#also my nerves are reconnecting and now it hurts too

[katiascraft]

"Tryna feel it like a compliment? It's feeling like the opposite" | LN4

Parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: you go to a mutual friend's birthday party. You and Lando broke up a few months ago. He has a new girl and she looks nothing like you.

PART 2 -> "SUE ME"

Word count: +1,7k.

Now playing: "Opposite" by Sabrina Carpenter.

Warnings: angst. Not a native english speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

a/n: hey again :3 Dont forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you’re ready to go y/n? We can stay otherwise. No pressure my love” your best friend said lovingly to you.

The both of you were invited to a friend’s birthday party. Both of you are already dressed up and beautiful. The thing was that Lando was also going to the party too. And that was nerve breaking for you.

You haven’t seen Lando in months. Exactly 5 months since you both decided to end the 2 year relationship you’ve built. It was the worst break up you’ve ever gone through. And you’re not even over him yet. And to be honest it was more his devotion than yours. That hurt like hell.

He said he didn’t love you anymore and there was no point in pushing something that was already off. You still have nightmares of him saying that. Nothing hurt you more than that moment. Those words. His lips said it. His eyes looked straight through you - seeing you breaking as each letter he pronounced.

You didn’t think you were ready to see him again. But at the same time you needed to see him. It was sort of a test you wanted to put yourself through. A self destructive one. You knew it was gonna be touchy but you also wished you could reconnect.

You nodded to your bestie. “I wanna go. If something goes wrong I’ll pay the taxi. Don’t worry” you said confidently. Even though you wanted to throw up already because of the anxiety you were feeling. Your friend giggled a little. She gave you a confidence hug.

“You look incredible. If I were Lando I would choke with my drink and die” she joked to make you laugh. You did a little. But hearing his name shattered you inside. She took your hand que got out of her house.

The Uber drove fastly to the party. It was a busy London night but the party was going to be on the outsides of the city. Which in this case didn't help getting that fast to the party. But it was what it was. The two of you paid the Uber in cash and got out of the car.

The first people receiving you both at the party were clearly already drunk. You don’t see Lando yet and that made you think that maybe he didn’t come. Just the thought of it made you feel calmer. You followed your friend to where George and Carmen, his girlfriend, were dancing with the group of friends. even Lewis Hamilton was there. You say hi to everyone with a big smile and hugged all of them. You were starting to feel happy that Lando didn’t come. Or at least you wanted to convince yourself of that.

You didn't remember how many hours have passed since you got to the party and started drinking. You were dancing in the middle of the dance floor with an unknown guy you met on the bar. Everything was fine until you saw right behind the guy what you didn’t expect nor you didn’t want to believe you saw.

It was Lando. With another girl. Kissing. Like crazy.

You felt your heart skip a bit. Even you felt breathless. You stopped dancing in shock processing the view you had.

Your heart was shattering every second that passed by looking at him with another girl.

She looked nothing like you. Blonde shiny hair. Flawless face with big lips. You just couldn’t take it.

All the times he said you were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. He used to say that your looks didn’t compare to anyone. Yet there he was with the opposite of you. You felt so little in that room full of people. You thought the world was crumbling down while you saw him laughing with her. He even blushed nervously just how you made him feel back then.

You couldn’t move. You didn’t know how to continue your life properly. You were still so in love with him. He was the love of your life. You loved every single detail of him. You couldn’t stop dreaming of his eyes or about his laugh. You dream of being happily ever after with him. When you were together you thought you were end game. Nothing could break you. But then he stopped loving you.

He didn’t love you anymore.

Now he loves this girl.

Has he ever loved you? Did he tell the truth? Was he honest?

You woke from the trance because your friend came to rescue you with Carmen. They try to talk to you to check on you but in that instant you find Lando’s eyes looking straight to you. His smile disappeared when he saw you. And when that happened you just wanted to cry really bad. You tried to hold it together but you couldn’t. You couldn’t stare at him anymore. You couldn’t bear the pain you were feeling now.

