hurt, or worse...

William hugged Lena a little tighter.

After an hour or two of riding, the temperature inside the carriage got notably colder, the snow outside picking up.

William prayed for a miracle.

They continued riding on, William even drifting to sleep at one point, when they were suddenly jerked awake. there were shouts from out of where they were, and William and Lena sat up best they could, though Lena was in a lot more pain. Suddenly, the carriage lost control, and started to skid and slide, though William and Lena had no idea what the cause was- but it didn’t matter because not before long, it crashed into a tree and everyone was thrown into the air, and landed with a crash and crack. 

William winced at the sound, closing his eyes but when he opened, he saw it-

The doors were busted open. 

Quickly, William scooted out, gesturing for Lena to follow, but she was closing her eyes and cringing in pain, and William realized she had injured her leg in the fall. Knowing they didn’t have much time to run, he carefully got her out, having her arms go around him with the tie, and having her hold herself up best she could with her remaining upper body strength as they ran into the woods, as far away as they could manage, also while looking for something they could use to untie their hands- and also a hiding place for when the attackers began to search. 

Luckily, William was well trained in tracking so he did his best to make sure his footprints in the snow made zero sense and were misleading at best, praying they wouldn’t be able to follow, but he didn’t know who or what they were, so it was hard to be certain. 

Eventually, William and Lena made it to a cave and they hid in there for a while, With William finding a particularly sharp rock he used to untie his hands, remove his muzzle, then untie Lena, and remove her muzzle. 

“William,” she said with teary eyes. 

“Lena,’ he replied, becoming overwhelmed with the desire to hug her, but noting her injured state, he instead just pressed his forehead against hers, and she did the same, placing her soft hand against his face as she cried softly.

“We can’t stay here for long- a bear probably lives here,” she said. 

“Just for a moment, we need to rest- figure out where we are, and what our next move is,” He said. 

“We’re so far from home... how are we going to get out of this?” She asked. 

“I... I don’t know, Lena,” He admitted. “But we will, I promise.” 

They stayed hidden for quite some time, having only one close call when one of the tracker’s voices was close enough for them to hear, but William was ready with the sharp rock in case he got too close, but he never did, so they were alright. 

Well- alright, considering everything that just happened. 

Eventually, the sun started to rise in the woods, and it slowly dawned on William that the coast was clear, and they were free to go. 

But... free to go where? They had no idea where they were- were they even in Warnerstock? They could be in foreign lands for all they know- a place where they didn’t even speak the language and they could be killed for sneaking in and-

Wait. Lena was the Princess, and knew all the languages of the neighboring kingdoms, and would likely be given aid. William was panicking over nothing. 

However... Lena was looking rather weak. She lost a lot of blood, and her injuries were only pilling up. 

“Where do we go?” Lena asked as he was looking at her.

“Well... I don’t think we can go home... as something tells me your mother was behind this...” He stroked his chin. 

“You’re telling me,” she huffed, before wincing in pain. 

William snapped. “I know a place where they can’t refuse us,” he grinned. 

Lena blinked. “William... Acme falls is in the middle of nowhere and perhaps one of the first places they’d go looking for us if we were missing,” she frowned. 

“Well- not unless your mother wants us to be dead. Then she wouldn’t have to or want to look anywhere,” he said. “It’d be just like it was when we had just gotten married.”

“When we just married...” Lena trailed off into the memory, a look of sad nostalgia written on her face. 

“Look... I’m going to go and try to figure out where we are, so we can head to Acme. Will you be okay if you stay here?” he asked. 

“I don’t think I have a choice,” she tried to joke, but William knew she hated it. He kissed her forehead. 

“I love you,” He said. “I won’t be long.”

“I love you too, Wiliam,” she replied, and William ran out of the cave. 

It took about an hour, but eventually, William discovered that yes, they were still in Warnerstock, and found the direction they were to go to if they wanted to go to Acme Falls. It would be quite the trek, especially if this snow continued to fall, but he had determination on his side. 

He was not going to die here, nor was he going to let Lena. He would carry her in his arms if he had to, simple as that. 

.o0o.

“So... yeah. We hiked for hours to reach here, the strains and pulled muscles and frostbite are from trekking through the snow, and that’s how we got here,” William finished his tale. 

“Oh William... that’s terrible,” Helloise looked at him sadly. 

“That does explain a lot... you two should really be getting rest now, yah?” Scratchnsniff remarked, reading over their charts one more time. 

“Rest, yeah...” he nodded slowly, though sleep was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to go back to the palace asap, and kill Angelina, and get his kids back. He was confident Lena felt the same.

Though...  they wouldn’t be able to do much good in this state... especially without a plan. 

“We’ll leave the two of you alone... you’ve been through a lot,” Helloise said.

“Thanks,” he gave a weak smile, which she returned. 

His eyes then went to his wife, who still wasn’t looking at him, staring intently at the ground and wall. 

“Lena, my love, what’s the matter?” He asked. Lena snorted. 

“That’s your first question?” She snarked. 

Okay, that was on him. That was a pretty dumb question. 

“What are you thinking about?” he tried again. Lena crossed her arms.

“It isn’t fair...” she said. William sighed. 

“I know it’s not fair that-”

“I’m not talking about my mother o-or the attack- I-i’m talking about you,” she snapped. William paused. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. Lena sighed, wincing at the pain. 

“Damned broken ribs...” she muttered. 

“I meant... It’s not fair. Time after time after time I end up hurt or crying or abused- it isn’t fair. You’re always so strong William, it pains me. When is it my turn to be strong for you?” she said, wiping away tears and trying her best not to cry. 

“Lena...” William reached out to her as much as he could, his arm nearly touching her pillow. Lena continued to look away. 

“I’m serious. No matter what happens, you’re always so strong and so brave and comforting. I just- I feel so inadequate,” she whispered. 

“Lena, you aren’t inadequate,” He said softly. “You’re just...”

“Damaged?” she said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t pretend it isn’t true- I know what my mother has done.”

“Lena, I don’t care. I love you,” He said. 

“And I love you- but... I just... you’ve always been so strong for me William. I want to return the favor, just once...” She looked at him. 

“Lena, we’ve both lost so much... this shouldn’t be something we measure or keep track of,” He said, and Lena placed her head where his hand is on her pillow. 

“I miss them, William,” she whispered. 

“I miss them too, my love,” he whispered back. Lena kissed his hand. 

“We’ll get them back, Lena. I promise,” he said. Lena nodded, kissing his hand again and closing her eyes.

“I promise too. No matter what it takes, we are going to get our babies back.” 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

[sebthesnipe]

Together (My First Anxceit Fic)

Anxceit Fluff was requested... I attempted and failed. Well, kinda. It's a bit fluffy...

They really didn't want to cooperate.

Ship: Anxiety

For Mage_Ofthe_East on AO3 who is vastly supportive of my writing <3 I did my best. I'm sorry if its not as fluffy as it should be. <3 I think you'll still like it though.

Master List

AO3

TW: Alternate Ending has Major Character Death, Old Age, Children

“No! I don’t wanna go!” Virgil cried, pulling hard on his father’s hand, desperate to get away.

“Virgil! That is enough!” his father grumbled in frustration as he dragged him along towards the school’s double doors. “You have to go to school. All big boys do.”

“I don’t want to be a big-“

“What happened to your eye?” a small voice asked, cutting Virgil off and pulling his attention to the young boy waiting at the top of the steps.

Virgil sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve as his father pulled to a stop in front of the open doors.

A tall man in a dark blue polo and tie stood holding open the door and eyeing Virgil and his father evenly. Next to him stood the boy, only a few inches taller than Virgil, and certainly not that much older.

The side of the boy’s face was discolored with something that looked like an ‘angel kiss’, at least that was what Virgil’s father called it.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Virgil asked in return, the tears that had been running down his cheeks starting to dry up at the question.

“Virgil!” his father gasped.

“It’s quite alright,” the blue polo man reassured before turning back to the boy next to him. “Janus, why don’t you answer him? You did ask him a question first. It is only fair.”

The discolored boy eyed Virgil with a look far too similar to the blue polo man’s.

“It’s called Vitiligo,” he stated in a pompous tone. “It is a skin condition that causes its host to lose pig-eh-men-tation on certain parts of their bodies.”

“Very good,” the blue polo man praised.

“Thank you, Papa!” Janus chirped with a grin, glancing up at the man in question before sticking his tongue out at Virgil.

Virgil rolled his mismatched eyes. “Yeah, well, mine is… is… Heta… Heta-cha-o-nia-“

“Heterochromia, kiddo,” Virgil’s father offered affectionately.

“YEAH! That thing!” Virgil nodded.

“Pft,” Janus scoffed. “Whatever, I’m going to go play in the art room,” he informed his papa, striding into the school with his nose upturned.

Virgil stared after him. Virgil really liked art… And he supposed the other kid was interesting.

“You’re more than welcome to join him, Virgil,” Janus’ papa informed him.

Virgil looked up at his own father for reassurance, earning a slight nod before Virgil rushed after him.

“Wait for me!!!”

……………………………………………………………….

“What a nerd!” Janus' deep voice scoffed as he peered out the window.

Virgil glanced up from the magazine he had been flipping through, not that he was actually paying attention to it. His blue and green gaze landed on the two possible culprits of Janus’ current insult.

“Which one?” Virgil asked, with very little interest as he took in the Prince brothers.

Roman’s broad shoulders filled out his letterman jacket quite well, while Remus’ seemed a few sizes too big as he hung from a branch above his brother’s head. They seemed to be arguing about something.

“Does it matter?” Janus asked lazily, giving a shrug, his own letterman lifting and falling with the motion.

“Just curious as to whose heart you’re breaking next,” Virgil teased playfully.

“Shut it,” Janus laughed, shoving his friend out of his chair. “You’re just jealous! It’s not my fault no one wants to date a racoon!”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings,” Virgil teased back, rubbing his newly bruised. “I’m serious though, I rather not have to avoid them both for the rest of our lives. They live next door to me you know?”

“The rest of our lives?” Janus asked with an arched brow.

“Well, yeah,” Virgil shrugged, climbing back into his seat. “Let’s face it, we’ve been friends this long… You’re kind of stuck with me for good now.” He tried not to flush as he spoke the sentimental words.

Janus stared at him for a long moment, making Virgil shift uncomfortably.

“Gross,” he hissed, though his Vitiligo stretched as he smiled affectionately.

“Your face!” Virgil retorted with a laugh.

“Yeah, well, your mom!” Janus spat back.

…………………………………………………

“You don’t get a say in it!” Janus spat at him angrily, throwing another perfectly folded shirt into his suitcase.

“I think I should!” Virgil snapped back. “I’m only your best friend !”

“You were my best friend!” Janus growled, moving to back another article of clothing.

“Don’t give me that crap, Janus! You’re just mad because you don’t want to hear reason!” Virgil argued, ignoring the sting of his words.

“Reason?! Ha!” Janus laughed mirthlessly. “The only reason I’m hearing from you is jealousy!”

“Me?! Jealous?! Of what?!”

Janus tossed in one more pair of slacks before slamming the case close and rounding on his friend.

“Would you like the list alphabetically or chronologically?” Janus offered sarcastically.

“Chronologically,” Virgil replied, calling him out.

Janus hesitated before giving a grimace. “How about that I’ve always been smarter than you! It’s not my fault you didn’t get accepted into a good college-“

“I didn’t apply!” Virgil argued, not willing to admit that he had been waiting to find out which college Janus was getting accepted to before following him.

“Or how about the fact that all your relationships end in disaster?” Janus added, turning to zip the case.

“I broke up with them!” Virgil reminded, ignoring the way his heart was pounding painfully.

“How about the fact that I am not content to stay in this tiny ass town, following tiny ass dead-end jobs and spend all my time wasting away with you !”

Silence fell between them.

Virgil’s gaze widened at that, chest feeling as if it had just been cracked open.

“I… See,” he mumbled, feeling his ribs heaving.

“Listen,” Janus sighed, realizing what he had said, his expression softening. “Remus is a good guy. We’ve been together a long time. I mean… he’s the reason I stayed as long as I have but… With Roman gone he’s willing to move and… I can’t miss this opportunity Virg… I’m sorry.” With that, Janus pulled his suitcase off the bed and headed for the door without a backwards glance, leaving Virgil to sink slowly to the floor, tears staining his cheeks as he watched his friend’s silhouette disappear around the corner.

………………………

“I know, right?” Virgil laughed, taking another long sip of his drink as he glanced over at his date.

It was a clear crisp night. Perfect for their walk back to his place. How long had they been dating now? Two months? Three?

“I thought he was going to choke! If you saw his face-“ Virgil’s voice cut off.

The silhouette of a man, dimly lit by the porch light, standing on Virgil’s doorstep caught his attention.

“Who is that?” his date’s voice echoed in his ear.

Virgil didn’t register the words.

His cup slid from his hand, hitting pavement and splattering his jeans.

“Virgil?” his date asked, still not receiving an answer.

Virgil paid them no mind, body seeming to turn on autopilot as he strode up the walkway, eyes glued to the outline of the man as if worried he might be a figment of his imagination.

It wouldn’t be the first time…

Virgil needed to know he was real…

Needed to know he was actually there...

“Hey-” Janus whispered, voice dripping with sadness, cut off as the breath was knocked out of him.

Virgil’s arms wrapped around Janus’ slender form, squeezing him so tight Janus felt as if he would break.

A moment later, Virgil pulled back, his multicolored gaze taking in the streaks that split the dirty smudges on his old friend’s cheeks, and the way his pleading eyes met his.

He had been crying? Janus? That certainly wasn’t the prideful image-driven man, Virgil remembered.

Years had passed since their falling out, neither willing to reach out to the other. Virgil had, of course, checked in other man from time to time through social media and family, but he was sure Janus had never known that.

“I assume this is a bad time?” Janus asked, peering past Virgil towards his date.

Virgil paid it no mind.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Janus tensed at the question, studying Virgil’s expression in turn before tears began to well up again.

Virgil didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the taller man once more, pulling him close as Janus’ fingers curled into his hoodie, sobs raking his body.

…………………………………………………..

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Virgil asked, watching Janus examine himself in the mirror.

“It’s just one date, Virg,” Janus reminded with a smirk.

“Your first date,” Virgil countered. “First since-“

“It’s just one date, Virgil,” Janus insisted, cutting him off. “Now, how do I look?”

He turned to face the shorter man, straightening his tie as he did so.

“Like someone vomited yellow on your funeral suit,” Virgil grumbled, grimacing as he sat cross legged on the bed.

“Perfect,” Janus grinned in return. “I’ll be perfectly dressed for when I knock him dead.”

“Just don’t expect me to give the eulogy,” Virgil groaned.

“Like I’d trust you with anything more than handing out pamphlets,” Janus chuckled, picking up a pillow from the floor and tossing it at him.

“For the record, at your funeral, I’m bringing cake and icecream!” Virgil called after him as Janus headed for the door. “Throwing a block party!”

“Oh please! You need friends for that!” Janus called over his shoulder.

…………………………………………

Janus was exhausted.

A double shift with no lunch break. He was fairly certain that was illegal…

He stumbled into the house, tossing the keys onto the side table before calling out for his roommate.

“Virgil? I hope you left me some-“ He paused at the sight of the small to-go container sitting on the bar with his name scrawled on it in thick black messy lettering.

A smile played on his lips as he took the box and headed for the living room. Crappy food and some dull documentary sounded like the perfect end to such a long day.

He paused, Virgil’s snores drifting to him from the study.

Shifting directions, Janus peered into the room, catching sight of the cheap ‘Happy Birthday’ decorations strung across the bookcases and the small cake (which Virgil had obviously already began to enjoy) sitting on the table that read ‘Ha- Bir- Janus!’ in bright yellow, the words cut off by the large chunk missing from the sweet.

His eyes fell on Virgil’s sleeping form draped across the large arm chair, party hat covering one eye as he mouth hung open, crumb covered plate still resting atop his chest as it rose and fell.

Janus’ heart clenched and realization struck him as the walls seemed to shake with the sheer volume of Virgil’s breathing.

He was in love with Virgil Sanders!

…………………………………………………………………………….

“That’s not funny, Janus!” Virgil snapped, glaring at his friend.

“You’re right, it’s not,” Janus agreed simply.

“You’re fucking insane!” Virgil accused.

“I completely agree,” he nodded.

“Stop being so agreeable, damn it!” Virgil snapped.

“Only when you state something I can disagree with,” Janus countered.

“What will your dad say?!” Virgil asked.

“Papa will probably agree with me,” Janus offered calmly.

“But I never said that I-“ Virgil cut himself off, flabbergasted by the entire situation, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“You never had to Virgil,” Janus offered, sitting with his legs crossed in front of him as he watched his room mate frantically pace across the room. “I’ve always known.”

Virgil pinned him with a testy glare, his frustration only intensifying at the knowing smirk Janus offered.

“Then you are the one that’s lost their mind!” Virgil accused.

“Or found it, depending on your perspective,” Janus offered.

“No! Absolutely not!” Virgil answered, shaking his head.

“Why?” Janus asked simply.

“Well… Well… Because…” Virgil stammered.

“Because it wasn’t your idea?” Janus asked.

“What?! No! It was my idea!” Virgil paused as he realized what he had said and backtracked. “Well, originally… before… you know…”

“Good, then we’re in agreement.” Janus gave a curt nod, standing and straightening his coat.

“What?! But I never-“

“You did say it was your idea to get married originally,” Janus pointed out, “and I am agreeing with you now. Therefore it is set. October is a nice month to have a wedding, don’t you think?” he asked, already heading out of the room.

Virgil sank into the chair Janus had just vacated, utterly and completely confused… and yet happy beyond belief.

……………………………………………

“Are you sure?” Virgil whispered softly, peering over his husband’s shoulder.

“More than I have ever been in my life,” Janus nodded, bouncing the small child currently wrapped snugly in his arms.

Virgil didn’t need telling twice. “Alright then,” he nodded, turning to the desk next to them and signing his name.

“Logan Patton Dee, Fathers: Janus Alexander Dee and Virgil Edward Dee,” he whispered softly.

He slid the paper across the polished wood with a grin.

“It’s official,” the woman nodded with a kind smile, stamping the paper and moving to make copies. “Congratulations, to the three of you. There will be monthly check ins but I am certain everything will be as it should be.”

“Just as it should be,” Janus agreed with a nod, still peering dreamily down at their son’s face.

……………………………………………………

“I'm a serious Dad! You should have seen her!” Logan laughed, waving his hands in the air. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen!”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile at that, gray hair falling loosely into his face.

“You think Papa will like her?” Logan asked, finally glancing up at his father, brows furrowing in worry.

“She sounds like a very smart girl,” Virgil offered.

“Oh, she’s a genius Dad! Way smarter than me! Fiery too!” He went on. “She makes me the happiest man in the world.”

“Then I think he’ll adore her,” he reassured. “Is that right, love?” he asked, glancing over Logan’s shoulder at Janus as the man approached, his own salt and pepper locks groomed neatly down.

Logan started, turning quickly in his seat to stare up in surprise at the man in question.

“Hmph,” Janus huffed, with an upturn of his nose. “We’ll see.”

……………………………….

“Grandpa!” Valerie cried, climbing onto Virgil’s lap, his wheelchair rocking slightly with the force.

“Oof! Easy Val, if your Pawpaw sees you in my lap, he’ll have my head,” Virgil teased, tickling the little girls' sides playfully.

“That I will!” Janus teased, appearing at Virgil’s side and resting a hand on his shoulder. He looked happy to see the young girl, despite his threat.

“Pawpaw! Will you come watch me and Leo swim?” she asked excitedly, peering up pleadingly at Janus and causing his features to soften even more.

“In a bit, dear. I need to take Grandpa here back upstairs for a nap.”

“Who are you calling grandpa, old man?” Virgil growled at his husband playfully, helping Valerie climb off his lap. She gave him a big hug before hurrying off to play with her brother.

“You, grandpa,” Janus teased with a chuckle, “Come on, I’ll even lay down with you if you promise no to snore so loudly.”

“Ha!” Virgil barked. “Good luck with that. A forty year steak isn’t going to stop now!”

The End (of the fluff anyways)...

[[[This is the end of the fluff.

Continue at your own risk. Alternate NON-FLUFF ending in next chapter.

YOU WILL CRY!

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]]]

Alternate Ending:

Janus brushed away the loose grass and dirt the marred the headstone, clearing the words

‘Virgil Edward Dee Loving husband, father, and grandfather’ etched in marble.

The dark stone of the plot next to him lay empty, waiting for Janus to join him in his eternal slumber, but the man paid it no mind as he emptied the vase of dead flowers and replaced them with the new ones he had brought.

“There,” Janus hummed proudly. “Much better. You always were a slob, you know,” he teased. “Though I suppose it comes with being part racoon.”

He laughed, the sound falling a bit flat as tears welled in his eyes.

“I miss you,” he whispered, voice cracking. “The kids do too. Logan promises he’ll visit but you know how those things go…”

…………………………………

“I miss you,” Logan mumbled, pulling out the dead flowers from the vase and replacing them with fresh ones. “Both of you…”

He peered down at the double plot.

‘Virgil Edward Dee Loving husband, father, and grandfather’

‘Janus Alexander Dee Loving husband, father, and grandfather’.

“The kids do too. Though, they’re still a bit young to really understand. You know how those things go…”

[imaginejamesandsirius]

fic where sirius runs away from his house after walburga and orion go way too far, so he rocks up at james’ with a butload of injuries but it’s ok because they’re all soft and there’s love confessions and fluff 🤒

((A/N: Mentions of child abuse but nothing graphic))

The Potter parents had long ago extended an open invitation to Sirius: any time, night or day, Sirius was allowed to walk right in. He didn't have to call first, and he didn't have to knock. "Any time at all, dear," Mrs. Potter had said with a kind, too-perceptive smile. "You can have a reason-- or not. It doesn't matter." She knew what went on at the Black household behind closed doors. If she didn't know for sure, she at least had a good idea. 

Sirius had wanted to pretend like he didn't need their help, but he'd found himself sneaking out of Grimmauld Place more than once over the years. 

This time was worse than the rest. He walked in, shaking. After he closed the door, he didn't know what to do. He leaned against the wall next to it and slowly slid down until he was sitting. He tugged ineffectually at the knots on his boots. The laces were wet, and his hands were cold from the rain. And he was still shaking. The familiar smell of their home made him feel safe, and the adrenaline was leaving him at a rapid pace. He managed to get his shoes off, and a few tugs later found his soaked socks resting on their good hardwood. 

He was too tired to get to his feet, and he didn't think his legs would hold him right now, anyways. He brought his knees up to his chest and leaned heavily against the wall as his eyes fluttered shut. The sound of rain outside the front door soothed some of his nerves; he liked storms. If he were here under other circumstances, he'd turn into Padfoot and go play in the yard. As it stood, he stayed where he was and avoided taking any breaths that were too deep since doing so would make his ribs hurt with a sharp pain. 

He sat in the entryway on the floor for long enough that an ache had settled into the parts of him that he was putting weight on. Gingerly, he got to his feet. He shrugged out of his jacket and let it fall on the floor, then he ambled towards the living room. Their couch was bloody comfortable, Sirius knew from previous use. It would be easy to fall asleep there. He wanted to go upstairs and crawl into bed with James because James always made him feel better, but he didn't have faith in his ability to make it up all of the stairs on his own. 

There was a blanket over the back of the couch-- one that Mr. Potter had made while recovering from a potion's accident-- and Sirius pulled it into his hands before he sat down. 

He fell into a fitful sleep, and it was only a couple hours later when he woke up to James saying, "Sirius?" 

"Hey," he said, peeking an eye open to look at his best mate. 

"Why didn't you come up? You know I wouldn't have minded." 

"Too tired," Sirius said. 

"You want some help getting there?" James offered. 

"Sure." When he got to his feet, he didn't put the blanket down. He was groggy enough that he didn't consciously think about it, but he would've resisted if James tried to get him to leave it here. 

*

The next morning, Sirius was aware of more aches and pains than he had been when he came in. Naively, he'd thought that that meant he wasn't as badly hurt as he'd thought whenever he left. 

All the deep bruises and bleeding cuts in the world didn't hurt as bad as what Mr. Potter found on the doorstep, though: a bag of Sirius's things. Sirius hadn't been the one to pack it, and he sure as hell hadn't let it trail behind him all night long as he'd made his way here. There wasn't a letter attached to it; there didn't need to be. 

Sirius had hated living in Grimmauld Place. He'd hated his parents and every moment he'd spent around them was a moment he desperately wished he could be somewhere else. So why the hell did it hurt so bad to be kicked out? After all, he'd been the one to leave last night, like he always did. His parents were the ones to send the message that he shouldn't come back, and it hit a lot harder than Sirius would've liked. 

Swiftly on the news of telling Sirius that his belongings had been left on their door, Mr. Potter assured him that he could stay with them. "Until we die, and probably after that too," Mr. Potter had said with a brief, joking smile. None of them knew how to comfort Sirius about this. Sirius didn't know if he even wanted to be comforted. 

As always, James was there. 

In a move that surprised Sirius, James managed to make him feel better. James was usually good about that sort of thing-- he was practically an expert in cheering Sirius up after so many years of friendship-- but Sirius had rather thought that he was going to be in a poor mood for at least a week before he started to even out. 

"I've got good news," James declared. 

If Sirius were in a usual temperament, he would've made a joke about how James's existence was always good news, but what made today extra special? He wasn't in a joking sort of mood though, so he said, "What?" 

"I love you." 

"That's hardly news." 

"Is it news if I say I fancy you?" 

"Do you?" Sirius asked. 

"Course I do. And I know that you're not in the sort of mood to be dealing with any of it, but I wanted to let you know that just because your parents are pants at loving you doesn't make it impossible. And you may not want to hear it, but I'm happy you're away from them. I know they're your parents and family means a lot to the Black family, but you don't need them. You need... us. You and me, and Mum and Dad, and Moony and Wormtail. Your bloody parents and cousins can rot. Except for Andromeda," James added thoughtfully. "She's nice." 

Sirius blinked at him. "I feel like you're trying to distract me from your rather unspectacular love confession. I deserve fireworks, Prongs." He spread his hands to show the absence. "I don't see any fireworks." 

"There are fireworks in my heart," James tried, pairing it with a beaming smile. 

It was like a dam broke in Sirius. Since getting the news that he'd been kicked out, he'd been sad at first, and then fallen into something like numb depression. He'd been sad, but he'd also felt like he couldn't feel anything. It was a stupid joke. Barely a joke and more of an attempt to shift the focus from how un-monumental of love confession it had been. In the past, when Sirius had dreamt about James telling him that he fancied him, it had been far nicer. Usually, they were sitting on the same bed reading books they'd sneaked out of the Forbidden Section and joking around, and then James would look at him and Sirius would know what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. Other times they were in Hogsmeade at Zonko's or Three Broomsticks while Wormtail and Moony were doing something else, and James would put an arm around him and kiss him like there was almost nothing different. Sometimes there were flowers. A lot of times, when Sirius was laying in bed at night and dreaming of the world-stopping romance he wanted his life to be, James would have this big long speech about how long he'd loved Sirius and how it was all he'd been able to think about so he had to tell him because he couldn't hold it in any longer. 

The point is, he'd always imagined it to be happy. Maybe it was a regular day, or maybe it was a day when Sirius was particularly happy, but it had always been a scenario where things were already going well. He'd never imagined that it would happen like this, with him feeling like so much rubbish and James announcing it as easily as if he were sharing news that they had gotten restocked on dungbombs. 

And he'd certainly never imagined that he would break into hysterical laughter that quickly turned into full on sobbing. In this moment, all he should want was to focus on James and what he'd just admitted, but it finally hit him that he was never going home again. That he had no one to call his parents, no back-up for when he got in trouble-- which he inevitably would. 

He pitched himself into James's arms and clung to him as he cried it out. It was... cathartic, he supposed. He actually felt better by the time he stopped. 

James was rubbing his back, he noticed. A warm comfort that reminded him of getting his head pat when he was Padfoot. "Are you okay?" James asked quietly. 

"Better than before," Sirius said. He wiped at his face with his hands but didn't stop leaning on James. "I can't believe you waited until my parents disowned me to tell me that." 

"I didn't mean to make you feel worse," he muttered. 

Sirius shook his head. "You didn't." Normally, he would've taken the opportunity to pull James into a kiss, but his face was kind of disgusting right now and that's not how he wanted their first kiss to be. "I erm, I mean, I fancy you too. You didn't make me feel worse. I just wasn't expecting it." 

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Can You Imagine? IX

A/N: Answers! There are answers here, finally! There is also a tw for graphic descriptions of violence here. I hope you don't all hate me for what the answers are, but I also hope things do make much more sense. The explanation in this is still a little vague, but fear not- you will have a very clear cut explanation shortly. So, until then, skål!

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

--

The Unimaginable

King Harald had no warning. He had no time to prepare, hadn’t even heard that he had lost in Kattegat. This was all because Freydis and Lagertha had chosen to launch an attack on Vestfold before word could reach him of his defeat. When no news had come, Harald had begun to suspect something, but the armies of Kattegat had been on him before he could do anything about it.

Thus, he found himself on his knees, restrained by red smoke, looking up into the eyes of a woman he’d never believed could do harm. But her clear blue eyes now glowed red, and not one muscle in his body would move without her approval. Though, his eyes could follow her as she spoke to Lagertha, who he had never imagined would work with the wife of Ivar the Boneless, and with Björn, and Ubbe, and Torvi.

They were allies against him. The thought might once have stung, or perhaps he should have been concerned that it didn’t sting, but instead, he found he wasn’t all that surprised. They all loved Kattegat, and not one of them wanted him to rule it. Regardless of which brother was King, regardless of what woman was Queen, they wanted the throne to remain in the line of Ragnar Lothbrok. At least, Harald thought, he could take comfort in the infighting which would come now Kattegat had been defended.

Eventually, Freydis seemed to finish discussing whatever it was with Ragnar’s family, and she turned to walk toward him. His eyes followed her across the room as she approached, the only part of his body he could move. Even so, he could tell it was only happening because she was allowing it.

The witch crouched down in front of him, her eyes narrowed as she watched him. Red smoke danced at her fingertips, reflecting the red glow of her eyes. He was fairly certain no Völva appeared this way, but truthfully, he could explain her power in no other way. At the very least, she was unnerving.

A small smirk stretched across her lips, and he wondered very briefly if she could feel his fear. He wouldn’t put it past her. “You know what I want,” she told him, and though he had been about to question her, he realized he did know.

“You want me to tell you how to find your husband and your son,” he said, and chuckled. “They are dead. I had them killed, in case I lost against your Kingdom. Clearly, I made the right decision.”

Her eyes narrowed. Not one word of his answer was false, and he had even seen both done. For a few moments, he had debated keeping Baldur for his own heir, but he needed his own blood to inherit what he would leave behind. Not the son of Ivar the Boneless.

“They are alive,” she said after a few moments of silence. “Try again. You know what I want.”

Harald couldn’t help the chuckle that left him. “You want me to tell you how to find your husband and your son,” he surmised. “They live, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said flatly. “I have everything under control. Why should I be afraid?”

“You think we do not feel your fear?” he questioned, tilting his head. “We feel it in our chests, it pounds in our heads, echoes in our minds. Your fear, and your pain, Queen Freydis. You are in control. But what good does it do if you fear so much, and feel so much pain? You control everything, everything but the truth.”

Something in her eyes snapped, and she lifted a hand. Harald gave a strangled gasp as he felt a sharp, horrible pain in his neck. The pain was so bad, he tried to swallow. But, he did so only to discover he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe, either, and the answer to why was sitting right in front of him, the red glow in her eyes more intense. Her hand was lifted, red smoke dancing from her fingers and wrapping around his throat.

“Another word, and I will rip out your throat,” she hissed. “You do not understand my pain. Do not pretend you can. Where are my husband and my son?”

Harald panted when he was finally released, and he gave her the answer. How could he deny her? In the end, she nodded, leaving him to watch as she walked away. There was still a red mist gathered at her fingers, though it seemed far more thinned out than it had just a moment ago. Perhaps that was how it looked when she called her magic back to her.

As he watched her return to Lagertha and the other Vikings, he realized something in his body felt… wrong. It felt as though his bones were crumbling in his body, his blood leaking out into his body. Harald’s heart was pounding as he felt this, felt himself… deteriorating on the inside, and he looked up at Freydis again.

“Witch!” he called. “What are you doing to me?”

Freydis turned back to him with a hardened look in her eye, not even bothering to smirk at him. “I am making you more familiar with pain and fear,” she said. “They will be the last things you know.”

Harald began to hyperventilate, until he felt his lungs turn to dust, and he could no longer breathe. Finally, Freydis smirked, and she lifted her hand. “You will also know how it felt when you stole my son from his bed, and kept my husband captive here,” she told him, and flexed her fingers just slightly. A feeling of dread settled in his core. “It felt like this.”

Without warning, something broke out of his chest, and he watched in horror as he felt no beating behind his ribs, even at the sight of his heart held in the Queen’s hand. His pain didn’t even last another half minute, before his body began to disintegrate just there, until King Harald Finehair turned to dust, and his heart became liquid which slipped between her fingers.

Freydis gave a shake of her hand, and the blood splattered across the ground, ridding her of the excess. “I want to find my husband and my son,” she told her new allies.

“We follow you, Queen Freydis,” Lagertha replied, and gave a respectful bow. Freydis nodded curtly, and began the walk to where Harald kept his prisoners.

The door creaked as it opened, and glowing blue eyes met glowing red. But the red of the Queen’s eyes faded the longer she looked into those of the King’s, and the magic at her fingertips finally died off, retreating into her body until she might have further use of it.

Tension filled the air as they stared, until Freydis finally crossed the room to him, and to the child he held in his arms, curled up and shaking against his body. Their son.

“Baldur,” she said softly, and her hand brushed through his hair. His eyes opened slowly as he looked up at her, and she smiled adoringly at him. “Baldur, my son, you are safe now.”

She waved her hand and the chains holding her husband and son down all fell open, dropping off them and setting them free. “We should go home, now. Kattegat is waiting for us.”

Freydis took Baldur into her arms and stood, cradling her son once more and kissing the top of his head. She would never take that for granted again, not having had to fight so hard for her family.

As they left the prison, they came to Lagertha, Torvi, Björn, and Ubbe, all standing and waiting on the family to emerge. Ivar’s eyes widened when he saw them, and he immediately brought his free hand on his wife’s shoulder, pulling her slightly back. This brought an amused smile to Lagertha’s face.

“Do you think we could hurt your wife?” she asked him. “She is too powerful for anyone to hurt. And her love for your Kingdom, and your family, is to be commended. She is a good woman, and we…” Lagertha turned back to those who stood behind her, all of whom nodded to confirm what she was thinking, before turning back to Ivar. “We are proud to have fought for her.”

Ivar blinked a few times, but then his eyes narrowed, and he stepped around Freydis, approaching Lagertha and watching her closely for a few moments. After a while, he nodded. “You have come to the aid of my wife, and of my Kingdom, and my people, in their defense from King Harald,” he said. “Years ago, you killed my mother, but now you have fought alongside my wife.” There was silence for another few tense moments, and then finally, he said, “The debt between us is paid.”

That night, there was a great feast in the halls of Kattegat. The Sons of Ragnar were all home, Lagertha and Torvi drank with old friends, and the celebrations went late into the night, until it could be certain no work would be done by any citizen of Kattegat. For the first time in many years, there was peace.

And then that peace ended.

Many days had passed, when Freydis began to feel a pull. It was a pull all in Kattegat knew well, the one which would bring any person to the Seer’s doorstep. She did not knock, but simply stepped inside, looking for the Ancient One who would be able to answer why she felt the need to see him.

“Ancient One,” she greeted, and the Seer gave no more than a grunt in return. “You know why I have come, don’t you?”

“I know only what I am allowed to know,” he said. “And I must guide based on those things.”

Freydis tilted her head slightly. “What things do you know?” she questioned.

The Seer looked to her, and she gazed down at his face with a thoughtful expression. She knew what he needed, knew for sure when he stretched out his hand, silently asking for hers. She presented it to him, her palm up, and he took her hand in his to keep it steady as he leaned forward and licked it. Her heart jolted.

“You have seen only what you wish to see,” he told her then, and leaned back. “All your senses deceive you, and your heart lies broken in the Great Hall of Kattegat, in the woods beyond the gates. However far you run, betrayal runs in your shadow, and when you wake you will face it a final time.”

Freydis narrowed her eyes at him, and crossed her arms then. “Speak clearly, Seer,” she chastised. “Who will betray me?”

“Your mind already betrays you,” he said. “It has given in to your heart, your deepest desires, and put them before your very eyes. All has been lost, and you refuse to leave the past.”

“I don’t refuse to leave anything,” she snapped. “Unless you consider the rescue of my son and husband a refusal to leave the past, in which case you are a fool. What woman would leave her family to die, when she has the power to save them?”

“You know my words do not refer to what is done in this world, but the existence of this world at all,” he countered. “It is the past, and you deceive yourself with good things, things which will slip through your fingers, and have done so before.

“All have gone into the dark. Those who are not yours, they feel the agony in your body, your nightmares are their own, and so you have freed yourself from them.”

Freydis glared harshly at him then as she leaned toward him. “You speak lies, Seer. They do not feel what I have felt. I would never allow that for these people. No one deserves to feel what I have felt.”

But in her mind, she remembered what Harald said before she took his life. Things had not gone as she wished for them to have gone. What she had intended to do, she had not been able to pull off perfectly. Her pain and anger bled through, filled the people in this world, and they suffered so she did not have to.

“I know only what I know,” he told her. “And I know what you have done. You are not the Queen of Kattegat, you are the Queen of Chaos, and the magic in your veins will leave destruction in its wake.”

“And you mean for me to destroy this world I have created,” she said, and frowned. “You mean for me to return to the world I know, where I am alone, and I carry this pain alone. Is that true?”

“If you choose for it to be,” he answered. “Or you may not be alone. Your decisions will write reality. The nature of the magic under your skin will bend the truth to your will. But you must wake, or all will be lost.”

He was right, and that was the worst thing. Freydis knew she could never have anything, truly, if she did not wake from this dream. It had been a good one, while it lasted, but the trouble was that it could not last. Not in any good way.

She swallowed, and he could see the hostility melting out of her. “How long do I have?” Freydis questioned.

“You will have until night falls,” he said. “And when there is new light, there will be new life. Take it, and build what you have loved here again. Your magic is chaos. Bow to no order.”

The Seer’s words haunted Freydis as she walked through the streets of Kattegat. As she looked around herself now, she recognized the truth. She had always known it to be true, had known her control came from the fact she had created this, but she had created something false. Her heart had broken, it needed repair, but the repair it needed would only come in what was real.

It would come in a small apartment, through fighting her husband, through hearing him, and through speaking to him. It would not come from an idyllic life which was not real, and could never satisfy her.

Her feet carried her beyond the gates, beyond the wall which surrounded the world she had once called home. They carried her to the woods, and eventually, to the place where King Ragnar Lothbrok and King Björn Ironside once sat and looked over their Kingdom, the weight of the crown fresh on their head.