You sprinted straight to the bathroom followed by your best friend and Carmen. You didn’t want to cause a scene but you couldn’t control your anxiety. You wanted to stop existen right there and then. You wanted to disappear. You felt ashamed.

How could you think he would love to be back with you? To the life you had together?

You were never the love of his life nor the woman of his dreams.

He looked happy, something you now know you couldn’t do.

Your friend tried to calm you down but you were just a waterfall of tears. Carmen tried to talk to you to make you feel better but you couldn’t listen. You just listen to all the negative thoughts that were eating you alive.

He stayed with you just to find someone who is the opposite to you. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was going on and on in your head making the scar grow bigger and bigger.

When you were back to reality you just hugged your best friend. You needed her. She knew all of your feelings. She has been there with you all along. Along with all of the pain you felt since Lando walked away. You have grieved your future self since then. You wanted a life with Lando. A life that now didn’t exist and would never exist.

After a few minutes you could calm yourself down. Carmen and your friend fixed your makeup and tried to make you feel better. But you just wanted to go home.

“I’ll call an Uber. I need to go home. I can’t stay” I said to my friend and she nodded.

“Of course. Don’t wanna see you like this. Everything it’s going to be okay. I’ll call it” she said softly and stroked your hair.

You all got out of the bathroom and Carmen helped to pick your stuff up. Your friend was trying to get an Uber. You were so nervous to be out again at the party and seeing him again. So Carmen suggested you go outside while your friend finds an Uber who accepts to take you home. You agreed and went outside.

Out there you found a bench available so you sat there and started scrolling your Twitter on your phone. After a while you felt someone sitting next to you. When you looked up it was Lando. You felt terrible. He smiled a little.

“Hey… you okay?” He asked quietly. He looked nervous. You two were. The tension was high between you both. You feel uncomfortable. You’ve never felt like that with him around before. That made your heart break again. You swallow hard.

“Yeah…” you said shortly. He nodded looking around avoiding your sight. You breathe heavily. He licked his lips.

“You look beautiful” he said, finally looking at you. You just stared at the ground. Was he for real? He is with another girl looking so different and he has the audacity to call me beautiful? You felt angry. You were so hurt and he was making it worse.

You looked at him with no facial expressions. “How can you say that to me when you’re dating her?” The words left your mouth without thought. But you didn’t feel bad about it. His face showed how surprised he felt by your question. “Don’t look at me like that, Lando. What’s your intention coming here and calling me beautiful when you already have another girl and she looks the opposite to me? Go fuck yourself. You really don’t care about me. You never did. You wouldn’t be here if you would” you were furious. so hurt. You needed to scream at him but controlled your tone just because the situation it’s not where that should happen. His eyes went wide.

“Y/n I don’t know what you are talking about! Yes I’m dating another girl so? You are beautiful to me I just wanted to talk to you” he said defensively. You rolled your eyes and stood up in front of him.

“I hate you. You are dead to me. What do you want to know about me? That I’m miserable since you said you didn’t love me anymore so you can be proud of yourself for breaking my heart? Or you wanted to pretend ya never happened? Go fuck yourself. My friend was right about you. You’re a fucking player. I should’ve listened to them. So I wouldn’t be this fucking broken. Hope you’re happy Lando.” You said having enough of this. You felt very offended by his attempt of you didn’t know what. When you stormed out you bumped into his new girl and spilled her drink all over her shiny silver dress.

“Sorry not sorry” you said to her not caring a fuck about her or her dress or her night. He replaced you so easily. You were blinded by hatred and pain. She told you something but you didn’t hear. You took your best friend and got her out of the party too.

“What happened?” She asked worried, finally finding an Uber who accepted to pick you both up. You sigh so stressed. Adrenaline was pushing hard on your veins.

“Lando talked to me and I just told him to fuck off” you said even surprising yourself for doing such thing.

“Oh shit” your best friend said.

——————————————————————————————

I really wanted Lando to win COTA 😭. Franco was so good though - love him!!!