She looked down at her hands, and looked up to the mountains behind her. If she began undoing this all now, it would reach the Great Hall at nightfall, and by dawn, she would wake.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lifted her hands, as her magic poured from her fingertips, and it enveloped the world she loved. The world she lost. And she wept, she wept as her heart broke once more.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927, @punkrocknpearls, @pomegranates-and-blood

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary:   Stretch asked Edge where his newest acquisition came from. Time for explanations.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

That Morning

The first task Edge had to accomplish was trying very hard not to vomit. No matter how he tried to brace for it, going through one of his brother’s shortcuts always sent his equilibrium into a tailspin that left him retching on his knees at the other side.

Red only stepped to the side, mouth curling in distaste. “bro, you ever gone get over that? seriously, it’s embarrassing to have you yakking on your boots whenever we need a quick exit."

"Fuck off,” Edge rasped out, gagging back another heave. He took a slow, deep breath, another, and then staggered back to his feet, “If you’d care to quit bitching about my issues with motion sickness and tell me why you brought me here, we can get this over with. Where are we, anyw—” He paused, for the first time getting a good look at their surroundings.

That morning, Edge wasn’t halfway through checking the traplines when his brother appeared, stepping out from nowhere directly in front of him as he never did. For once, his sharp, careless grin was absent and in its place were clenched teeth and grim words. “got something i need to show you, boss.”

Edge hadn’t hesitated to go with him. Much as his brother appreciated a terrible joke or a worse prank, Edge trusted him with his life and that unusual seriousness left him equal parts reluctantly intrigued and worried.

A few hasty steps, a shortcut, and a bout of nausea later, and Edge was beginning to rethink that trust.

He whirled around and asked in a furious whisper, “Have you lost your moronic little mind?”

“nah,” Red shrugged, rolling his shoulders lazily and turned to walk down a long, dimly lit hallway. “no more than usual, anyway. c’mon, this way.”

There was little choice but to follow him. Overhead, the fluorescent bulbs sputtered and flickered, flashes of lightning from a manufactured storm illuminating the trash and filth that lined the walls, giving them a setting that was perhaps better suited for the horror movies that Papyrus was so fond of. The comparison wasn’t far off; no sane Monster came anywhere near Alphys’s lab, which would certainly explain why his brother brought them here. It must be something like insanity on both their parts, on Red for coming and Edge for staying.

Edge followed after his brother with carefully silent steps. He wasn't worried about Alphys seeing them on her cameras, they never seemed to work around Red, but that wouldn't help them if she walked right in on them as she investigated some careless noise.

Red didn’t seem to have the same compunction; his sneakers trod heavily, untied laces dragging through the filth. His rough chuckle seemed to echo around them, carrying them along, “heh, you know what’s funny? i still know my way around in here. can’t remember where i put my fucking wallet most days, but an internal map of this shitheap, i got no problems. funny how some things stick.” He kicked aside a moldy ramen cup, a fouled plastic spoon skittering out of it. “i keep tabs on ol’ al, you know. i ain’t sticking my neck out, but i like to keep my nose hole poked into whatever she’s been gettin’ up to down here. just lately, she's been going through the old scientist’s shit, tryin’ to recreate some of his old experiments.”

“She’s been doing that for years,” Edge said, low. “What changed?”

Red stopped outside the door and an unexpected shudder went through his small frame, the rattle of his bones muffled beneath his heavy jacket. He straightened before Edge could so much as lay a concerned hand on his shoulder, twisting out of his reach with a casual indifference that was almost believable. “yeah, well, it ain’t the core she’s been workin’ on.”

Behind that door, the room was lit by a single bare bulb and in its incandescent glow, Edge could see several large, glass tubes filled with some sort of thick liquid lining the back wall, with wiring and pipes spidering out from them and across the ceiling. Beneath the bulb itself was a long steel table, starkly empty except for the unremarkable heavy cardboard box sitting directly in the middle of it. Red gestured sharply at it, though he didn’t approach it himself, and warily, Edge stepped forward to peer inside.

He caught his breath against the raw, painful lurch in his soul, a brief moment of sharp pain that left behind a peculiar numbness inside him.

Inside the box was a skeleton, so small that the perfect curve of its skull could easily be held in the palm of a hand. Its bones were bare, gleaming a soft ivory in the garish overhead light, its sockets were closed—no, her sockets, from the revealing arch of her pelvis. A female, a girl, a child, sleeping naked and alone in a dank room in a hidden, underground lab.

Edge’s gaze drifted over her, absorbing every detail, from the tiniest fingerbones and their delicate joints to the breadth of her small feet. His gaze caught on her lowest rib and held there, frozen. There, engraved on her tiny, fragile bone, was a number, fresh and chalky-white, particles of dust still clinging to it. Unthinkingly, Edge reached out to touch it with a shaking fingertip, his glove whispering across the bone, and he could nearly hear her screams of pain as an indifferent scientist carved their mark into her, as if she was nothing more than another piece of equipment, something new to break.

She stirred, her tiny face scrunching and her little legs drawing up as she mewled a protest, perhaps against his touch on the still-raw wound or perhaps against her callous nakedness, considering that there was a blanket carelessly tossed over the side of the box.

Edge picked up the blanket and something fell out of it as he did, landing at his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, saw what it was. A dingy little gown, thin from repeated washings, one that had surely been used before years ago,

(please let it be years ago)

The numbness in his soul was fading and what it left behind was something else entirely. Edge gritted his teeth hard enough to taste dust and gingerly slipped the gown on the baby, covering her bareness. Then he cautiously wrapped her in the blanket, swaddling her tightly, and gently settling her, still asleep, into the curve of his arm.

Behind him, Red shifted uncomfortably, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor. “boss? what are you do—?”

He broke off on a shout, jumping back as the first attack swept through the room. Heavy glass shattered, as loud as a gunshot, a flood of foul liquid gushing from the broken tubes even as Edge summoned another attack, another, equipment sparking and shrieking beneath the onslaught of jagged, blood-red bones.

“what the fuck are you doing!?" Red screamed, but Edge wasn’t listening. He couldn’t, all he could hear was the child screaming in his head as a number was carved into her, scarring her permanently, marking her as not her own.

‘S-3’

In one corner, a curl of rising smoke turned into a flame, yellow tongues licking at the trash surrounding them greedily. Smoke was filling the room, alarms beginning to blare as Edge turned on his heel and walked out.

“boss,” Red moaned out, nearly jogging to keep up with Edge’s long-legged stride. “you’ve lost your everfucking mind.” But his mouth began to curl, a savage grin spreading across his face as he summoned his own attack, bones flying through the air and there was nothing but broken glass, the alarms, and the steadily growing fire.

"we're gonna fucking die," Red grumbled as they made their way through the long hallways. But he followed along, wreaking his own destruction along the way.

~~*~~

“…and then we came here,” Edge finished. He didn’t look at Stretch, not at all sure what he would see in his face. Disgust, perhaps, for his lack of control, or horror that he very nearly led that world right here to the Swap brother’s doorstep. Better to look at the child, who was sleeping soundly in her little pillow nest. None of this was her fault, least of all her own creation, but it was all because of her, nonetheless.

What came from Stretch was a question so far from his expectations that at first, Edge couldn’t quite comprehend it. “so what’s her name?”

Edge’s head jerked up and he could only look at him blankly. He didn’t even realize his mouth was open until Stretch reached over and gently closed it with a nudge to his chin. He didn’t pull away, only looked at the baby out of the corner of his socket, her rounded little face relaxed in sleep and her small hands closed in lax fists. Nothing like a name came to him, she was only the child, a baby, how could he possibly…?

Perhaps his growing agitation showed on his face. The knuckle on his chin turned into a light touch on his cheekbone, drawing his gaze back to Stretch. “don’t worry,” Stretch said lightly, “there’s no rush on that. we’ll put our heads together and think of something.”

“She's my responsibility,” Edge blurted thoughtlessly, “This was my choice.” He winced even as he said it; it was true, but it wasn’t what he meant, he didn’t know how to say what he meant. This was his responsibility, his burden, but to call an innocent child a burden aloud was too repugnant to consider.

Stretch only nodded. "yep, she’s all yours, no one is taking her away.” Those simple words eased some of the agitation rising inside Edge, even as Stretch tilted his head to the side, offering him a lopsided smile, “that doesn't mean you have to slap away any helping hands, edgelord.”

“I…yes. You're right,” Edge exhaled shakily, reminding himself that he already owed Stretch a great deal, with more debt to come. “Thank you.”

“you don’t need to thank me for this. in fact, i really wish you wouldn’t,” Stretch climbed to his feet with a groan, pressing both hands into the small of his back as he lived up to his namesake, his joints letting out a satisfying series of pops. “c’mon, you should lay down. get some sleep, you look like hammered shit.”

Edge couldn’t help a faint chuckle. “Flatterer.”

“sexy hammered shit,” Stretch amended. “Come on.”

To Edge’s surprise, Stretch gently scooped up the sleeping baby, who never stirred, only snuggled into his arms as Stretch made his way upstairs to his bedroom. It was suspiciously clean; before all this Edge had been planning on visiting tonight and he could only look at the crisp, clean sheets with a sort of exhausted wistfulness that they would not be used as intended.

Stretch didn’t seem bothered to see his hard work go to waste. He flipped back the top blanket and settled the baby on the mattress, close to the wall. “hop in, edgelord, naptime.”

Realization that Stretch intended him to sleep with the child came slowly, and when it did, Edge took half a step back, balking, “What if I roll over on her? I could hurt her!”

Stretch snorted and shook his head. “you? don’t think so. me, maybe, but i so much as wiggle my big toe when we sleep together and you snap to attention. you’ll be fine, we’ll figure something else out later. c’mon, big guy, strip,” Stretch said teasingly, sweeping a hand across the sheets, “time for bed.”

“Don’t talk like that in front of the baby,” Edge grumbled, but he hesitantly obeyed, kicking off his boots and stripping down to his trousers. He left those on, it felt strange to sleep naked in someone else’s bed when they weren’t in it. His glare begged for Stretch to comment but he said nothing, only helped tuck the blankets around them as Edge settled in, being sure to keep a wary safe distance from the sleeping child before closing his own weary sockets.

“sleep well,” Stretch said, softly, and there was a soft brush across Edge’s forehead, like the shadow of a kiss. Soft footsteps made their way across the carpet, but Edge didn’t hear them. Despite his fears, he was asleep before Stretch even made it to the door.

tbc

[flowerfan2]

David x Patrick, 37k so far, A03.  Read from the beginning here.  Updates weekly.  Angst, h/c, with a happy ending (honestly the happy happens way before the ending...)

Summary:  Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him. After a rom-com worthy reunion, David decides he won't walk away again.

Chapter 12

Patrick wakes up the next morning to David smiling at him, already dressed in his running clothes.  He stretches up and David leans down, giving him a chaste kiss that shouldn’t make either of them blush the way it does.

“Have a good run,” Patrick says, and David purses his lips to hide his smile.  

“Thanks.”

After David leaves the room Patrick turns and flops over, looking for a cool place on the pillow to hide his face.  

He knows why he feels so exposed this morning.  He and David have finally confronted the elephant in the room (not an elephant - “elephants are not sexy,” he can hear the David-in-his-mind chiding him) about their lack of intimacy, and although things almost went absolutely to shit, it all worked out okay.  More than okay.

And to be fair, saying that they haven’t been “intimate” isn’t quite right.  David said something last night that lights Patrick up inside when he remembers it.  

“I kind of liked just being close to you.”

David said it like a confession, like a beautiful secret he was holding close.  And Patrick loves him for it, because even while Patrick was feeling guilty about not going further physically, he was soaking up the joy of being close to David.

Patrick wants to kick himself for trying to rush them past this, this opportunity to give each other the comfort they both so desperately need.  Because Patrick was so busy worrying, he almost missed it.

They’ve gone about things differently this time around, for sure.  Back in Schitt’s Creek, the beginning of their relationship was full of firsts, and it was as heated and horny as Patrick always wished he felt as a teenager. This time, although they were drawn together from the beginning, it has been for warmth and tenderness, rather than sex.  And David doesn’t mind – more than that, he likes it.

It makes Patrick nearly cheer with glee, here under the blankets that are still warm with David’s body heat, that still smell of his cedar cologne.  He knows they have a lot to talk about, and a lot to process, but he can feel the bond between them growing stronger with every difficult conversation.  Every time they confront something that has the potential to drive them apart, and instead use it to heal and make new connections, Patrick thinks they are that much closer to something that will last.

He can hardly believe all that has happened over the past few days.  Stevie appearing on their doorstep was a real change-up that could have ended in disaster.  Instead, Patrick discovered that the rift between Stevie and David was caused by David being concerned for Patrick, even while believing that Patrick had cheated on him.  Patrick can’t help but find this endearing, even though David was wrong about him, and wrong in assuming that he should cut ties with Stevie the way he did.  

Frankly, Patrick has felt pretty bad over the past few years, knowing that Stevie and David weren’t talking.  Their friendship had seemed to be rock solid, and he knew it must have hurt for David to lose her, and vice versa.  But he had never imagined that David had arranged the whole mess himself.  He feels a pang of guilt for not pressing Stevie harder about what happened, but then again, it sounds like Stevie didn’t really know at the time, either.  

And regardless of what David did and why, he and Stevie seem to mended things.  Last night David’s face lit up when Stevie texted him silly photos of her and Ruth at Disney World, posing with princesses at a character dinner.  Although he might deny how much it matters to him, David is clearly thrilled to have his friend back.

Patrick finally forces himself to get out of bed and into the shower.  He stands under the hot water for a while, pleased to find that his various aches and pains are really much improved.  Even the nasty bruises on his ribs are better, most of the area now yellow or a faint green, instead of the dark purple from ten days ago.

David’s still out of the house when he finishes, so Patrick takes his time shaving.  He finds it easier to look at himself in the mirror these days, and it’s not just because his hair is starting to grow in over the healing gash on his head.  

David’s toiletries are spread out all over the countertop.  Patrick recognizes most of them, although there are some face creams that seem to be new.  Not everything is RA branded, probably because they stopped carrying some of the products when the brand cut down to just items needed for the motels.  

Patrick picks up David’s cologne and sprays a little bit on himself, knowing it will make David smile.  There’s a moisturizer that looks familiar, and of course the body milk, still a Rose Apothecary favorite.  He pauses when he sees a little round pot of lip balm.  Raising it to his face, Patrick twists the top off and breathes it in.

It’s a citrus blend with a fresh scent, a pale yellow balm that Patrick can’t help but sample.  He purses his lips and smooths it on, and suddenly feels a wave of déjà vu.

This is the lip balm David had been sourcing just before everything fell apart.  Patrick liked the scent, and thought it would be popular; David found the vendor difficult and didn’t want to agree to the terms she was requesting.  And both of them were annoyed that the vendor insisted on using a hard to find base for the product which might delay production.  They had almost agreed to go for it anyway (“it’s not La Mer, but it is remarkably moisturizing”) when their relationship imploded and new products were the last thing on Patrick’s mind.

He’s lost in thought, holding the little tub in the palm of his hand, when David leans against the open door of the bathroom and dances his fingers along Patrick’s bare shoulders.  “Find something you like?”

Patrick holds out the lip balm.  “I didn’t know you made this one.”

David stills, then takes it from Patrick and plays with it in his hand, tightening the lid and then showing it to Patrick.  <i>Limited Edition</i> appears under the Rose Apothecary logo.  

“You said it smelled like sunshine,” David says, looking anywhere but at Patrick.  “I ordered a box.  I was going to give them to you, one of the million or so times I imagined finding a way to see you again.”  David squirms, rolls his eyes and then holds it out to Patrick.  “Here.  Better late than never.”

Patrick smiles and leans over to kiss David, so David can taste his lips, already coated in citrusy goodness.  After they broke up, David had the lip balm Patrick liked made.  He wore it on his lips, thinking of him.  His heart swells.  “Thank you.  I love it.” Patrick sets the lip balm back down on the countertop, tapping it with a finger.  “Do you have any more?”

David gives him a wry smile.  “I think there were 144 in the carton, so, yeah.  I have a few left.”

*****

“Tell me again why we can’t go out?”  David is pouting, looking outside at the bright blue sky.  

“You are welcome to go anywhere you want,” Patrick says.  “But the window company is coming to install new hurricane screens, and I told my mom I’d be home to supervise.”

David turns towards Patrick, who is idly channel surfing, looking for something interesting to watch on television.  “Wait, what did you say?”

“The window guys are coming, and I told my mom I’d be here.”

“I believe you also said <i>hurricane</i>.”

“Well, yeah.  There are these special covering screens that you can pull over the windows in case of hurricanes, and some of them got dented or something and don’t extend right, so we’re having them fixed and some new ones installed.”

“Patrick.”  David backs away from the large patio door and into the center of the room, eyes wide.  “You did not tell me about hurricanes.”

“It’s Florida, sometimes there are hurricanes.  This isn’t exactly news.”

“I agreed to alligators, and bugs, and apparently I am also risking my toes to fire ants.  But hurricanes were never mentioned.”

“You didn’t ask for a disclosure form.”  Patrick stands up and approaches David, who is looking around the room as if the wind was going to pick up any minute and blow the house away like Dorothy’s farmhouse.  “And there’s really nothing to worry about.  It isn’t even hurricane season.”

“There’s a season?”

“Yup.  And it ends in November.”

“It was November just a few days ago.”

“Even if it was still November, there are hardly ever any hurricanes that late – maybe a tropical storm or two.  Most of the hurricanes are between August and October.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel safe?”

“Yes, it is.”  Patrick runs his hands down David’s shoulders, grasping lightly at his elbows.  “Would it make you feel better to hear more about how the hurricane screens protect us from the scary storms?”

David frowns, and then gives his shoulders a shake.  “Yes.”

Patrick pulls David down to sit on the couch with him and takes out his laptop.  “Look, the nice people from the hurricane screen company emailed us all kinds of information.  I bet they’d even let you watch them work.”

David glares at Patrick.  “I don’t appreciate you making jokes at my expense.”

Patrick grins back.  “We can watch a movie later, continue your education.  Maybe <i>Twister.</i>”

“You think you’re funny.  That’s not about a hurricane, anyway.”

Patrick thinks for a minute.  “There’s the one with the boat, in New England.  </i>A Perfect Storm.</i>   George Clooney’s in it.”

David smirks at Patrick.  “George Clooney, huh?  How old were you when that movie came out, maybe ten?  Eleven?”

“My dad likes movies about boats,” Patrick protests, his face feeling warm.

“If you’re in the mood for George Clooney, we should watch <i>Ocean’s Eleven,</i>” David says.  “At least that’s got Julia Roberts.”

“Leave it to you to know that.”

“I’ll have you know that Clooney’s been in other movies with Julia too, and one with Sandra Bullock.”

“Sounds like someone has a bit of a fixation.”

“I know everything there is to know about Julia and Sandra.  This cannot come as a surprise to you.  This body of knowledge just happens to include some information about George Clooney.”

Patrick catches David’s gaze, and then rakes his eyes up and down his body, as obviously as possible.  “Maybe I have a type.”

David looks like he’s about to jump out of his seat.  “Are you telling me I look like George Clooney?”

Patrick does think there’s a certain something about both of them, around the eyes, and the way they smirk.  And David will look fantastic if he goes salt and pepper the way Clooney has.  But they’re not really that similar.

“No.”

“Oh.”  Disappointment flashes across David’s face.

Patrick leans in and traces David’s cheekbone.  “You are much, much prettier than he is,” he says, his voice low.

Sadly, it is at this precise moment that the doorbell rings, depriving Patrick of the chance to bathe David’s blushing cheeks in kisses.  He gives David a quick peck and goes to answer the door.