Hope you liked it 💌 if you ideas my inbox is open so leave your requests!

[lycandrophile]

some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

[acidxinxwonderland]

Heyoo, Im needy for some angst, so can I get "how the glamrocks would react to accidentally hurting them"? Like for example roxy accidentally scratching them, or Monty losing control with his anger?? You don't have too tho!!! Thank you :)

This is a VERY late response to this ask, I apologize! This sounds like a very fun, yet also sad idea. Let's start, shall we? Starting least angsty to most.

TW: Choking, slight blood, shoving, head getting bonked, just overall angsty for the last two.

Glamrock Chica

During night watch you hear rummaging in the kitchen, steeling your nerves and going to check, Chica is there going through the trash.

She bawks and throws a can straight at your head

"Oh my stars?! Are you alright?"

She feels incredibly guilty, keeping you company through the shift

She constantly checks the growing bump on your forehead

The next night, you find a neatly packaged cupcake. The perfect apology

Glamrock Freddy

Freddy is having a slight malfunction in his arm. You are the one to repair him.

"Please be cautious. I feel... Strange."

You weren't cautious. You failed to reconnect a wire.

With a roar you've never heard before, the wind is knocked out of your lungs from a great force. It wasn't until you are on the ground that you realized he used his other arm to shove you away.

There is a stunned silence that falls between you too. He can't believe he did such a thing, he felt as if he wasn't in control. He hates being out of control.

"Superstar, I am so sorry." Remorse is heavy in his tone, reaching out to you with the hand that just pushed you away.

You're bewildered, out of all the animatronics, Freddy has never laid a hand on you in such an aggressive way, you shrink from his touch.

Watching you shrink away, his hand closes, simulating a sigh as he his head falls. "I don't know what came over me. I..." He trails off.

Your eyes soften, getting up from your spot on the ground. "It's alright bud, you told me to be cautious."

As you continue working on him you have to constantly reassure him that you didn't see him any differently. Although for the next few weeks whenever he brought his hand up near you, you can't stop yourself from flinching away.

He can't bear seeing you afraid of him. Although it takes you weeks to get over it, it takes him months upon months.

Roxanne Wolf

On patrol once again, you hear crying off in the distance while roaming down the large, dark corridors of the Pizzaplex. The closer you get, the easier it was to make out. It was Roxy...

You urge on until you reach the staff's bathroom, entering to see the animatronic wolf near a mirror, covering her eyes as she let out heart wrenching sounds.

"Roxy...?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her hands are quick to fall from her face, staring at you through the mirror with glowing eyes. "What are you doing here?! Get out."

There is nothing but concern on your face as you walk towards her with slow steps, as if trying to sooth a cornered animal.

Getting in her space was your worst mistake. "I said get out!" She pivots towards you, swinging her arm at and you thought it was game over.

Your eyes screwed tight, you didn't even realize. As you slowly open them, relieved to know you are alive, you feel warmth trickle down your cheek, dripping down onto your uniform.

You both now stare at each other in complete disbelief. Roxy takes a step forward, labored breath leaving her voice box, something you've never heard before.

"I..." Her voice falters, reaching up to collect some of the blood on her finger. "I didn't mean to."

She hurt her number one, it didn't matter what she was upset about before. How could she do this to you of all people?

You grab her large hand, tears welling up in your eyes as you try to push past your own feelings. "I know you didn't Roxy."

You stayed in the bathroom all night, sitting on the sinks counter while she sunk down onto her knees in front of you. You stroked her hair as she cried, her head resting on your lap. You barely understand what she says through her sobs besides murmured apologies.

Montgomery Gator

You were tasked to check on Monty during one of his many melt downs

He was in a rage due to an argument with Freddy, yelling and punching the wall

You are petrified as you go into his green room

He immediately senses your arrival, halting for a moment to stare at you with eyes filled to the brim with unbridled rage. There was simulated huffs coming from him, as if he was ready to attack any moment.

"What are you doing here brat?"

Monty sees you as a close friend, one of the only people he trusted in the Pizzaplex. He didn't want you to see him like this.

"I'm here to help."

"Help?" His fists clench at his side. "Who said I wanted any help?"

"Well... Management sent me in but I also-"

Your words are cut off from a loud growl of distress. He was hurt, hurt by the fact that you didn't come here on your own terms and angry at management to send you in when he knew he was out of control.

He punches a hole in the wall, he can feel his fingers malfunctioning. It was as painful as it could be for something made of metal. "God damn it!"

He can't hurt you, he can't hurt you, he can't. He would never forgive himself, he won't do it.

It was as if he blacks out, and once he comes to, his hand is around your neck and you're up against the wall.

You're struggling to breath, suspended in the air as you weakly claw at his forearm.

He sees that pleading look in your eyes, and never has he been more terrified.

He lets go of you, you fall to the ground on your knees, gasping out.

Monty sees those marks on your neck, he sees the damage he has done. He can't believe he would ever do such a thing, not to you. You. He...

He hates himself for it.

"Leave."

You don't think twice, managing to get up on your feet and stumbling out of the green room as you massage the forming bruise on your skin.

He sits there in the green room, quiet as quiet can be as he thinks about what he has done. He looks down at the hand, remembering feeling your pulse against his finger tips.

He has to stay away from you now. He must. The only one he could trust. Yet he lost yours, and there was no coming back from it.

[kurosstuff]

Hello, how are you doing? :)

Since requesrts are open and your writing is marvelous, I wanted to request an Azula x gn reader oneshot/fic where reader is a childhood friend who grew distant to Azula over time, but is now chosen to be her fiancé in an arranged marriage.

You don't have to write it, but I still hope you likr the idea!

Have a great day ^^

Hi! I'm doing better at least! Thank you so much♡ It means so much to me to hear you like my writing!

I'd like to apologize for not writing this sooner- was taking a break with long fics- and idk how accurate azula is still- haven't watched fhe show in so long-! Also hope I got Ozai ok? Never wrote anything with him in it before I don't think

-

I got carried away♡.. this came out as more of a reconnection type thing? Eh- maybe that's good?

Summary: read ask♡

Warnings(?): azula being azula, reader freaks out/panics alot, ozai, soft(?) Azula(she's like kinda nice sometimes); slight angst. Misunderstanding(but not really), friends to strangers to lovers(?), both reader AND azula are oblivious on how they really feel,

Azula x G/N reader: arranged

Being azulas friend had its ups and downs

Mostly downs

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't such a kid, " Azula grumbled, trying to get you to stay still. She read a trick where if someone still stays, a firebender can hit the target above the person's head without any injury. In a book for children for whatever reason. "I'd never hurt you," which is partly true - Azula wouldn't hurt you on purpose, or she would - you weren't actually sure

But like time- friendships come and go.

As you grew older, you saw how awful of a person Azula was turning out to be. How cruel of a person she truly was - how little care she had for another being - even her own brother. Seeing how she was amused and not concerned for her brother during the Agni Kai- you decided enough was enough.

This 'friendship' was becoming too dangerous too frightening. You were aware you can't just up and end the friendship you decided to distance yourself from her. Feeling confident, she wouldn't notice the change

-

You weren't sure if she ever noticed- if by chance she did. She never said or gave the indication she knew. After a couple of months, you stopped coming around to hang out.

You felt bad, but you believed this was for the best.

It's been almost a three full year when you received the letter. One you'd overlook if it weren't for the very specific golden charm closing the envelope showing it was from the royal family. Usually, being given this letter is either an honor or.. something much worse. Swallowing down your nerves, you sat down staring at the envelope for almost an eternity. Opening it carefully, you begain to read.

Everything seemed normal in the letter besides the fact you are to be summoned to the Fire Lord himself for something. Totally normal. Not like your gonna die or anything. Be shipped off to war maybe? You'd 100% are not worried.

Nope.