*****

David excuses himself to do some work in the office while Patrick talks to the window installers, and reappears only after the workers have left.  They settle on the couch, bickering for a while about what movie to watch, and finally agree on Ocean’s Eleven (although David won’t commit to the entire trilogy, as Julia Roberts isn’t in Ocean’s Thirteen).

David seems jumpy all through the movie, and it makes Patrick worried.  He thinks about their conversation last night, both of them noting – correctly – that they should have just <i>said</i> something about what was going on, and David practically begging Patrick to tell him if he thought there was something David should do differently.

He pushes away the small pang of hurt at the memory that David rejected his advances, reminding himself that David is scared about this, too.  Not to mention that he doesn’t ever want to fall into the category of people who David regrets having sex with.

A shudder runs through him as he remembers David implying rather strongly that he’s been in sexual situations he didn’t consent to.  Of course it’s at this moment that David interrupts his train of thought, doing exactly what Patrick had been working up to.

“Patrick?  Everything okay?”

Patrick focuses on David, looking gorgeous in a leopard print sweater that fits snugly around his chest and shoulders.  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

David fiddles with the remote and mutes the television.  After a long moment goes by, he gives Patrick a look.  “What?  I asked first.”

Patrick snorts a little bit and slides closer to David on the couch.  “I was thinking about last night.”

David nods.  “Mmm.  Me too.”  He glances quickly at Patrick’s hand, resting on his knee, and lets go of the remote to grab it.   His palm is sweaty, which is very unlike David, and that’s when Patrick is certain that he’s nervous.  “I hope you know that I do want you,” David says, a slight blush tinting his cheeks.  “Very much.”

Patrick can’t help the shiver of arousal that goes through him just at these simple words.  He realizes with relief that he hasn’t felt this way in a long time, that last night was really the first time in ages that he was attracted to someone and comfortable about it, excited and happy and pleased and – safe.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Patrick says, pressing his knee against David’s.  “I want you too.  I mean, you probably figured that out, but in case there was any doubt, I do.”

David gives some sort of disbelieving head toss and purses his lips.  “I’m not naïve enough to think that just because someone comes on to me they actually want me.”

Patrick feels his stomach swoop.  “David?”  He shuffles closer and lays a hand gently on David’s shoulder.  “You know that’s not me, right?”

David rolls his eyes, but Patrick can tell he’s not convinced.  And <i>oh,</i> there it is, that’s why David hesitated last night.  Beneath all of his new athletic accomplishment, his designer sweaters and his continually impressive pompadour, David is still unsure of himself when it comes to his worth.  David took a leap, coming with Patrick to Florida at a time when Patrick himself was wobbly with self-doubt (he’s still wobbly, he knows it), but inside, he’s still David.  And whatever harm was done when the two of them broke up won’t be fixed in a week.

Patrick lays his head on David’s shoulder and puts his arm around him, pulling him close.  He can feel David relax against his body, and he waits to make sure his breathing calms before he speaks.  

“You’re going to trust me again, David,” Patrick says, and it’s not a command.  It’s a promise.  “We’re going to be okay.  We’re going to get through this, and when we come together again, it’s going to last.  We’ll be solid.”

David nods against his head.  “I’d like that.”

“Just give it a little time.  It’s okay to be nervous.”

David stills.  “Does being nervous mean I don’t have enough… faith in us?”  

“No,” Patrick says, trying to pour every inch of sincerity he has into his words.  “Absolutely not.  Being nervous is natural.  It’s expected.  Given what happened between us, I’d be surprised if you weren’t a little nervous.”

“I don’t want to hurt like that again,” David whispers, and Patrick’s heart clenches.  

“I don’t want you to ever hurt like that again,” Patrick says.  

“How do we do it differently this time?”

“Maybe just like this.  We talk more, if something’s wrong.”

“I didn’t say anything was wrong.”

Patrick smirks.  David can’t help himself, even in the middle of this heartfelt conversation.  “You’re right – nothing’s wrong.  We’re doing it right.”

David sighs and leans into him.  “Doing it right is hard, and kind of terrifying.”

“Don’t worry, the hurricane screens will protect us.”

[buttonso]

Happy Birthday, Harvey

WELL.... it’s Winter 14, gotta do something to acknowledge it! My drawing game is garbage today, so, I thought I would post a chapter from the fic I’ve been working on since summer.  This is actually the fourth chapter, but one could read it as a standalone.  The fic itself is rated Mature on AO3, but this chapter is pure fluff and should be appropriate for teens- there are a few swear words.

14th of Winter Ascending

Standing before the floor-length mirror on the back of his bathroom door, Harvey stood up as straight as he could, puffing his chest out. Unable to sit still or relax the last several hours, he’d taken exceptional care with his clothing this evening, putting on his best suit and tie, polishing his glasses and combing his hair carefully. ~Well... do I look handsome? Manly?~ He drooped and sighed. ~Or am I just a dork in a cheap suit?~ He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for tonight.  It had all the hallmarks of a romantic date, but neither of them had stated their feelings explicitly.

He hadn’t helped himself any with his own indecision. All that concern about ethics… he was starting to wonder if that had just been his fear talking, an excuse not to put himself out on a limb, not to take a chance. Or was he now, in turn, just rationalizing away his ethics in order to try to get what he wanted?  

~And what do I want?~ he asked himself as he adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time. ~I’m not just trying to… to get in her pants.~ He blushed to even think that vulgar term. He’d be lying if he claimed to not be interested in that, but…

But, but, BUT… “I’m going to give myself a stroke if I keep thinking about this,” he said aloud, frowning at his reflection. Aura was his friend. He trusted her, and thinking about not having her in his life was just too difficult to contemplate. No matter what happened tonight, it was bound to, at least, be a pleasant evening with a dear friend. He glanced at his watch and nodded to himself.  He’d have to get going soon if he was going to make it to the farm by 6…

Just as he turned to pick up his building keys, the buzzer linked to the after-hours doorbell began to ring. He froze, listening to the harsh sound, not really registering it for a moment, then dropped his keys on the table in exasperation. Of course. OF COURSE there would be an emergency, right now. ~It had better be something damn serious,~ He thought irritably as he stomped down the stairs into the clinic, through the lobby to the front door, throwing it open with some force…

Only to find Aura standing on his doorstep, holding a large basket and looking a bit sheepish.

“Um… hey Harvey.” She looked a little disheveled, her hair escaping from what had probably once been an elegant twist at the back of her neck. Her red scarf was drooping off her shoulder and trailing in the slush on the street at her feet.  “I’ve… had some difficulties,” She said slowly, giving him a weak smile.

“Are you all right??” He exclaimed, pushing the door open wider so she could come in.

“Yeah… I’m fine except for… everything I had planned… being… completely… fucked…” She answered through gritted teeth, her forced cheerfulness fading with every word until she sounded near tears. “My piece of shit oven crapped out on me… sorry for swearing so much, I just… just…” Her shoulders started to shake and he quickly took the basket from her hands, setting it on the clinic’s front counter.

“Don’t worry about that, just… come on, let’s get you warm,” He said quickly, picking up her scarf as it finally fell off her shoulder.  “Where’s Buttercup?” Surely she hadn’t walked all the way from the farm...

“I-I walked…”

DAMN IT. He opened his mouth to scold her, but she continued to speak in a rapid, somewhat strained tone.

“…Buttercup threw a shoe earlier today… I took her to Marnie’s but she said the farrier couldn’t come until Tuesday… didn’t want to risk laming her.. that wasn’t even the first thing to go wrong today. First thing this morning Murphy brought in a… I don’t even know what it was, I swear it was the size of a raccoon… but he dropped it on me in bed and the fucking thing was still alive…  Then I dropped a preserve jar in the kitchen and the goddamn thing EXPLODED, I had cranberry jelly all over my kitchen AND ME, it was even in my hair…I swear, I’m going to start taking that bullshit fortuneteller on TV seriously, you know, she said it was a bad luck day when I got my ass kicked in the mines, too…”

“Why didn’t you just call and cancel?!” Harvey interrupted, aghast, as he pulled the door closed behind them. He tried to take her coat, but she waved him off.

“No way… I wasn’t going to leave you in the lurch on your birthday,” She said stubbornly. “So... I improvised.” She gestured impatiently at the basket on the counter while Harvey made a second attempt at taking her coat.  She evaded him, pacing the length of the counter and back.

“Aura, how do you think I’d feel if you… if you broke your ankle and fell into some snowbank and died of hypothermia or something?!” He asked crossly.

“I imagine you would resurrect me just so you could yell at me,” She sniffed and shrugged out of her coat, tossing it onto the counter.

She wore a simple long-sleeved red and black striped sweater-dress that hugged her body to just above her knees, with black leggings and little in the way of jewelry besides a silver chain that rested in the hollow of her throat.  On her feet she wore black boots, laced tightly to mid-calf. The outfit was so simple, but it looked amazing on her. He knew he was staring… and that he should stop… or at least say something…

“So…” Aura’s cheeks, already pink from the cold outside, flushed a bit brighter as she moved jerkily towards the basket on the counter. “I think… there’s something we should get out of the way, before this evening goes any further.”

“Oh…?” Harvey’s breath caught in his throat, and he had the curious sensation of standing on a precipice.

Aura’s hands trembled slightly as she opened the flaps at the top of the basket and reached inside, slowly drawing out… a bouquet? A sweet-smelling mass of purple, blue, silver and white. Purple and white crocus blooms were interwoven with bright blue crystal fruits and white snow yams, the whole thing secured with a wide dark-blue ribbon. She held it out towards him, her expression shy.

His heart skipped a beat.

Could it be…?

“I’ve been told that people around here declare… feelings… that is, romantic feelings… with a bouquet. I wasn’t sure at first… I mean, most places I’ve lived, people don’t really do flowers at all, let alone women giving them to men, but… I asked Marnie if it was true and she said it was.”

“You… talked to Marnie about this?” Harvey asked, his mouth going dry.

“Yeah. After I went home from the clinic,” She replied.  “Well… I knew if I bought a bouquet at Pierre’s, the whole town would know about it before… before the person I wanted to give it to. And it’s not like I didn’t have time to kill over the last week…”

“…I see…” The leaves shivered as his hands closed over hers. Her hands were trembling as much as his were.

“Harvey… I think it’s pretty obvious even without these flowers… how I feel about you. But, just in case it’s not, well… here they are.” Her silver eyes held his. “For awhile now I’ve felt like… like we’re holding ourselves back.  I don’t want to hold myself back anymore. But if you don’t want it, then... then we’ll say no more about it, ok?”

She tried to pull back, but Harvey’s hands reflexively tightened around hers.  He couldn’t speak, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go either.

“…Harvey?” She tilted her head slightly. “…Are you OK?” A thousand emotions and thoughts were clamoring in his mind, making it hard to focus.  This was everything he’d wanted for so long… he’d told himself, over and over, that it was wrong to wish, to hope, wrong to want her. The excuses varied from day to day, moment to moment. Either he wasn’t good enough for her because she deserved someone more handsome, or someone braver, or someone stronger… whatever way he felt inadequate that particular day. If it wasn’t that, then he told himself it would be ethically wrong, to hit on her while she was his patient… but it was all a way to keep a greater heartache at bay.

“Harvey, please… either reject me or…or don’t…” She whispered. Her silver eyes were shadowed with vulnerability.  He’d dreamed of her for so long… could he really hurt her now?

“Aura, I…” He cleared his throat. “…I’m not strong enough…”

“Oh, DAMN IT, Harvey…” She stomped her foot in frustration, but before she could say anything else, he pulled her to him, crushing the lovely bouquet between them. Purple petals scattered around them as he wrapped one arm around her, holding her against him, finally holding her like he’d wanted to for months, practically from the moment they met. They each still had one hand on the bouquet, now squished awkwardly between them, and Aura’s spare hand clutched at his shirt.

“I was going to say… I’m not strong enough… to pretend like this isn’t exactly what I wanted,” He said in a shaky voice. “I kept coming up with excuses as to why I couldn’t be with you… because I was so afraid…”

“Harvey…” She squeaked. “Ribs…”

“Oh…” another flurry of purple petals as he released her, his hands going to her side, anxiously probing her ribcage while she continued to awkwardly held the smashed bouquet at arm’s length.

“Harvey….Harvey.” Her free hand batted at his shoulder. “Trying to feel me up when you haven’t even kissed me yet?” A bit of her usual dry humor was back in her voice, though with a bit of a tremble to it. When he looked up, her silver gaze captured him again, and she smiled, brushing her fingers across his cheek, then trailing enticingly over his lips. “You have beautiful eyes, you know,” She told him softly. “Lovely hazel green…It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.”

Harvey wasn’t sure if he kissed her, or she him, but it seemed as if every nerve in his body came to life when her lips pressed to his, a deep thrill running up his spine and making him shiver all over. There was a soft rustle as she finally dropped the bouquet and wound her arms around his neck, pressing her chest into his. When they parted, they were both a little breathless, and he felt himself smiling so broadly it almost hurt.

“I guess… I’ll just have to take the bus to the city when I have the sniffles,” She said archly, resting her forehead against his. “Since you’re so hung up about having to be my doctor…”

“Aura….” There were so many things he wanted to say, that it was her eyes that had drawn him in at the beginning, that he’d dreamed of this moment for so long…

…That there were so many things he was still afraid of…

“Just… just don’t ever let yourself get hurt like that again… my heart can’t take it…” He finally answered, shaking his head and hugging her as tightly as he dared to. “Thinking I’d lost you… I’d never been so miserable…”

Aura let him hold her for another long moment, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’ll do my best… it’s not like I enjoyed having a brush with death,” she answered, voice muffled. Then she gave him another, lighter kiss, this time on his cheek. “Happy birthday, Harvey. I may not have been able to make the dinner I had planned, but I brought leftovers from yesterday and I just thought, well…. We could just be together for a little while?”

“I didn’t think this birthday could get any better…”  Harvey said as they stepped away from each other, hands tightly linked.  He looked down in regret at the pile of blue and purple petals scattered on the floor around them. “I’m so sorry about that though… it was so beautiful, it really was..”

“Maybe I’ll make you another next year…” She said as they both knelt to scoop up the fallen flora.  She fished out a crocus that had survived the tumble to the floor, still intact, turning it slowly in her fingers, then absently tucked it behind her ear. “Save these, though, the crystal fruit make for pretty decent wine. Waste not, want not.”

Harvey caught her hands again, turning them over to admire her long, strong fingers, tracing the callouses on her palms before tugging her to her feet. “Come on.. let’s just worry about the mess later. You’re probably starving.”

“But we can just…” She began, then shrugged. “OK, birthday boy… you’re the boss.”

In that moment, it seemed the light in her smile would keep him warm for the rest of the winter.

____

If you are interested in reading more, it can be found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158031/chapters/60962605

[aye-write]

Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region. 

 However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is just a quick author's note today! Thanks to everyone who has read and commented! I hope you enjoy another chonk of a chapter and that the starters' introduction went okay! There were a LOT of Pokedex entries this week, so I won't be including them all in the author's note this time, but you can head over to our tumblr @kildo-pokedex​ to see them in full! See you in two weeks, everyone!

*****

Chapter Four

Things moved fast that night. Too fast. Morning dawned, dappling the sky with tangerine oranges and cotton candy pinks, and Isla soon found herself packed and standing on the doorstep of the cottage she’d almost come to think of as home.

Rhona fussed over Skye’s layers and blankets for so long that Isla thought they’d never get away. Even Blair started to look nervous, casting pointed glances first at his watch and then at his mother. It would be a long walk, he said loudly, at least five hours of walking, and they needed to get on. Finally Rhona got the hint and passed over a mammoth bag of sandwiches, juice, and crisps – enough to sustain an army for about a week – and both parents said their goodbyes. Rhona’s eyes were wet with tears when she broke her hug with her daughter.

Isla moved forward, meaning just to offer thanks, but before she could open her mouth, Rhona swept her into a rib-crunching hug.

“Now you be careful out there, chick,” Rhona said, her breath tickling the whorls of Isla’s ear. “You always have a home here with us, alright? Don’t you dare be a stranger. I expect to see you again here before you go back to Johto, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Isla said, her voice thick.

Kenneth shook her hand next, his huge fingers easily engulfing hers. He had a firm grip, yet surprisingly soft hands, and when Isla drew back, she found he’d slipped her two crisp twenty pokedollar notes.

“Kenneth, thank you, but I can’t take—”

“You take care of yourself,” he said firmly.

Isla decided not to argue. Especially when it was the most the giant man had ever said to her in one go before.

Blair took his mother’s hug with an embarrassed grimace, nodding along to a laundry list of instructions she hurled his way. Make sure you take frequent breaks. Don’t let Skye go wandering on her own. Make sure you feed a Clatty if you see one, it’s good luck. Don’t dare go any further than Aberdrip. Eventually, Kenneth clamped his hand on Rhona’s shoulder, and she stopped.

“I suppose you best be going, eh?” she said, forcing a quivering smile. “Before it gets too late on. Have fun, darlings. Call me when you get there. Be safe.”

“Thanks for everything, Rhona,” Isla said, her voice catching. She had to turn around to shield her face from view.

Blair, who had been battling to fit Rhona’s supplies into their travelling bag, grunted with satisfaction as he finally got the zip up, leaving the bag bulging like an overripe balloon. He felt around at his waist, unhooked a Pokeball, and tossed it over the gate.

“Coastrot, come out!”

Isla let out a breath as the ball burst open and she came face to face with Blair’s Pokemon. Easily reaching Blair’s shoulders, it had a long, lithe body with a clipped coat the colour of the ocean under the morning sky. Even when it stayed still, its mane and tail rippled like plumes of gentle flowing water. It was a stunning Pokemon – right down to its dark, inquisitive eyes and glistening hooves – but there was something unusual about it that Isla couldn’t quite put her finger on. As she stared, Coastrot’s body seemed to blur, wavering in front of her like a picture on a TV with a dodgy signal.

Blair saw her staring. “Touch him,” he suggested.

Isla frowned, uncertain. Under Blair’s watchful eye, she reached out to touch this new Pokemon, only for her hand to slip straight through its body, as easily as if she had just put her hand through a hologram. She whipped her hand away like she’d just been shocked. The Pokemon’s body turned solid again the moment Blair touched it to string up one of the bags.

Isla consulted her Pokedex. “Coastrot, the Mirage Pokemon. Its translucent body refracts light, and it will often appear as though it is surrounded by rainbows. If it doesn’t trust someone, they will not be able to touch it. This is seen as an unlucky omen by some.”

“Amazing,” she said. “So it only lets people it trusts touch it?”

“That’s right,” Blair nodded.  “Coastrot is actually the evolved form of one of the Kildo starters. He was my starter, so he’s been in the family a long time, but it still wasn’t easy for him to trust all of us. He lets me touch him, of course, and Skye, and sometimes Dad, but Mum is still a tricky case. Since he’s only just met you, it may take him a while to warm up.”

“That’s okay,” Isla held her hand out for the Pokemon to sniff. Its nose passed straight through her hand, a sensation rather like she’d plunged her hand into a bucket of ice-cold water. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

Blair clapped on Coastrot’s haunches, signalling everything was secured. He called for Skye and helped boost her up, Isla holding her breath as she entertained a vision of Skye sinking right through the Pokemon’s ethereal back. Luckily, Coastrot remained solid and strong, allowing Skye to settle herself.

“Hold onto his mane, there,” Blair fussed. “No, not there. That’s too tight. Just there, look.”

Skye made several wide-eyed glances over the Pokémon’s massive haunches as Blair made the final checks. Isla offered her a smile.

“I take it that you won’t be going for Coastrot’s evolution for your first Pokemon, then?” she whispered.