-

Rushing to get ready, you practically jumped in the air in Fright when you heard the knocking on the door. Your nerves were shot, and this whole thing was just making it worse.

You almost hoped to not see her there. But that'd be impossible since she lived there. Opening the door two guards stood infront of you looking at you sternly.

"Are you Y/N?" Nodding your head yes- you didn't trust your voice at the moment. They turned and gestured to follow "come. We will escort you to the Palace"

-

You don't remember anything on the way there - it was all a blur - you blame it on your nerves, but it did help distract from the imitating Palace. Until you got there. The two guards stepped out and opened the door for you - following them the huge door to the Palace opened slowly with a creek. You took a deep breath and stepped in- turning you watched as the doors closed, sealing your fate. Locking you in - A sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention

"This way," following closely, you dared not speak, not trusting your voice - and for the fact your throat was so dry a word couldn't get out when if you wished it.

Being led by two fully armed guards was almost as unnerving as the lack of decorations in the halls leading to the Fire Lords office. It was devoid of anything to show the human side of him - if there was any. The only lights shown were from flames - obviously, one's from the Fire Lord himself probably made. The only sounds you could hear was the sound of your heart beating harshly in your ears and the metal taps of the swords on the guards.

Stopping in front of huge double doors, they turned to you unblinking. "He's inside." Was all they said before they opened the doors for you. Once you stepped in they shut loudly the candles blowing out closest to you leaving you alone in the dark- minus the glow of flamed down the hall. Clenching your hands you took a deep breath and tried to relax-

The closer you got to the flames- the more the urge to run as far as you could got worse- alarm bells ringing in your head at the thought of this all going wrong. Something practically 100% possible. Even on his good days, he would be cruel. Stopping in front of the flame wall blocking you from the full view of the man himself - Fire Lord Ozai. His face covered in the shadows from how he sat, but the flames didn't hide how terrifyingly huge he looked - bowing in respect you were about to great him- before he put his hand up to stop you

"Do you know why I asked you here?"

It took you a moment to gain the courage to respond - surprisingly, he allowed you the moment - as if he thought you actually knew the reason. "No, Fire Lord Ozai. I do not. " A deep hum was all you got in return - fabric moved, glancing up, you gulped.

He stood up.

Walking towards you, the flames moved, almost glinding out of his way like a door - he stood before you. Moving his hand in a gesture, you understood to stand straight up , your eyes cast away in respectfear. Walking around you in a circle.

Like a predator hunting his prey. He stood in front of you again after a moment. "Yes. You are perfect." The odd complaint from him did nothing to ease you - seeing your confusion, he hummed."There's an arrangement. Obviously, your Father never told you." The look you held did nothing to stop him,"the arrangement was. His firstborn was to marry my firstborn." The words he spoke caused a mixed sense of emotions in you- confusion, anxiousness. And fear from what was your next thought.

His firstborn was banished.

"But. Giving the events that unfolded with my firstborn. The agreement changed a bit. You will marry my second born."

Clicks of footsteps echoed behind you. You didn't dare look behind you.

"You are to marry my daughter- Azula. Whom I was made aware you were friends of sorts." Turning away, he walked back to his throne. "You will be Wed in two months."

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, turning around, and froze. Azula stood arms crossed, staring at you - almost glaring from how narrowed her eyes were. The same smug smirk from years ago is still present. She almost didn't seem to change much but all the more terrifying. Even if deep down you were happy to see her

"Well. Hello Y/N, " she spoke, voice coming out in a condescending purr. "It seems like we have some catching up to do." Turning, she gestured you to follow her

-

You followed Azula to her room. You've been in it once before, but that was years ago. Before you felt comfortable - now you felt uneasy - tense about the whole thing. Standing far away from the bed but close enough, you looked around the room - it looks the same as it did, but with some added things such as plants and a new dresser replacing the old silver one she used to own.

Azula sat on her bed, pulling some books out to go through every once in a while, looking up at you - face unreadable. Shows how much has changed before you could tell what she was thinking even if she wouldn't show it - now it's like she's a new person - and in a way, she is.