Skye shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Definitely not.”

As she waited, a breath of wind lifted the hair from Isla’s forehead, already moist with sweat from the heat of the beating sun. She’d dressed light, in a loose, billowing top two sizes up from her normal, and a pair of comfortable jogging trousers, but she still worried about the journey. The bag slung on her shoulders didn’t feel heavy now, but walking would leaden it. She’d sprayed most of a bottle of antiperspirant on herself before setting out, but she still had doubts about its efficiency. She could only hope they would take it slow and she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

“That’s us,” Blair announced. “We’re ready to go.”

And with one final look back at the Whispering Pines Croft, they set off.

**

Having left the confines of the family croft, Blair switched into serious mode. He had done some travelling when he was younger, he explained as they walked, enough to know the basics, and he’d made the journey between Aberdrip and Port Glen enough times to pick out the best route to accommodate Coastrot. Their chosen path along Route 1 started out as a stretch of delightfully flat ground, buffeted by a strong, salt-smelling, easterly wind. After an hour, the flat paths became bumpy and wild, grass rising as high as their knees, the tips of trees bordering the horizon.

Blair told them stories as they walked, a welcome distraction for the pain needling through Isla’s legs. He brought them to a stop at the peak of a hill to point out Loch Culla in the distance, a shimmering body of water neatly fringed with trees. A place claimed to be the home of an entire family of shiny Kildonian Lapras.

Skye’s shriek of excitement at this news startled Coastrot, and Blair had to dart to her rescue in case she was catapulted off. She wasn’t fazed. She still insisted on making the detour so they could go hunting for one. Blair laughed. The loch was a protected area for that exact purpose, he explained, and catching Pokemon wasn’t allowed there.

“But we can manage a picnic nearby,” Blair added when Skye’s face fell. “Come on, let’s go.”

Back to walking it was. Isla forced herself back to her feet. To give Blair his dues, he factored in plenty of breaks, at every rest stop or every half an hour, whichever came first. He said he wanted Coastrot to get plenty of rest, as he wasn’t used to carrying weight over long distances. Isla wasn’t sure how true that was, but she was grateful all the same. If Blair and Skye saw her flushed face, sweat patches, and occasional gasps for breath, they were very kind and didn’t draw attention to it.

As promised, they unpacked a picnic at the bank of Loch Culla and shared out sandwiches, fruit, and flavoured waters. Sitting in the shade, listening to the water lapping against the bank, and sipping their drinks fresh from the cool bag, Isla felt totally at peace, despite the numbing aches sprouting in the back of her calves. Blair recalled Coastrot for a proper rest, but Isla released Soba and Wingull to stretch their legs and wings. To keep Wingull amused, but more to stop him stealing, she lobbed his food into the air, sending him swooping and diving over the loch and into the deep grass in pursuit.

Skye didn’t eat much, her eyes trained on the still loch water. When Blair nudged her back to reality, she folded her arms and said, “Blair, I’m looking for Lapras. Leave me alone.”

Isla saw him roll his eyes, but when he spoke to his sister, his tone was nothing but gentle and respectful. “You won’t see them, Skye. It’s massively rare to see a Kildonian Lapras out in the open. They live pretty much entirely underwater. Proper deep down.”

Isla looked up from her sandwich. “Do they? They don’t in Johto.”

“Yep. Kildonian ones are different types too. Ours are Ghost and Dragon.”

“Water and Ice for us.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty different, isn’t it? I think the mainland variant travel a lot, but you can pretty much trace all Kildonian Lapras to just one or two lochs here. They don’t move around a lot. Hence why the area is protected.”

“It doesn’t look protected?” Isla said, looking around. There wasn’t a stitch of modern technology to be seen. No buildings. No cameras. Heck, there didn’t even seem to be any other people around other than just them. “There’s nothing here.”  

“Doesn’t need to be. See that sign?” Blair pointed out a sign nailed to a nearby tree. A bold, crimson X was splayed across a black and white image of a Pokeball. “That sign lets us know that there’s Anti-Pokeball Interference here. API for short.” When he saw Isla’s blank face, he frowned. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but basically, Dad said that it transmits some sort of signal that humans and Pokemon can’t hear, but it scrambles the capture mechanism on all Pokeballs. Makes them nothing more than fancy paperweights.”

“We certainly don’t have that in Johto.”

“It’s pretty new. Just come into fashion over the last year. Lot of folks don’t like it, though. I think they had protests out in Tideburgh. They say it violates our rights to catch Pokemon and that it’s going to lead to overpopulation. If you ask me, it’s a load of Tauros shi— uh, nonsense,” he corrected himself when Skye turned her head.

They lapsed into silence, Isla pretending to be fascinated with her sandwich crusts. They’d gone dry and hard in the sun, and she nibbled at them ineffectively. Wingull, amazingly, had eaten its fill and had nestled with his head (mostly) under one stubby wing. Soba, who had been luxuriating in the sun, had fallen asleep curled around a bottle of lemonade. Blair lay back in the grass, his eyes shut, making occasional contented noises. Skye was scribbling something in a notebook patterned with Slugma.

“We’ll head off soon,” Blair yawned. “I just want to rest my eyes for a few minutes.”

The soft noise of snoring drifted over the wind moments later. Isla had to resist the urge to join him. Sitting down had been fatal. Now her eyes felt as heavy as her legs and the thought of getting up again made tiredness sink into the very pit of her. She could shut her eyes for a few minutes, she reasoned. Just a few minutes. Just a few—

“Isla!” a voice cut through her thoughts. “Isla! Isla, look!”

Isla had to force open her eyes, gummed together like chewy toffee. Skye was on her feet, pointing at the nearby undergrowth.

“What’s goin—”

“Shush!” Skye hissed. “Just look!”

In amongst the green, leafy fronds was a flash of something dull and brown. It emerged from the grass like a Furret in miniature. It had a long, snake-like body, the colour of dark chocolate, and a cream underbelly. Its sharp, inquisitive nose twitched, and its tail swished like an over-eager feather duster.

“What is that?” Isla gasped, pulling her Pokedex out.

“It’s a Mudstel!” Skye said, just as Isla’s Pokedex chirped “Mudstel, the Mud Ferret Pokemon. Curious, but shy, Mudstel rely on their stealth and environment when hunting. They blend in well among trees and bushes, but if spotted, will quickly burrow underground to escape.”

“Gosh, it must be hungry if it’s come right out in the open!” Skye breathed out. “Can we try feeding it?”

“Yeah, if you like. Try it with the crusts there.”

Skye offered the Mudstel some of the uneaten crusts. The Pokemon held back, its nose twitching, eyes unblinking. Skye stretched her hand out further.

“Wait, Skye. Stay as still as you can,” Isla advised, not even daring to breathe too loudly in case she startled it. Skye’s wavering arm came to a stop. “That’s it. Let it come to you.”

After a few moments, the Mudstel stretched out its long, ribbon-like body. Skye looked like she was about to burst from excitement, but somehow, managed to stay still. Isla caught a glimpse of sharp white teeth as Mudstel opened its mouth and snatched the crusts from Skye’s hand. It didn’t pause to eat them, just turned on its heels, and dove back into the undergrowth.

They waited, but Mudstel didn’t come back out.

Skye looked crestfallen as the grass went still. “Bread crusts aren’t all that nutritious,” she said mournfully. “I wish it had stayed and I could have given it some Pokemon food. I think we even have some Pokemon Rock. That would have been even better for it.”

Isla made a sympathetic noise. “Maybe we can leave some pellets for it when we pack up and leave?”

“Maybe. But I wish I could have caught it. I don’t want it to end up starving. Mudstel wouldn’t come out and take food from humans if it could help it.”

“Some Pokemon are just opportunistic, Skye. He probably has plenty of chances to get food and then saw us and thought “Oh yes, a free lunch!” Pokemon are clever. They can take care of themselves.”

“I suppose.”

Isla slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Try not to worry,” she said. “We’ll be in Aberdrip soon and you’ll have your very own Pokemon before you know it.”

“I know,” Skye said. “I just… wish I could make friends with all of them. I don’t want any of them to suffer.”

“Then I think that means you’ll be a good trainer.”

Skye smiled. Isla’s heart skipped a little. Could this really be the first time that she had ever seen the younger girl smile?

A sudden kerfuffle sent them both looking over Blair, who snorted and pushed himself upright, making a strange gulping noise. “I wasn’t asleep! I wasn’t… sleeping?” He looked blearily across at Skye and Isla. “Was I sleeping?”

They didn’t answer. Instead, the noise of their laughter echoed across the loch like water tinkling from a waterfall.

**

They had stopped for another break on Route 3, a densely wooded path littered with fallen leaves and fresh with the smell of moss, when Blair got a text through on his phone.

Immediately, he was dialling a number, face twisted, and one hand covering his ear to block out the shrill shriek of the local Caperchick. A Caperchick, as Isla had found out was another of Kildo’s resident bird Pokemon. Pretty much helpless as babies, they were only able to eat, sleep, and call for help from others in their family group. Isla had hoped to see one, but Blair dissuaded her, explaining their later evolutions were territorial and aggressive. Most wouldn’t take kindly to humans on their turf.

It still didn’t stop her, or Skye, from hoping. Skye got up to wander four times while Blair stepped away to speak on the phone, poking at the bases of trees and among tall grasses. Or maybe she was just doing it to fill the time. Whatever conversation Blair was having, it was taking a lot of it.  

When Blair did eventually return, his face was pale. “That was Mum on the phone.”

Isla’s instant thought was Nana Morag. “Is everything okay?”

“Kind of. She’s just back from the hospital. Nana Morag is doing better, they think she’ll be alright to come home soon as long as she gets plenty of bed rest.”

“Did they find out what it was that made her ill?”

“They’re still waiting on some test results,” Blair said, worry creasing his eyebrows into one long caterpillar. “She said she’ll phone me as soon as they hear. Now, the other thing. Mum said she had a voicemail waiting for her when she got out of the hospital. It was one of Professor Spruce’s aides.”

Skye stopped what she was doing, pricking her head up.

“There was some problem with the breeders they use to supply the new trainers and they don’t have enough to supply everyone who wanted one.”

Skye looked ready to burst into tears. Blair saw this and quickly assured, “Don’t panic, Skye. They’ve just moved it to a booking system instead to try and get as many folks sorted as possible today. Mum gave me the number and I called the aide. You’re still getting your Pokemon – as long as we get there in time.”

Skye visibly relaxed but Isla felt like something had severed her at the chest. “When’s Skye’s slot?”

“2pm. It was the only one I could get. All the others were filled.  

Isla looked at the time on her phone. It was already ten to one.  

“Yeah,” Blair said, as Isla caught his eye. “We need to hurry.”

**

Isla hoped that adrenaline would see them through. That they could power on the remaining couple of miles without feeling the pain or the tiredness, subsisting only on the rush of purpose to get there. But it was hell. Pure hell. As they half walked, half jogged along unsteady ground, the air dense and muggy, the heat of the sun dripped down their backs.

I can’t let Skye down, Isla told herself as she dragged her aching limbs over the nobbled hump of yet another hillock. I’ll never forgive myself if I let her down.

Once, when the shooting pain of a stitch left her doubled over, she told Blair and Skye to go on without her. But she didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Blair cut in with “Absolutely not. We’re going together,” and that was the end of it.  

As it ticked closer and closer, the clouds receded, and the sun intensified. The air remained stubbornly heavy and humid. Finally, they were over another hill and Aberdrip loomed in the distance, a monochrome city with silver buildings reaching up like metallic petals. They didn’t stop to take in much else. Feet pounding the concrete, each step sending pinpricks of pain up Isla’s legs, Blair hailed a taxi. In one confusing bundle of recalled Pokemon, sorting of bags, and too many legs in one small space, they clambered in. Within minutes, they were speeding along the blurred roads, the streets like smears of running ink.

Professor Spruce’s lab sat right at the western outskirts of Aberdrip in a plot of land closed off by wrought iron gates. The taxi driver dropped them off at the bottom, and after buzzing through to the office, they were on their way up the vicious uphill path to Professor Spruce’s lab.

Stumbling through the front door, trembling with exertion, Isla checked her phone. Three minutes to two. They’d made it.

A concerned looking aide lead them through a maze of breezeblocked hallways. Skye stuck so close to Blair that they practically became one person. The aide opened a door at the end of a particularly long corridor, and they emerged into a room groaning with workbenches and strange equipment that wouldn’t have looked amiss in an old sci-fi film. The room was wonderfully chilled, the overhead fans pumping in swathes of cool air.

Blair and Skye gave the aide their names, Blair signed a proffered sheet, and then they were shepherded through into an adjoining room. As they stepped through, Isla felt the eyes of a dozen people land on her.

“Ah, Skye McLeod, is it?” came a voice from ahead of them. “Excellent. I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

Skye tensed next to Isla as the woman who had spoken – Isla assumed this was Professor Spruce – beckoned them forward. She was small, rounded, with greying hair slung into a messy bun. Her eyes were sharp, glinting like the sheen of ice over a frozen puddle. Easily a foot shorter than everyone else in the room, she still commanded everyone’s attention.

With a wave of her hand, Professor Spruce separated Skye and the two other young trainers – one girl and one boy – from their respective guardians. Isla collapsed gratefully into a nearby chair. Blair was rigid in his own seat as Professor Spruce took the new trainers through the standard “First Pokemon” spiel. It was a comforting lecture, so much so that mixed with the relief they had made it in time, Isla soon felt her eyelids drooping.

Then, voices surged.

“I want to go first!”

“No, I’m going first!”

“Enough!” Professor Spruce barked, her voice tight. “Being a Pokemon trainer isn’t about who goes first. It’s not even about getting exactly what you want. If you go into this life expecting to get what you want all the time, you are setting yourself up for failure Pokemon are as unique and individual as each one of you. A “weak” Pokemon can become strong from the right training and support. On your journey as trainers, I encourage you to open your hearts and minds. Embrace all that this region has to offer you. Take a chance on people – and Pokemon – you might not expect to. They might just surprise you. Now, young lady…” Professor Spruce’s eyes fixed on Skye, who had been sitting quietly the whole way through. “Why don’t you come up and pick your partner?”

Frozen under the expectant gaze, Skye didn’t move. The other two new trainers muttered as the silence grew. The faces of the parents clouded. Still Skye didn’t move. Or perhaps she couldn’t.

Isla pushed herself out of her chair. Despite the angry murmurings from the other guardians, she threaded herself in next to her. “Skye, do you want to go up first?” she asked.  

Skye nodded.

“Would you like me to go up with you? Or maybe Blair?”

She shook her head, but no words came out.

“Just take your time. I know it’s a bit scary, but you can do it.”

With the encouragement, Skye faced the three Pokeballs next to Professor Spruce. Each one was furnished with a plaque listing information about the Pokemon inside. Isla read them over, trying to absorb the information quickly, in case she was asked to sit back down. One Grass starter, one Fire, one Water. Exactly the same as Johto.

Coozy, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Little Cow Pokemon

Good natured and docile, this Coozy is an excellent choice for those who enjoy a slow and steady pace in life. Be careful not to let him get lazy and complacent!

*

Bleater, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Nightlight Pokemon

Aloof yet curious, this Bleater will be a loyal companion to any trainer willing to take the time to get to know him. Be warned, Bleater are prone to dependency on their trainers later in life.

*

Coltide, Lv5

Gender: Male

The Water Horse Pokemon

Spirited and independent, this Coltide can be a handful without firm guidance in the beginning. However, you will rarely find a more dedicated Pokemon out there!

*

Curiosity burned at the back of Isla’s head, but now wouldn’t be the right time to interrupt everything by checking. For now, she turned back to the chairs and waited as Skye made her final decision.

“This one.” Skye eventually said. “I would like this one, please.”

“Excellent choice,” Professor Spruce said kindly. “Why don���t you take your, uh… guardians towards the back and fill out the paperwork? The aide will have your license waiting for you.”

“You go,” Isla motioned to Blair. “I’ll wait here.”

While Skye was away dealing with her paperwork, Isla watched the two remaining trainers making their picks. Compared to Skye, there was no hesitation. The boy beelined immediately for Coltide, but the other girl seemed perfectly happy to be left with Coozy. Which, of course, meant that Skye had chosen Bleater.

One by one, the families left for the other room, and Isla had the chance to look closer at the three Kildo starters. She painstakingly punched the names – or her best memory of them – into the Pokedex and clicked Image Search.

Coozy, she decided, would have been her choice. It was almost painfully cute; small, and quadrupedal, covered in a thick coat of moss green fur, a pale pink nose, and dark inquisitive eyes. Her arms ached to hug it.

Now, Bleater was cute too, she thought. It reminded her of a favourite Johto Pokemon – a Mareep – just smaller. Its wool was coarse and tightly packed against the body, in a vivid orange, the colour of flame. Its short, stubby legs and the small nubs of horns were a much darker orange, a striking contrast to the rest of its body.

The final one, Isla could figure out on her own. An aqua blue body, a mane and tale reminiscent of flowing water, black hooves polished like obsidian, and dark, beguiling eyes. Coltide, the previous evolution of Blair’s Coastrot.

“You seem very interested in the starters, young lady,” Professor Spruce’s voice cut through Isla’s thoughts, making her jump. “Not local?”

“How could you tell?” Isla laughed nervously.

“I’ve been around the block too many times,” Professor Spruce said. “Kanto?”

“No, Johto. My accent is a bit softer though, so I get why people mix them up.”

“Johto, eh? That’s a long trip. What brings you here?”

“Visiting family. And some research into the Kildonian Chessmen.”

Professor Spruce’s eyes widened. “How interesting.”

A perfect opportunity had fallen right into her lap. She would be stupid not to take advantage of it now. “Professor, do you know anything about them?” she asked. “Or the Vitalities? Anything you could tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like where they could be found?”

Professor Spruce’s eyebrow arched. “Well, no-one really knows where the Chessmen are now. Recent reports claim they settled in remote places – like islands far away from the mainland or underground. But that’s all just theories. There hasn’t been a confirmed sighting in over a century. But the Vitalities, on the other hand…”

Isla leant forward, closing the space between them.

Professor Spruce seemed to think better of what she was about to say and let out a sigh. “You have to understand something first. The Vitalities are a polarising bunch. Much of my generation, us old folks, even some of the more… naïve younger people believe the Vitalities are responsible for the natural disasters around Kildo.”

This wasn’t news to Isla, but still she pressed “Why?”

“The Vitalities brought many gifts to humans. Some were used wisely. Others weren’t. One of the most enduring theories is that the Chessmen banished and trapped the Vitalities to four remote corners of Kildo to prevent them intervening in humans’ natural progress. There’s an argument to be made that the natural disasters are the Vitalities fighting back, I suppose rebelling against their banishment.”

“So, no-one knows where they are? Or the Chessmen?”

Professor Spruce shook her head. “You may have noticed that Kildo is a region on a precipice. Pokemon journeys, gym circuits, the battling leagues, these are all very new to us. And they’ve become very popular very quickly. Up until about twenty years ago, most people in Kildo only used Pokemon to help them work the land, to till crops, things like that. It was like the whole region carried this collective memory, a shared fear of what happened when technology became too great a force.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes. But that fear has diluted. It’s been lost among much of the new generation. Things have changed. We’ve made amazing technological advances since then, eclipsed even some of the other regions that have been doing this for much longer. I’m sure you’ve heard about our API technology and Ability Suppressors and Experience Boosters, all that sort of thing.” Isla hadn’t, but she didn’t want to stop her and ask. Lots of people think it’s amazing. Lots more people are scared. Scared that if the Chessmen were to wake again, and were to see the way we have advanced, they would do exactly what they did the last time they awoke.”