"What's the matter with you?" Azula asked(more like demanded), looking over at her- Azula seemingly growing frustrated at the books in her hands- what about you weren't sure. Turning towards you with eyebrow raised an annoyed look on her face. You haven't answered her yet

"Oh- uh, nothing. Why?" Humming she placed the book down on her lap- gesturing towards the bed. Getting the message you sat down on the edge. She sat silent for a moment before sighing.

"Look." She started after a while. She took a second to think her response through - it was an odd sight. Azula glanced at you- raising an eyebrow at the unnerved state you were in. Standing up, she walked to her counter. "I get it. The situation we're in is weird. " Pulling some object out, she turned to face you. Handing it to you. It looked like a squishy turtle duck

Seeing the confusion on your face when you took it, she sighed, facing away from you once the look of realization hit you. "You always needed something to hold to calm down when you got like this." She spoke, sitting down beside you. Turning it around the squish toy was the same one you were given- and forgot about years ago. When you and Azula were close. The same accidental burn mark on the shell of the toy. You still remember how she gave it too you

-

Sitting on the bench, you held your hurt, burning hand crying. Clutching them close - you knew you shouldn't have let Azula talk you into doing such a trick.

A dangerous trick - yet she did. And here you sat hurt.

And alone.

Hurried footsteps came from behind you - you knew those footsteps. Sitting upright, you used your uninjured hand to whip the tears away harshly. You didn't want to give Azula another reason to tease you.

"There you are" she spoke. Sitting next to you she held something behind her. Face slightly flushed from either embarrassment or what you didn't know- nor gave it much thought once a toy was shoved in your face "here- I. I heard from the towns people that a thing called a 'squishy' helps calm people down. Brings comfort or whatever. So take it. It's yours" Holding it in your hand you smiled tearfully. Azula looked like she practically softened before she turned to your hand- huffing she gestured for it

"we need to clean this."

-

The memory brought a happy smile to your face. Looking up, you saw the quick look of relief on Azulas face before it hardened. "..you kept it?" A shrug was all you got in response for a moment

"Of course I did." Azula mumbled before clearing her throat, brushing you off without a word. Turning away from you - Azula was silent as you messed with the squishy in your hand. Turning towards you, she opened her mouth before shutting it. This caused to pause - Azula never hesitates, nor does she stop until she gets what she wants. Somethings wrong

Before you could ask, a knock came at the door. After giving permission, a maid came in bowing, "My lady, your training room is ready for you." A wave of her hand and the maid ran off hurriedly down the hall.

"You're coming with me." Azula spoke standing. She walked to the door, glancing back at you - an eyebrow arched. Obviously she was waiting for you to follow. Trying to swallow your nerves you jumped up putting the squish on the bed before turning to follow Azula.

The walk was quiet

-

Entering the training room a couple test dummies stood around the room. Arms stretched out like you used to see from the target practice dummies you'd come acrossed before.

"Sit there- I'll be back" Azula pointed towards some benches a bit far off- you sighed- it's better to just let her do what she says half the time anyways.

After you sat on the bench, Azula moved to the changing room. Her mind jumbled. Scattered around, and she couldn't think of a good reason as to why. Pacing back and forth, she clenched her jaw angrily

Azula was panicking on the inside - ever since she found out it was you, she was to marry. Even worse when she saw you. Would she be a horrible wife? Be like her father and treat her spouse horribly to the point of another abandonment? No. She won't be like him. Azula refuses to treat the one she's bound to in such a way - even Azula isn't that cruel of a person. She's not soft - she's not kind either. She knows the reason why you left her even if you didn't say.

It was her fault

Learning the first choice of who you were originally gonna be married to didn't help her feel good at all. Did you know you were gonna marry her brother? That you left cause of that? The selfish, selfish side of Azula prayed that was the real reason you left. She knows it's not, but it's just easier to think

She wants to prove that she's the best choice - the only choice. Of course, the arranged part of the marriage didn't make her feel happy made her feel horrible. If you were to marry her, she'd want it to be of your free will - not be forced.