The phrase festering in Isla’s mouth felt ridiculous. Laughable. But something compelled her to say it anyway.

“That they would destroy the whole region?”

Professor Spruce’s piercing grey eyes met Isla’s.

“Exactly.”

[julessworldd]

Little Rose

Chapter 4

warnings: cussing, physical fighting(mention of it), its guns so alochol, drugs, sex, fighting. 

A/N: To the mutals, who helped with being groupies. I do degrade you in this, drag your character through the mud. I didn’t make it to make fun of you or anything striclty for the plot. I love you wondeful babies! @reigns420​ as Michelle @marteolus24​ as Evelyn, @slashscowboyboots​ as Karen(I forgot to ask my bad) Hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the late upate <3

Groupies never bother me too bad, unless I needed one of the boys and they were balls deep in a groupie, who had been with Van Halen to Motley Crue. They were a part of the rock n’ roll scene along with booze, drugs, traveling the world.  I never saw the hype in them, to me they were just cheap easy girls, who had issues that needed male validation to cope with life’s fucked up ways.  The boys’ groupies have never liked me or wanted to believe that I was Axl’s sister and the band’s assistant. I’ve had one call me a whore for kissing Axl’s cheek before a show one night. Greffen wasn’t too happy to hear, Guns N’ Roses’ assistant sent a girl to the E.R with a concussion, two broken ribs, a busted nose and chin. 

“Hey Princess”, Duff pulled into his chest from behind. 

“Hi Handsome, how was sound check?”, I turned around and had my arms around his neck. “Good, I missed you though”, Duff ran his hand over my rib cage. “I missed you too, Dork”, I kissed his chest, feeling his warmth and sweat. “Come on”, He grabbed my hand. Duff was dragging me like a child to his dressing room. “Duff, slow down”, I giggled. Duff suddenly stopped in his tracks.  “Duff, what’s wrong?”, I asked.  “Oh hey, Duff”, I heard a female voice. “Uh hi”, Duff swallowed. I looked passed him and sure enough it was a groupie.  “Wanna go into a storage closet and have some fun?”, She walked up to Duff and ran her hand down his chest. My blood was boiling and I saw red.  “Uh what is she doing here?”, Michelle snarled her nose.  “Yeah, Duff what am I doing here with you?”, I asked. Duff stayed silent and still. Michelle smirked and pulled Duff by his hair, “I think I hear Izzy hollering for me, see ya around Duff”, I turned around and walked down the hall.  Normally, I would have pounced a groupie for being that rude to me, but Duff hasn’t come out and said he’s off the market. “Hey Janie, I thought you were with Duff?”, Axl asked.  “Oh yeah, he was tired and fell asleep”, I lied. Axl nodded, “I’m gonna call Erin, anything you want me to tell or ask her?”  “No, just tell her I love her and peanut”, I smiled. Axl walked down the hall to his room. “What now?”, Izzy asked, leaning on a wall, lighting a cigarette. “Nothing”, I rolled my eyes.

“There’s something, your eyes are darker”, Izzy said. “Just a groupie is all. Why the hell can’t they figure out when guys are taken? Mhm? Hell that probably doesn't occur to them”, I said.  “Who was it?”, Izzy asked. “Michelle, I think. Her and Duff definitely had something more than wham bam, thank you ma'am. He didn’t do anything to get her to quit, let her rub up on him and his chest. While I was standing right behind, he didn’t tell her to quit because he has a girlfriend.”, I said sinking to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m sorry kid. Duff probably froze, like a deer in headlights”, Izzy said, sitting next to me. “He didn’t say or do anything when I told him I thought I heard you hollering for me. Wonder what he’s doing with that-”, I clenched my fist, anger boiling within me more. “Go find him, kid. Kick his ass but not too bad we got a show”, Izzy moved hair away from my face. “I’m like Axl, I have blind anger. I'll kill him if I don’t get pulled off of him. Remember that girl I sent to the hospital last year. It took Axl, Duff, a security guard to get me off of her. I tried fighting the security dude too.”, I breathed out. Izzy knew how Axl and I are wired, I can actually bite back unlike Axl who just barks half of the time. “True, just go talk to him, set ground rules. I love Duff, but you’re the little sister I never wanted but will kill for you”, Izzy held my hand, smiling at me. “Thanks Izzy, love you”, I kissed his cheek, before getting up again.

I bounced down the hall, like Popcorn does. “Hey Janie, guess what?”, Axl grabbed my hand, making me stop. “Yeah Ax?”, I turned to him, he had a smile the size of Texas.  “I’m having a daughter”, He almost had tears in his eyes. A Niece, a princess like I knew at the airport. “That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you two. We were right”, I laughed, trying to not to cry. “I know, can’t believe I’m gonna have a daughter. What if she doesn't like me?”, Axl had pulled me into a hug. “You’re gonna be an amazing dad, Axl. I promise you that, you’re not gonna be like him. You’ve pretty much raised and protected me for years and I’ve turned out good. Oh I love you too”, I squeezed him tightly. “Thanks kid, love you too”, Axl smiled. 

I knocked on Duff’s door, he opened it. He had tears streaming down his face, his face was blotchy and pink. “Hey, what’s the matter?”, I asked. “I’m sorry, Janie”, He said. “For what?”, I asked softly. “For not telling Michelle that I’m with you. You probably thought I cheated, I didn’t. I love you and never want to lose you. I told her and that I wanted her to let the others know what Duff McKagan is happily with Axl’s little sister”, Duff pulled into his bare chest. I saw lipstick marks on his pecs, collarbone.  “Duff, it’s okay. I’m sorry leaving you, I was just taking myself away before I pounced on her. I love you. Did she try kissing you?”, I rubbed his chest where salmon color lipstick stained.  “Yeah, I pushed her away. Probably too hard for a girl, but it just happened that way”, Duff said. “I believe you, Duffy. She would have a busted face from me so your pushing was okay. I think she got the point after you freaked out on here”, I laughed. Truthfully, I’m not sure what Michelle would have got from me. Duff wasn’t  gonna be wrapped in a red ribbon with a bow on his head, at her doorstep that’s for sure.  “Oh I gotta tell you something”, I smiled up at him. “What’s that, Princess?”, Duff asked. “Axl is a father to a baby girl, we’re right”, I giggled. “Holy shit, that’s amazing”, Duff kissed my forehead. “I know! I’ve already bought a sleeper when we were in Manchester. It has a pink elephant with a purple bow”, I gushed. Duff was just staring at me with adoration and a smile on his face. “I just hope she doesn't have her dad’s red hair”, Duff smirked.  “I have red hair, what’s wrong with red?”, I whined, my heart felt like it was stabbed. “Nothing, just aggravating Axl is all. I love your red hair, love running my fingers through, I like it when I wake up and it’s in my face.”, Duff grinned, kissing me. “Fuck you, bottle blonde”, I stabbed back. “Mines dirty blonde naturally, baby”, Duff smirked. 

We finally finished the European leg and were back in the U.S, the American leg was always easy and fun.  “Baby? Wake up”, I heard Duff whisper into my ear. “Mhm”, I groaned. “Oh I woke you, my bad. Go back to bed”, Duff said. “No what do you want?”, I asked, yawning. He didn’t say anything, I felt his tent on my thigh. “Really Duff it’s 4am?”, I groaned. “I’m sorry, he has a mind of his own. Not my fault you’re so damn gorgeous”, He whined. “If I give you head, will you leave me alone so I can sleep?”, I asked, rolling over to face him. Duff nodded, but he raised his hand a little. “What is it, Duffy?”, I sighed. “Actually, I wanted to give you head?”, He blushed a little. “Oh”, I laughed. “Same thing, will you let me sleep?”, I asked. He nodded his head furiously,  “Better make worth your while, bub. Waking me up, when I was sleeping so-”, I said, but he attacked my core. “Mhm fuck Duff”, I whined. “You said to make it worth my while”, Duff said as he entered two fingers in me. I pushed his head back, “Don’t talk”, he continued eating me out. Soon enough, Duff triggered my high and I whined and pulled his hair. Duff came up and rubbed his head, “I’m not a girl who you’re curb stomping, damn.”  “I’m sorry Duff, I’ll make it up to you”, I kissed him. “Really?”, Duff smirked. “You gotta let me sleep for a good while, okay?”, I said fluffing my pillow more. “Fine”, he whined. “Go to sleep, Duff. It’s almost five am”, I said. “But, I still have a problem”, Duff pointed to his crotch.  “Alright fine you broke me. If any injuries occur don’t sue me”, I sighed, crawling to him.  “Sue you? Baby, you don’t get paid enough”, Duff smirked. “You’re burying yourself deeper, boy”, I gave him a go to hell look. After giving Duff a sloppy/sleepy head he finally let me sleep. 

“If you touch me besides a cuddling position. Think of me as  the Berlin Wall, you’ll know what barbed wire feels like between your legs”, I looked at him.  He nodded and he was out like a light. 

Izzy was known for being quiet and a part of the shadows,which was cool the majority of the time. Only if we weren’t on tour and Duff and him had an interview and he needed to be ready in five minutes. “Hey Slash, have you seen Izzy?”, I asked the curly guitarist, who was strumming his guitar. “Uhh, I think he went off with a groupie. She was blonde, sorta small, kinda like you”, Slash grinned. “He doesn't have time to rail a chick right now. Fuck, you guys really stress me the fuck out at times.”, I pinched my nose. “Sorry, Janie. I think he took her to his room”, Slash gave a tiny smile. “Thank you, Slash. See ya around”, I gave him a hug. “See ya kid, be safe”, Slash said. “I’m older than you,'' I said, opening his door. “And I’m taller”, Slash laughed. “I hope your string pops”, I smirked. Duff was standing outside our room, “Hey Gorgeous” “Not now! Are you ready? If you’re not, I’m gonna kill you with your bass”, I said. “Yeah, waiting on you and Iz”, Duff said. “Apparently, he’s balls deep into a blonde chick. Like I know exactly who he’s fucking Slash”, I rolled my eyes. Duff was gonna say something when we heard a huge pornographic female moan along with Izzy’s name. “He’s finished now”, Duff smirked.  We leaned against the wall next to his door, “See ya around Iz”, the door opened and revealed the groupie or random chick. She blushed seeing Duff. I gotta keep him a shorter leash. 

“Jeffery Dean! Get your ass ready now, before I cut your head off”, I yelled standing outside his door.  “I’m dressed, Janet! Anything else you wanna bitch at me for?”, Izzy yelled. “No”, I said sad and my lip started quivering. Izzy and Axl are the two people I hate to be yelled at from, Izzy could be brutal especially if he was coming down from smack. 

I stayed in the green room as the boys were being interviewed by Kurt Loader.  Izzy hasn’t yelled at me like that since my ex, Ashton, cheated on me twice. I know Izzy wasn’t exactly yelling towards me, but he was being loud and it reminded me of being back in Lafayette. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God, Janie he done it twice for fuck sakes. When are you gonna see he’s a piece of shit and you deserve better!”, Izzy yelled. 

“Izzy, leave her the fuck alone. She’s upset”, Pamela rubbed my back. 

“She’s fine, Pam. Leave her alone, she needs to be bitched at. Axl’s out fucking whoever, so it’s my job to-”, Izzy stopped in mid sentence as I smacked his face. The room was silent, Pamela’s mouth hung open, Izzy held his jaw and cheek.  “Fuck you, Jeff!”, I slammed the door and ran down the stairs to my car.  “Janie?”, I looked up to see Duff standing with a case of Budwiser.  “You okay? Did you and Axl fight again?”, he asked calmly.  “No, Izzy and I did. Ashton cheated on me again and Izzy lost his shit over it. Pamela told him to lay off, but he didn’t. He made me so fucking mad that I uh smacked him across his face. I just ran down here. Are you here to hang out with Izzy?”I said while trying to hold my tears. 

“I was, but screw him. Wanna drive around for a while and finish the case?” Duff asked in a soft voice. Duff and I were kinda close but Axl told us no funny shit. “Sure. Your car or mine?”, I asked. “Come on”, Duff held his hand out for me. I was hesitant to take it. What  if Izzy or Pamela were looking down. “Come on, I won’t bite”, Duff grinned. I took his hand and he led the way to his car.  We drank the whole case and made out in the backseat.  “Ashton was an ass to you, I hated seeing the way he treated you”, Duff admitted. “Why? He was just a dude, who I was too blind to see he’s shit. Izzy is right”, I sighed. “I mean yeah Izzy had a point. I care because I hate seeing girls being treated like shit. I would kill  a guy from treating my sisters like he did you. You’re an amazing woman, Janie. You’re sweet, protective, loving, got the prettiest smile ever. Any guy would be lucky to have and would be a fool to lose you.”, Duff said. “Thanks Duff. You’re not so bad yourself. Too bad Ax told us no funny shit”, I said. “You always listen to your brother? You’re 22, Janie”, Duff asked. I climbed into his lap and kissed him. 

That was the first time we fucked and led to where we are now. Ironically, I pissed Izzy off and Duff is being his sweetheart self, mending the pieces back between us.  The door opened, I looked over. It was Izzy. “Here to yell at me more cause you didn’t get enough smack this morning?”, I sassed. “Janie, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep last night, Karen wouldn’t get off of me”, Izzy defended himself. “I don’t care. Where’s Duff?”, I asked. I wasn’t ready to accept his apology and hug him again. “Outside the door”, Izzy mumbled. I passed him and went to find Duff. Duff was getting ready to lit a cigarette, a stick was perched between his teeth as he rummaged to find a lighter. I brought my lighter to him. “Thanks, gorgeous”, Duff smiled as he blew out smoke. I forced myself into his arms and laid my head on his chest. “What’s wrong, baby?”, Duff wrapped an arm around my back.  “I just need to be held for a bit”, I mumbled. “I can do that, Janie”, Duff whispered, bringing me closer to him. 

It was getting close to showtime, each boy was in their dressing room doing whatever pre show ritual, finishing a quick nap. “What happened between you and Iz?”, Axl asked, combing his hair. “Just him coming down, you know how he is if you tell him what to do. Plus he was with a groupie.”, I said. “Who was it?”, Axl asked. “What the fuck does it matter? You’re married and have a kid on the way”, I scoffed.  “You’re right. I’m sorry he yelled at you. I can kick his ass for you”, Axl pulled me into a hug. “I love you, but Izzy would put up a good fight. He’s scrappy”, I giggled. “Hey there’s that laugh”, Axl grinned, ruffling my hair. “Have a good show, Ax. I’m gonna go find Duff. Love you”, I said, kissing his cheek. “Thanks, kid. Love you too”, Axl rubbed my shoulder. Duff’s door was cracked, weird. Maybe he got hot or a roadie forgot to shut it back. I opened the door, a girl was in his room but no sign of him. “Uh who are you?”She asked. “His girlfriend, who the hell are you and why are you in here?”, I asked, feeling my blood pressure rising.  “Evelyn, I always come see him when he’s in town.”, Evelyn flipped her black hair back.  “Listen here you green-eyed sex kitten, Duff isn’t single anymore. So you get your horny ass up and tell all the other whores that Duff McKagan isn’t available for you to have fun. I’m sure you can find one of the guys to fuck in a storage closet”, I said. “I’m not leaving until I hear Duff say he’s with you”, Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, sweetness. You’re leaving now without a scratch or you’re leaving in an ambulance. Your choice, Evie”, I smirked. “I’m not leaving until I hear Duf-”, She was cut off. “Evelyn, I would get up and leave if I was you and had some sense”, Duff said. “You’re not seriously with this rude bitch? Duff what about what we had?”, She whined. “I am, I appreciate you if I would stop being rude to my girl, I asked you to leave”, Duff said, standing behind me. Evelyn huffed and walked out. “I’m sorry that they don’t listen and are rude to you. I just forgot to tell them”, Duff said, bringing my hand to his chest. “That’s not gonna work if you don’t tell the press you’re not single anymore”, I pouted. “I did today, Kurt asked if Izzy and I were single or not? It was a fan question”, Duff said. “Really?”, I blushed. “Sure did. Said how much I love you and how you make me feel safe, like I’m home”, Duff said.

I smiled, “That’s how I feel about you. You’ve always made me feel safe” 

“I’m glad I have, you’re so damn pretty”, Duff smiled. “5 minutes”, a roadie said. “Good luck”, I kissed his cheek. “Thanks. You gonna watch?”, Duff asked. “Of course, silly”, I said as we left his room. Steven was drumming his sticks on the wall and Slash’s top hat. Izzy stood staring at the floor. “Iz?”, I asked.  He looked up at me, I pulled him to my arms, “Can’t stay mad at you, no matter how much I try to. I’m sorry screaming at you this morning”, I whispered. “It's okay kid, you’re just doing your job. We kinda give you a hard time, sorry about overreacting to you”, Izzy rubbed my back. “Good luck”, I kissed his cheek. “Thanks”, Izzy smiled. “Hey you two made up”, Axl said. “We did”, I smiled. They had to go on. 

I’m glad we can fuss at each other and at the end of day we got each other's back. Crazy, dysfunctional family, but it was the closest thing to a family I had.

[sparrowstrikewrites]

Cutting Roots

Drabble for @tendaysoftenzo 3 (Rouge Ninja) and Day 4 (Sensei)

Summary: It all happens fast. Mokuton responds to emotions and Tenzou’s angry. Next thing he knows, he’s got Danzou’s blood on his hands, 2 kids in dire need of a medic, and a horrible suspicion about the Uchiha Massacre.

Rating: Teen (curse words, blood, canon typical violence)

At first Kakashi tried to ignore the banging, but it just kept going and the front door didn’t deserve that abuse.

Kakashi rolled off the couch and heaved himself to his feet with a groan. A quick glance at the clock said it was just after 2AM. I’m going to give them so much shit, the teenager grumbled. He hadn’t been asleep, but it was a principles thing. When someone takes 3 days off for bereavement, you don’t show up at their house at 2 in the morning.

“The world better be ending,” Kakashi growled as he pulled the door open. The words died on his lips as he recognized the anbu on his doorstep.

Tenzou was wearing his sleeping clothes, gray standard issue for anbu. A splatter of what Kakashi assumed was blood crossed his chest. His shoulder length hair was messy and his eyes were too wide.

Something was very wrong.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Tenzou said. His voice was hollow. “We need help.”

Kakashi pulled the door open the rest of the way. Standing behind Tenzou were 2 kids. They couldn’t be more than 5 or 6. The taller one, his hair looked about the same color as Kakashi’s in the moonlight, leaned heavily on the smaller, dark haired one. They both stared at Kakashi with blank expressions. 

Kakashi noticed they were both armed like shinobi, from the kunai holsters on their thighs to the swords on their backs. He stepped back inside and pulled the door with him, a silent invitation.

Tenzou staggered inside and the kids trailed him to Kakashi’s kitchen.

Kakashi stuck his head out the front door and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of any pursuers, for now.

Kakashi grabbed the first aid kit out of the kitchen cabinet and turned to Tenzou first. In the light of the kitchen, it was definitely blood on his gray shirt.

“Where are you hurt?” Kakashi asked.

Tenzou shook his head. “It’s not my blood.”

Kakashi narrowed his eye at his kohai. He couldn’t see any visible injuries.

“Shin’s sick,” Kakashi glanced at the kids. It was the dark haired one who’d spoken. He was holding the other boy upright in one of Kakashi’s chairs. 

Kakashi gave Tenzou one more look over before he shifted his focus to the kids.

Kakashi crouched down beside Shin. The other kid shied away from Kakashi, but refused to leave Shin’s side.

“I won’t hurt him,” Kakashi promised softly. 

The dark haired boy looked skeptical, but he didn’t draw a kunai so Kakashi wasn’t too worried.

Shin, didn’t look good. His skin was cold and clammy, and his cheeks were flushed with fever. At Kakashi’s urging he opened his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to focus on the shinobi’s face.

Kakashi put his ear against the kid’s chest and listened. Even without a stethoscope, he could hear the way each breath rattled.

Kakashi stood up and stepped back. “Shin needs to go to the hospital.”

The dark haired kid’s grip on Shin’s hand tightened.

“Can’t,” Tenzou muttered. “The hospital will just send him back to the anbu health center. They have orders not to interfere with Root.”

Kakashi whipped around and stared at Tenzou.

Tenzou was staring down at the blood on his shirt.

“You mean these kids are Root?” Kakashi demanded.

Tenzou didn’t say anything, just dabbed at the blood with his finger.

“Danzou-sama trained us,” the dark haired kid said from behind Kakashi. 

Kakashi didn’t take his off of Tenzou. “How long do we have before Danzou’s on my doorstep? Does he know you took them?”

“I killed him.” The words fell out of Tenzou’s mouth like rocks. He blinked a couple times, like he’d surprised himself. 

Kakashi’s eyes went wide. His mind was moving miles a minute. The only thought that stuck was, we can’t stay.

“He was making them fight,” Tenzou’s voice rose in pitch and volume, “Like Kiri. Like the Bloody Mist.” He sounded half hysterical when he finally looked up and met Kakashi’s horrified stare.

“Fuck.”

“I didn’t mean to do it. I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Itachi and I thought a walk would clear my head. I heard them in the arena and went to see who was training. When I saw Danzou and the kids, I knew what was going, but I asked anyway.” Tenzou’s chin quivers and his voice wavered. “Danzou told me and he said things…” Tenzou trailed off. His mouth twisted into an angry snarl, “things about the Third, the clan heads, and the Uchiha. He said things about you and Itachi and it just happened.”

Judging by the way the wooden floor was sprouting little branches and grabbing at Kakashi’s ankles, he didn’t have to guess what “it” was. Tenzou’s mokuton was powerful and it responded as much to his emotions as much as his thought. He’d worked so hard to wrestle it into submission, but there was only so much control you could exert over a kekkei genkai you were never meant to have.

“Good.” Kakashi’s tone left no room for argument and it surprised him as much as it did Tenzou. Just like that the tension in the room broke. 

Tenzou’s shoulders sagged with both exhaustion and relief. 

“Go get cleaned up,” Kakashi ordered. “Grab some clothes out of my closet and start packing go bags. Mine’s already packed, but you and the kids will need gear. It’s not the worth the risk of going back to the anbu compound.”

Tenzou nodded once and made for the stairs.

Kakashi turned back to the kids. “What’s your name?” he asked the dark haired boy.

The kid hesitated. 

“ ‘S kay, Sai,” the other kid mumbled. His head was resting on Sai’s shoulder. If Sai moved, he would have fallen out of the chair.

The dark haired boy, Sai, glanced between Shin and Kakashi. “My name’s Sai. This is my brother, Shin. Please don’t let him die.”

Kakashi felt like someone kicked him in the chest. Instead of Sai, he was looking at another dark haired kid. “Promise me you’ll protect Rin.”

Kakashi took a shuddering breath. “I’ll do what I can. I’m not a medic.”

Sai nodded. He could accept that. 

“I’m going to move him to the couch,” Kakashi said. He figured if he didn’t startle the kids, they were less likely to instinctively put a kunai between his ribs. He’d seen first hand how efficient and skilled Root made their anbu. Just because they were kids didn’t mean they weren’t lethal.

Kakashi slipped a hand under Shin’s knees and another behind his shoulders and lifted him out of the chair. The kid seemed to weigh nothing. He shivered and shifted in Kakashi’s arms, pressing closer. 

Sai trailed Kakashi like a shadow from the kitchen to the living room. 

Kakashi hummed softly. He remembered his dad doing this when he was small and sick. If the tune had words, Kakashi’d never learned them.

“Can you put a pot of water on the stove and get it boiling?” Kakashi asked Sai.

Sai nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Kakashi stared down at Shin and considered his options. He had some fever tablets. They could bundle him in blankets and try to sweat out the fever, but that wouldn’t do anything for his lungs. They were definitely full of fluid.

Kakashi checked Shin’s bulse. It was light, fast, and irregular. The fever was the easiest thing to treat, but probably not the thing most likely to kill him. 

Sai stuck his head back in. “It’s boiling.”

Kakashi nodded. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it around Shin. “Good. The steam might help clear his lungs.”

Kakashi carried the pot into the living room and set it on a stack of hot pads beside the couch. He put the fever tablets in Shin’s mouth. They were the sort that dissolved. 

“How long has he been sick?” Kakashi asked Sai.

“Forever. He coughs when we run and sometimes he wakes up and he can’t breathe. It’s been getting worse for 3 months. He used to cough a lot, but not anymore,” Sai explained.

Kakashi nodded. “Where do you sleep?”

“We have barracks.”

“Cold, damp, crowded?”

“Yeah. Lots of people get sick. Danzou-sama takes them away when they complain and we don’t see them again. Shin didn’t say anything, because he didn’t want to leave me,” Sai’s voice was small and he clutched the hem of his black shirt in little fists.

Kakashi wanted to scream. Instead he held his breath and counted to five before he let it out. “Watch Shin. I’m going to go see if I have any other medicine upstairs.”

Sai settled on the floor beside the couch without a word.

Kakashi found upstairs Tenzou digging through the closet for blankets.

“How are you holding up?” Kakashi asked.

Tenzou shook his head. “I don’t know. I feel numb.”

“I don’t know if Shin is going to make it. I’m thinking he’s got pneumonia and probably something else too. Pneumonia’s usually a secondary infection.”

Tenzou sighed. “They didn’t want to fight. Danzou was trying to force them. The other kids ran when I… Shin wasn’t able to run and Sai wouldn’t leave him.”

“I’ve got some antibiotics in the medicine cabinet. They’re old, but they might help,” Kakashi sighed. “I need to know what Danzou said about Itachi.”

Tenzou hugged the blanket he was folding to his chest. “He didn’t say anything outright, but the comparison he was making was between you and me and Itachi. He said Itachi was a good soldier. That the new Root were all good soldiers.”

Kakashi leaned against the wall. The world was spinning. He and Tenzou shared the same critical flaw in Danzou’s eyes. The fact that they were both still breathing was evidence to their failure as soldiers. They questioned orders. They disobeyed orders. They failed to kill each other and failed to kill their hearts. 

“I think Itachi might have been following orders,” Tenzou gave voice to the half formed thought Kakashi was trying to grasp.

“Fuck,” Kakashi breathed. 

Tenzou just nodded. They’d both taken Itachi’s betrayal hard, but Kakashi had seemed determined to shoulder the blame. He was Itachi’s captain for 2 years, he said he should have seen the instability in the Uchiha.

“I can’t think about this right now,” Kakashi muttered. He turned on his heel and began ransacking the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.

The bottle of antibiotics was almost full. They were woefully out of date, but Kakashi’d read that most medication remained effective well after its expiration date so he’d kept them. The bigger issue was that they were dosed for an adult man. 

Behind the antibiotics were an untouched steroid dose pack. Kakashi grabbed those too. They’d been meant to be taken alongside the antibiotics.

Kakashi mentally did the math, guessing at how much Shin weighed and how to break the pills, as he walked back down the stairs.

Sai had moved from the floor to the arm of the couch, where he could perch and easily keep his fingers on the pulse point in Shin’s throat.

Kakashi decided to give the kid a whole antibiotic and half the starting dose out of the steroid pack.

SInce it looked unlikely that Shin could swallow the pills, Kakashi ground them up and mixed them with a little bit of milk, it was the only thing he had that might mask some of the flavor. 

“This is going to taste pretty awful,” Kakashi warned Shin. He wasn’t even sure the kid could hear him now. “But you need to try to swallow it.” 

The sludgy mixture slid down Shin’s tongue and he whined. His face scrunched up, but he didn’t try to spit it out.

“Good job,” Kakashi soothed.

Shin seemed to settle. 

Sai looked at Kakashi. His eyes were so dark that Kakashi couldn’t tell where the pupil ended and the iris started. It gave him a perpetually wide eyed look. With his blank expression, he reminded Kakashi of the old legends about fae and changelings. “What happens now?” Sai asked.

Kakashi hesitated. “We’ll see how Shin is in a couple hours and go from there.”

Sai nodded. “We’re traitors now, aren’t we?”

Kakashi flinched. 

“No. The village betrayed us first,” Tenzou said from the bottom of the stairs. He had 3 backpacks in his arms that he dumped on the floor by the door. “Danzou did horrible things. The village is better without him.”

Sai looked at Tenzou and cocked his head to the side in confusion. “But we’ll need to run away right?”

Tenzou glanced at Kakashi. “You and Shin are going to go with me. We’ll find someplace nice and quiet where Shin can get better.”

Kakashi frowned. “I’m going with you.”

Tenzou shook his head. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You aren’t asking. I’m telling you. I’m going with you and we’re going to get answers.” Kakashi’s jaw was set and there was a spark of fire in his dark eye that Tenzou hadn’t seen since the Uchiha Massacre. 

Tenzou motioned for Kakashi to step into the kitchen. Out of sight and earshot of the kids, Tanzou met Kakashi’s questioning stare. “You want to go after Itachi.” It wasn’t a question.

Kakashi nodded. He’d argued against it just 2 days ago, when the blood hadn’t even dried yet. He refused to kill Itachi and he refused to let Tenzou shoulder that burden. Now, they had an excuse to take Itachi alive. 

“If Danzou ordered the massacre, he set Itachi up to take the blame. Itachi may have escaped the village, but there’s got to be Root anbu on his trail. Danzou couldn’t afford to have Itachi tell anyone the truth behind the massacre. It’d tear the village apart. At the very least the Hyuga would riot.”

“Assuming Itachi didn’t just snap like we all thought.” Tenzou said it without any weight. It didn’t make sense. Never had.

Kakashi nodded. “I want answers and Itachi needs backup. Even if he’s batshit crazy, he’s still part of Team Ro.”

Tenzou smiled at that. For someone with the title of Friend-Killer, Kakashi was the most loyal person Tenzou’d ever met. He pretended not to care, but when shit hit the fan, Kakashi was always ride or die. It was exactly why Tenzou knew he could do this. “I need you to stay here,” Tenzou said.

Kakashi’s head jerked in surprise. He’d thought when Tenzou smiled that the discussion was over. 

“I need someone here that I can trust and pass information to,” Tenzou explained. “I made this mess. I need to clean it up.”

“And Itachi’s my mess,” Kakashi argued.

Tenzou folded his arms. “He’s not your responsibility anymore. He was Danzou’s mess and, as the most senior member of Root, now he’s mine.”

Kakashi opened his mouth to keep arguing, but Tenzou cut him off.

“When Danzou’s death is discovered, it’s going to throw the village off balance. The Third loved him like a brother. Knowing how he reacted to Minato’s death and Orochimaru’s betrayal, it’d be foolish not to expect every politically hungry creep to come out of the woodwork and take advantage of the situation.”

Kakashi nodded. The Third had been relatively passive his second term. Everyone knew he’d lost his edge and his confidence with Orochimaru’s defection. If Kakashi were being generous he’d say that was why the man had such a blindspot towards Danzou.

“I need you here, the village needs you here, and so does Itachi. He left Sasuke for a reason.”

Kakashi’s shoulders dropped in defeat. Whatever deal Itachi had made with Danzou was now void. If the youngest Uchiha had any political protection, it died with Danzou. There were a lot of eyes on Sasuke and none of them were friendly.

Tenzou saw the fight go out of Kakashi. 

“Alright. I’ll let you go, but if you get yourself into trouble I’m coming after you.”

Tenzou nodded and put his hand on Kakashi’s shoulder. 

Kakashi pulled Tenzou into a hug. It was stiff and awkward, but neither of them made any move to pull away. Kakashi noted that Tenzou’d had another growth spurt they were about the same height now and with Tenzou being 2 years younger than him, there was no doubt that he was going to end up taller. 

After a long minute, Kakashi let go of Tenzou. 

“Let’s go take care of you kohai,” Kakashi muttered and nudged Tenzou back towards the living room.

Kakashi watched Tenzou for a second before following. He was gangly, like most 14 year olds, but he moved like a vveteran shinobi. Kakashi knew Tenzou could take care of himself, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of letting him go alone.

Tenzou was bent over Shin, checking the kid’s temperature when Kakashi picked his way over to the couch. 

Kakashi caught Sai’s eye. “Congrats, you’re getting promoted. Welcome to Team Rho. We’ve got an impressive mission record, so don’t mess it up.” 

Sai sat up straighter and squared his shoulders.

Under his mask, Kakashi’s lips twitched into a humorless smile. “Our first mission is to determine the truth behind the Uchiha Massacre and whether or not Danzou Shimaru intentionally destabilized the village. I’ll be running point in Konoha. Tenzou-san will be leading the away cell.”

Tenzou blinked in surprise. “I guess that means I’m getting a promotion too?”

“You were due,” Kakashi shrugged. “The 3 of you should get some sleep. I’ll watch Shin and wake you up before dawn.”

Sai reluctantly let Kakashi make him a bed on the opposite end of the couch from Shin. THey were both so small that their feet didn’t even touch.

Next, Kakashi shooed Tenzou upstairs to the bedroom. 

Kakashi took up Sai’s previous post on the arm of the couch and watched the kids sleep.

Tenzou didn’t sleep long. An hour later, he was back in the living room. He sat on the floor by Kakashi’s feet and didn’t say a word. 

Tenzou listened to the boys’ breathing and Kakashi humming softly. His heart was racing. His mind kept replaying the night over and over again, like it was still trying to believe that it had actually happened. 

Danzou had raised him. He’d thought of Danzou as his father for most of his life. When he learned the truth, he’d hated the man. But even then, the hate had been tainted. How could he really hate the man who made him what he was. Who was he without Danzou?

Shin whimpered in his sleep. 

Kakashi reached out to brush a hand across his sweat soaked forehead and murmured soothing promises until the boy settled.

Tenzou tensed. The magnitude of what he was taking on crashed down on him. He had no memories of his life before are 6 when Danzou saved him from Orochimaru’s abandoned lab. When he was sick, Danzou told him to push through it. When he was hurt, Danzou told him to get used to the pain. When he was scared, Danzou told him to bury it. 

Tenzou had no idea how to care for a kid, let alone a kid like him. 

“Stop panicking,” Kakashi ordered. His voice was low to keep from waking the kids.

Tenzou took a shuddering breath. 

“Just be the person you need when you were their age,” Kakashi whispered.

Tenzou closed his eyes and nodded. He couldn’t get the words out around the lump in his throat to tell Kakashi that he was the person Tenzou had needed.

“You can do this.”

---

Shin’s fever broke an hour before sunrise and he slipped deeper into an exhausted sleep.

Kakashi bundled the kid in a couple blankets and settled him in Tenzou’s arms. 

Sai knew how to shuushin, so the 2 older anbu figured he’d be able to keep up. 

Kakashi stood in the doorway and watched the road long after the 3 Root anbu had disappeared. 

When the sun started to brush the roof, kakashi went inside to burn Tenzou’s bloodstained sleeping clothes and destroy the rest of the evidence of his housemate.

Too full of adrenaline to sleep, Kakashi spent the rest of the morning drafting his resignation from the anbu. With 2 of his teammates rogue shinobi, he’d never be trusted again. Besides, Kakashi had a mission and he could do it better outside of the anbu. Sasuke needed someone to protect him and train him. Danzou had been the driving force behind Konoha’s jinchuuriki policy. With him dead, Kakashi intended to carry out the promise he’d made to Minato and Kushina’s graves. 

Tenzou had his kohai. It was time for Kakashi to go get his.

---

Tenzou stopped late in the morning, just outside of a small town in the middle of nowhere. 

Sai was exhausted and Shin’s fever was back. It was time for Shin to get another dose of medication and they were far enough from Konoha that Tenzou was willing to let their little team rest.

The woman at the front desk of the town’s only inn took one look at the tall, skinny teenager in an anbu uniform and the 2 kids with him and handed the teen a room key. One look was all it took to decide this was the sort of shinobi stuff you didn’t interfere with.

As soon as the door was open, Sai staggered in and collapsed onto the nearest of the 2 double beds. Tenzou was pretty sure the kid was asleep before his legs stopped moving.

Tenzou settled Shin on the other side of the same bed as Sai and dug the medicine Kakashi had sent out of his backpack.

Shin stirred and opened his eyes. 

“Hey,” Tenzou said softly.

“Hi,” Shin mumbled. He smiled when Sai scrambled across the bed and pressed himself against Shin’s side.

“Think you can swallow some pills?” Tenzou asked.

Shin nodded. He took the pills Tenzou put in his hand and sipped from a water bottle. There was color back in his face and when he coughed it sounded like the fluid in his lungs was breaking up.

Tenzou breathed a sigh of relief. They were going to make it. They’d stay here for a few days, let the search parties pass them by, and then make for the Land of Rain. The last reports had Itachi crossing the border and heading towards Ame with a masked man.

Note: I might come back and add to this piece someday, but I’ve already got an in-progress long fic, so for now this will stay as a drabble. 

[jackbabewang]

Genre: Veeeeery slight angst, Fluff, Best friends to lovers

Word count: 3,050

Being together is that—

No matter how many days, weeks, months, or years go by, keep every promises made.

a/n: heavily listened to coming home while writing this, maybe you should too

When we first met

Jaehyun was the kind of person who endeared himself to everyone who knew him and you were swept off your feet the first time you saw him, roaming the corridors looking for your new classroom where they’d been relocated in the beginning of each year. The school personnel had this system going on ever since the dramatic increase in the number of students and to suit the new batch of each grade, or simply cause of the Pungsu-Jiri (Korea’s Geomancy or Feng Shui) thingy. Yeah, it was kind of unnecessary. 

Given plenty of time to break away from each other’s gazes if you wanted to, but neither did even with your feet continued walking yourselves in the opposite direction. 

How could anyone have such warm brown eyes as those? It was virtually impossible! 

Jaehyun changed your whole life as you knew it. You became best of friends, and whispered to each other on every occasion possible.

Twenty minutes into the class you spent sipping your Coke with your head bent, under the desk, behind the erected textbook to shield yourself. 

History teachers were obsessed with things that weren’t there any more. They lived in the past and expected us to want to live there too. You couldn’t imagine that any history lesson can be a thrill a minute, but with Mr. Lee in command, the expression ‘to die for’ took on a whole new meaning. Mostly everyone sat there sighing and thinking, “Why are the clock hands moving so slowly, has the battery committed suicide?” Mr. Lee was a very boring teacher. You meant very boring. He looked boring and sounded boring and everything he said was boring. He was Mr. Boring-Boring, Sir Boringest, Lord Boring of Boring-in-the-Brain. He droned on and on and on about nothing you wanted to know, then wrote it all on the board and told us to copy it down, or write an essay on it, or ask him questions. He didn’t get many questions, mainly because no one had been listening or trying to read his crabby handwriting.

SLUUUURP— 

Reaching the bottom of your cup, though not too loudly, just loudly enough so that Mr. Lee, standing in the front, a few feet away, could hear you. 

“Who was that?” he roared, his eyes darting everywhere, scanning everyone, until they settled on you. 

Instinct was not about being the smartest, but it was about being in tune with your inner drive and you turned to your only friend. He first eyed you with confusion, then gave a questioning look over the top of his glasses

“Jung Jaehyun!” 

At the call of his name, his jaw dropped, eyes widened with disbelief, frustrated and full of rage at being your scapegoat. This girl! She’ll be the death of me. 

In the end, you compensated for your mistake by flashing him the widest smile in your footlocker collection of smiles.

The beginning: Promise of the youth

During the summer holiday, you secured a part-time job at a rental record store. Jaehyun would sometimes visit and you would play the newest music out dancing and clowning around when there were no customers in the store. 

“Hey, tell you something. That guy at the counter-” 

Jaehyun tilted his curious head to the direction of the said individual, not caring that the man would notice the two youngsters were openly discussing him. 

“Don’t be so obvious, idiot!” Your nudge turned him back to you, “He’s the store manager. Apparently he first met his wife here and they’ve been together since then. Believe it or not, it’s been fifteen years! Isn’t that amazing? I can’t believe anyone can fall in love for such a long time!” 

“You sure are a mathematician. And nosy.”

“I’m an expert when it comes to this.”

“Should put it into good use instead. Like, what? Education?”

“Shut up.”

When you met them, you didn’t understand what held them together. You remembered thinking, This is really an odd couple! After spending some time with them and learning their story, it all made sense. He was her anchor, and she was his ultimate challenge; but more than that, they genuinely seemed to love one another. 

“Gosh, I can't imagine how I'd be like when I'm thirty…” 

It was always the future—a perfectly vague, indefinite future that terrifies you. You wished you could stay like this forever, young forever, happy forever. Your needs are simple, far more so than the needs of an adolescent or adult. Just think of a child, laughing at the least thing that catches its fancy, the image of himself or herself in a mirror, or the way a family pet behaves. 

Here you have Jaehyun, the secret source of your happiness. 

His voice broke in upon your thoughts, “Thirty-year-old unmarried woman… There're tons of them!” 

“Thirty— I don’t want to be that—” You shuddered, fighting back waves of panic at the image of an old lady alone with too many cats. “If I’m still single at thirty, you have to marry me.” 

Your abruptness caught him off guard. He didn’t speak for a moment but there was a glint of mockery in his eyes, a mischievous smirk played on the corners of his lips, as if he wasn’t taking you any less seriously for it. 

“What kind of reaction is that?” So you nudged him in the ribs, laughing all the more when he made an overly dramatic wince. 

“I want to have a Harry Potter themed wedding… A sunflower bouquet… Ooh, and you know what? I’m gonna abandon the heels, they’re going to kill me!” 

He chuckled. What a lady. 

“How about you? Tell me about your dream wedding.” 

“That would be marrying the love of my life.” Then he grinned. The indentations in his cheeks called dimples, making his smile heart-meltingly sweet. His eyes crinkled almost closed when he smiled, too. 

“You’re boring.” 

“What were you expecting? Dyeing my hair blonde or pink or purple?”

“That would be nice too.” 

She fell in love

“Jung Jaehyun!” You shouted his name and started waving frantically. He recognized your voice immediately despite the muffling effect of your scarf. And his heart dropped to his feet when you barely checked the road for cars before you went streaking across it. 

Next to him was a guy you’d never met before. He was about the same height as Jaehyun, his right ear a bit pointed like an elf’s, and with a face like that, you damn sure would’ve remembered.

Grinning broadly, “This is my classmate, Sicheng.” 

“Hi.” As he spoke Korean with his delicate Chinese accent, the words dripped from his lips like honey. 

“And she is-” 

With a warm smile and you introduced yourself, interrupting whatever Jaehyun might have added. Though you’re already telling him of information which was much not needed.

“Oh… You both are-”

“We’re besties!” 

“We’re heading to the cafe for awhile, do you want to join us?” 

“Sure!” 

Then you fell for him and discovered that when it comes to romance, intelligence takes a back seat to stupidity. Jaehyun half agreed, half disagreed. To him, you’re always the latter even before your blind infatuation.

Cupid, that little rascal, had already fired his arrow into your heart and had no intention of letting you escape this magical feeling. And that’s how you described the whole theory of ‘Love at first sight’ to Jaehyun, who’d probably known it better than you did.

Then, she had her first heartbreak. 

“We broke up…” You showed up unannounced on his doorstep crying bitterly only for him to drag you to the courtyard, away from his dormitory where you wouldn’t be seen or heard wailing like a toddler who had lost her lollipop, where you wouldn’t be causing disturbance to the neighbouring students, and where he wouldn’t be mistaken for the one that shattered your heart into fragments. 

“He said I never stopped talking, said I talked too fast. He pretended he couldn’t understand Korean and talked shit about me in his Ching-Chong language. He said I’m annoying and loud…” You paused long enough to take a breath, and felt more tears streaming down your face. “Am I... Am I really that annoying?” 

Something about your current state made him want to pick you up and tenderly wrap you in a blanket of protection. It was laughable to hear you whining about ‘the Chinese guy’ you once fell head over heels for. He was trying hard to control his smile that wanted to show on his face, and shook his head instead. “No, not at all.”

“Am I loud?” 

Though afraid to fuel your outburst, “Sometimes…” It was a fact. 

“I am not loud…” You spun around and stomped toward the bench, your lips pouted in misery and your head placed in the south right now. 

When he patted your back in a futile attempt to calm you, you moved after his hand in double time. “Stop patting me…” A few incoherent mumbles of him being the annoying one instead, then, “Jung Jaehyun! If I’m still single at thirty, you have to marry me.” 

“You always say that.” 

“You need to swear it this time.” Wanting him to stay true to his words, you held his right hand up.

“Swear, what?” 

You rolled your glossy eyes and exhaled a breath in exaggerated impatience. Was he dumb or dumb?

“If I’m still single at thirty, Jung Jaehyun will have to marry me!” 

As he repeated, “If I’m still single at thirty, Jung Jae-”

“No!” You scolded and whacked him on the arm. “Idiot…” 

An uncontrollable smile stretched across your face as you slowly relaxed. He stared at you for a moment, grinning faintly, an amused glint in his eyes. There was magic in you, he decided. 

You slumped back into the bench, your eyes staring into space, your mind numb. Unshed tears blurred your vision and you caught the warm drops that slipped past with the backs of your hands. Naturally, you reached over and rubbed them on his jacket to try to wipe away the traces of madness. He never complained, of course. 

“You know… You do have a superpower…”

“What is it?”

“The superpower of making my tears disappear…”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Talk about being a charmer. “That’s gross…”

Chill crawled down your spine and he mimicked your shiver. “You are gross.” 

Long time no see

At eleven o’clock, files for the meeting laid in front of him that he probably wouldn’t even notice his phone buzzing. He looked down at the familiar caller ID flashing on the screen. 

Without thinking twice he picked up the call. 

Immediately connected through the line, your piercing cry blasted his ear. “He said he wanted to break up with me…” Unbeknownst to yourself that it was so loud the people next to him could hear you. He smiled at his colleagues apologetically and quickly excused himself from the room. 

He found what he guessed to be an unused room, hidden away down a relatively quiet corridor. Then he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and one ankled hooked over the other. Even though he couldn’t see your face at the moment, he could paint a perfect picture of tears streaming down your face, snot hanging on your nose. 

“Okay, okay. Stop crying.” Jaehyun was laughing. You took no notice, but went on crying. The more you cried the more he laughed. Your sobs, like fulminations, were thunderous. “You’ve gotten stronger, you know that?”

“Huh? … What?”

“I said. Your howling has gotten stronger.” 

“No, it didn’t. Bastard.” 

“I’m in the middle of a meeting right now. Talk to you later.” 

Though the phone call was cut short, it made you feel much better. Instead of hogging him on, you decided to leave him a text message, saying, “Thanks for making my tears disappear.” It was that corny line again, that he couldn’t help but grin upon reading. 

“Hangout this weekend?” He replied.

Saturday of that week 

Jaehyun offered to pick you up at your place. 

“Hey.” 

It still hadn’t completely sunk in that how much you’d matured in the last few years. Medium height, you had long dark hair, which you’d forego your full bangs, soft romantic curls looked shiny and healthy, as did your skin. He could tell from the way your outfit moved along with your body that you had a woman’s figure with lots of curves. 

“It’s been awhile,” you started. 

Staring at you too much would be creepy though, awkwardly he put his hand up with a smile, he ushered you into the passenger seat and got behind the wheel of his car and drove off. 

“Broke up again?��� 

“I’m okay. It’s not the first time for me.” 

He glanced over at you a time or two, perhaps worried, but you didn’t seem to be mad or crying. As he was about to speak, your cell phone’s high-pitched ringtone crashed into the conversation, shattering the moment in an instant. 

Incoming call: Jerk

“It’s him- He’s calling! Should I pick up? Should I?” 

“If you want to-” Once again he got interrupted as he was trying to talk some sense into you.

“Hello?” “What is it?” “Didn’t we break up already? Why are you still calling me?” ”You’re freaking weird. Why are you apologizing all of a sudden?” 

During your phone conversation, Jaehyun cast a rather wary glance at you before dragging his eyes back to the road. 

“Alright… I’m not mad anymore…” 

Upon listening to whatever you’re saying, though piece by piece, it sounded like you’re back together and things would be great again. After all, it was just the typical bickering between a couple. 

With a final assurance to your not-an-‘ex’-anymore that all was well and you really weren’t mad anymore, the call ended. Just as if reading your mind, Jaehyun shook his head in disbelief while you only grin at him sheepishly. At least the rest of the hangout could be enjoyed with none of pouting and sulking, you thought. 

Another six months

Jaehyun’s phone alerted him to a text, it was frank 

I’m getting engaged soon

Will hand over the invitation card when we meet next time

Two sentences of such simple words—as something bound to be, and bound to happen. Yet it left an impact on him. He swallowed to alleviate the tightening in his throat, but the feeling followed him, peaking and then fading, falling as petals fluttering from a dying bloom. For a second prior, he was really, truly happy for you. 

Somewhere on the other side, you felt a tremendous emotional effect after clicking your phone shut following the message delivered. Something ran over your head, and maddeningly ran through again and again. What was wrong? 

In a disoriented state of mind, you began rummaging through drawers and cabinets until you found the box you wanted. You pulled it out and opened it, revealing a stack of picture squares, a two carrot ring, and finally a limited edition Hamburglar figurine that both you and Jaehyun were lucky enough to redeem. The set of eyes stared dumbly at you as you silently gazed at the little thing that managed to hold such fond memories. 

Meanwhile, Jaehyun had always had the figurine with him, laid on his workstation somewhere visible so that he continued to be reminded by it. Too, he was fixated on the pair of acrylic painted eyes in remembrance of the past. 

The day before 30th 

Jaehyun had been waiting for you inside a cafe situated a block from the deadly intersection, sipping on a glass of iced latte, though the weather was nothing sort of a torrid summer. 

Upon agreeing to the meet up, he had sorted everything out in his mind and promised himself to confront you with a good-natured congratulation on your marriage none other than a dear friend should. 

Less than ten minutes later, you appeared on the other side of the glass, waving and smiling brightly. Pitter-patter of the rain drops hitting your umbrella steadily intensify as did something else… 

“Hi,” he greeted with a dimpled grin, and then wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, a smear of coffee on his chin when you snatched up his glass and took a long swallow. Again, he said nothing about your behavior that he had gotten used to, only glaring at you with the ever same expression of This girl! She’ll be the death of me. 

“Invitation card,” he said, reminding you what all this was about in the first place. 

But so nonchalantly, you uttered, “We broke up.” 

Your eyes caught the slight lift in the right corner of his lips, Jaehyun unable to stop a small smile from making it onto his face. Simultaneously, his brows raised in surprise. 

“You didn’t cry?”

Almost proud of yourself, “No.” 

“Lies.”

“Really,” you continued with the realization of the fact that, “Liking and loving someone is different.” 

Jaehyun convinced himself, to the bone, that you’re okay. Assimilating that you’d indeed matured to understand how relationship works instead of diving in blindly on the spur of the moment by acting upon emotional states like a teenage girl in love. Emotion comes and goes, rises and falls. Certainly, love doesn’t last forever. But the foundation of love is commitment, and he wished you’d learned that as well because… 

“Do you remember what day it is tomorrow?” your calm voice interrupted his chain of thoughts, as you stared at him in anticipation. 

“Of course I do. It’s your 30th birthday tomorrow.” 

Grinning and beaming with unbridled glee, for once you bet on your bold self saying that, “So, you still remembered our promise then.” 

As if he had been waiting for years, thought he was ready, but was somewhat embarrassed and gave you a warm, shy smile. The once dying bloom came back to life, thriving, lush and flourishing. The pent up feeling on that one, great heart, burst forth in an uncontrollable, deafening shout. 

“Tell me,” you coaxed his trigger to give his word of honour. 

“If you’re still single at thirty…” Nervously, he gulped and avoiding your intent eyes. “I’ll have to marry you.”

“You must keep your promise, Jung Jaehyun.” 

[jaebaebie]

Catch me, I’m falling for you.. literally

Jeongin ~ “Then I’ll catch you.”

Y/N takes the saying “falling for your soulmate” a little too literally, 

“You okay up there?”

“Yup! I’m okay!”

You were DEFINITELY NOT okay. In fact, you were far from okay.

Earlier that day, you told yourself that you were going to have a simple and relaxing Saturday doing all the things you loved to do. You really needed the break, especially after two painful weeks of your final exams. So, with your sketchbook and your blue 2B pencil, you set off in an adventure, hoping to capture the most beautiful images in your drawing.

Keyword : hoping

Of course, nothing was ever simple with you.

Somehow, you found yourself on top of one of the oak trees in your neighbourhood. The feeling was surreal when you first found a spot on a stable branch. You had a nice view of your neighbourhood. The playground where kids roamed. The breeze was cool and fresh, unlike the hot, smokey air that polluted the grounds. It was a perfect place. Free from people. Free from technology. Simply you being lost in the art of your sketches.

You only realised that you were in an awkward position once you had finished your drawing. There were no branches stable enough for you to step on and the other larger branches were too far for your reach. Well, shit. So much for being simple.

“What it like up there?” The same boy asked, looking up at you. His fox like eyes were nearly shut, unable to withstand the brightness of the sun that was behind you.

You glanced down at him, faking a smile amidst your embarrassment, “It’s pretty nice. Nice view. Nice breeze. Nice...leaves.”

He nodded with the slight raise of his brows. He crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back to get a better look of your uncomfortable state on the branch before a cheeky chuckle escaped his lips.

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

You cleared your throat, letting out an awkward laugh. You were so sure your cheeks had turned red from embarrassment. Truly, being stuck in a tree is something only you could do,

“Me? Stuck? Pfft!”

You hoped that he would leave you alone so you could continue to try and get back onto the ground without the presence of a witness. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, a teethy grin on his face. You sighed in defeat, accepting the embarrassment that dawned upon you,

“Yes.. Yes, I am.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. You couldn’t tell if the butterflies you were feeling in your stomach was from the humiliation or because the boy below you was cute. Terribly cute.

He looked like he was glowing under the rays of the sun. Sun-kissed. His brown eyes appeared golden, nearly forming a line as he gave you a smile with his eyes.

“Try reaching for that branch,” he suggested, pointing a finger to a sturdy-looking branch several metres away from you. You already tried,, many times. But even with your furthest stretch you were still short of reach.

“I can’t.” You replied, trying to reach for the branch to prove your point. The tip of your fingers barely touched the wood. “It’s too far.”

“Try a jump. It’ll be easy to get down from there.” He said, referring to the same branch.

Your jaw dropped and you stared at him in disbelief. You were METRES above ground, and there was no way you were going to risk your legs.. especially since you were more artistic than athletic.

“It’s an easy jump. I’m sure you can make it.” He reassured you. Though, it didn’t give you much help.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll catch you.”

He smiled, beginning to position himself right below the branch you were tasked to jump to. If you weren’t too busy trying to choose between life and death, you would have had time to fangirl over the cute and cliché phrase he had just muttered.

Sighing, you carefully stood up, dropping your sketchbook to the ground so that you had both hands to hold with. You eyed the branch, internally slapping yourself for getting into this situation. You took one quick glance towards the boy below you and he opened his arms, signalling that he was ready to catch you if need be.

You took a deep breath and jumped. Only breathing out when you felt the rough wood in your tight grasp as you hung from the branch. The boy below you cheered you on and you smiled, feeling proud that you managed to successfully jump.

Just as you were beginning to pull yourself up, the sound of wood cracking filled your ears and the branch you held onto shook.

“Oh shiii—-“

The branch snapped, sending you plummeting down onto the ground. You crashed into him, hearing both of you grunt as the air was knocked out of the both of you. The impact sent him back and the two of you fell onto the grassy floor.

The landing was hard. Yet, was not as bad as you had expected it to be.

You opened your eyes. You were right on top of him. Your hands rested on his chest while his were placed on your back. His face was inches away from yours, snapping you back to reality when he groaned in pain.

You pulled away, moving off of him, “I’m so sorry!”

“Well, that was certainly a much faster way of getting down.”

He spoke breathlessly, clutching his side as his face scrunched up uncomfortably. You hoped it was nothing. That it was just the painful aches he received from your crash, just like yours. You stood up, holding a hand out for him,

“I’m Y/N.”

He tried to form a smile. Extremely different in contrast to the bright smile he was giving you when you were still up in the tree. He extended his hand out, immediately pulling it away just as his fingers brushed against yours,

“I’m Jeongin —OW”

Well, that can’t be good.

“I’m really sorry again, Jeongin.”

After nearly four hours at your local hospital, the two of you were finally out. You frowned, feeling an extreme sense of guilt as you continued to stare at Jeongin’s elevated arm sling,, caused by yours truly.

“It’s really fine, Y/N. I’m glad you’re safely down from that tree.”

Your simple day became complicated in a flash. Got stuck in a tree for an hour, fell on top of a stranger you’ve never met before, stayed in the hospital for four hours because you broke the stranger’s rib. So much for first meetings.

You dropped him off at his doorstep, thinking it was the least you could do for all the trouble you had caused him.

“You have my number, right? Just call me if you need anything. I really want to make it up to you.”

“Actually,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his good hand, “Do you want to.. maybe hang out sometimes? You know, without trees, or risky jumps, or broken ribs.”

You laughed, immediately nodding your head. Who knew you’d end up creating a friend by being stuck in a tree?

“I would love to.”

“So, where’d you find your boyfriend?”

Felix, your Australian bestfriend, asked as he brought his coffee mug to his lips. Having moved to Australia, you hadn’t seen him in nearly three years. It was nice to finally catch up. He wanted to meet your boyfriend, who was running a little late.

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

Felix chuckled, “Really? I met my girl in an online game, Y/N. I’m pretty sure I will believe you.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to control the smile that formed on your face as you recalled the love story between Felix and his girlfriend. A very modern one.

“So, what happened?” He asked.

You straightened yourself out, shrugging your shoulders,

“I fell on him.”

Felix raised his brow, throwing you a confused look, “You mean ‘for’ him..? Like love at first sight? That’s so sweet, Y/N.”

“Nope. I mean I literally fell ON him. I broke his ribs.”

You corrected him, watching his eyes widen before he shook his head, sighing in disappointment, “Only you, Y/N. Only you.”

You laughed, remembering the fact that you, too, had said the same thing to yourself when you were up in the tree.

“How long did it take you to fall for him, though?” Felix asked.

The bells to the cafe chimed, catching your attention. You looked up to see the victim to your clumsiness two years ago. He scanned the place in search for you, smiling brightly when your eyes met his.

You smiled back, feeling the same fluttery feeling whenever you saw him. You replayed your first meeting and your time at the hospital. How you guys talked endlessly while waiting for his x-ray scans. How you first held his hand because he was terrified of needles. How you easily deciphered that he was a genuinely nice and sweet person. That was all it took for you to really fall in love with jeongin. With the smile he formed still on your face, you turned to Felix, answering his question.

“Four hours.”