Azula stopped pacing. What? Why is that the thing she's focused on. Blinking she crossed her arms. Of course the thought of someone being forced to marry her set an uneasy feeling inside her, but. The thought of marrying you wasn't bad at all-

Why is that? It makes no sense why Azula was and still is hung up on a loss of a friend. The loss of you since the beginning was horrible. It made her sick- she'd admit it only to herself now that she missed you- but.. why does she feel relief from the thought of marrying you? Was it cause she knew you?

Shaking her head she quickly got dressed

-

Fiddling with your thumbs, you glanced around the room - thankfully, in a more relaxed mood. Your heart no longer felt like leaping out of your chest. The whole area was spotless- which wasn't a surpise given how certain people would react to a messy training hall. You shuddered at the memory.

Looking over when the door opened, your face flushed a bit. Azula was already looking your way when she came out. Without a word, she stepped up and moved the dummies a bit before she begins she started to stretch. Standing straight she smirked back at you.

"Keep those eyes on me," she begain her training. Hitting the dummies far back with a punch in the air- blue flames came out in a flicker illuminating her air and passing some of the training dummies closest- but surprisingly never touching them. Only hitting her target

It wasn't much of a surpise on how good of a fighter Azula was- but you can't help but you can't help but still be surprised at how well she can control her flames. You've seen fire benders fight and train before, this wasn't the first- but it was the first seeing just how different she was to the others. If anyone else tried this. Tried to hit the target from the farthest to the front. 100% the flames passing the others would be hit and burned, but for Azula- it was like it never touched.

The more she hit and kicked, the more in awe you were in watching. If anything, it looked like a dance you'd see from how fluent and confident Azula moved to attack.

As quick as she began, the training ended. Azula walked towards you, and she didn't even break a sweat- even her hair was kept in place even though she was hitting and kicking. Standing infront of you she crossed her arms almost smirking. "Well?" She spoke with an eyebrow raised

"You were perfect! How did you even do that?"

"I'm a natural. No trouble at all" Azula spoke smugly- she wasn't gonna tell you how long it took for her to get the attack right when she was younger. Everything needs to be perfect. Azula hummed, interrupting your praise for a moment. "..We added more flowers to the garden. I'll show you" she spoke almost oddly. The praise you gave her felt weird- but it filled her ego. Of course it was perfect.

This was Azula

Nothing less than perfect no matter what.

She turned to leave to redress ignoring your call.

"We'll go once I come back"

-

The garden wasn't totally different from how it was since the last time you saw it. The tree in the middle has grown much older but still hanging strong - a knew bench was placed near it, giving the tree and pond underneath. The sun hitting perfectly in-between the leafs and from the rocks below made it have almost a glow to it.

Looking around, the bushes nearby were cut in the specific square way the Fire Lord himself seemed to prefer rather than the rounded ones. Stopping once you heard quaking noises. A smile came over your face, walking to the center pond. You knelt down, looking at the turtle ducks

"Here. You can feed them if you'd like" Azula spoke, holding a small bag of bread out. Thanking her you took it and started to break them up. Azula watched her eyes softening at the sight.

Azula couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with her. Was it her nerves? Why does this scene in front of her make her feel off? The way you're kneeling in front of the turtle ducks the way you gently fed them. The way the lowering sub hits your face. Blinking, she scowled, looking away from you. Looking out to the pond on the other side

"Do you want to feed one, Azula?" Not getting a response, you looked over, frowning at what you saw.

Azula looked almost troubled by something. "Azula?" Calling out to her gave no help. It was like she was here but not here at the moment. Calling out to her again in a softer tone to not startle her- she blinked at you slowly before registering where she was. Standing up, you watched her closely

"Azula. Are you ok?"

Azula just nodded slowly. A moment passes before she bits her tongue. A question on the tip of her tongue. She doesn't want to ask. But she has to. She needs to if she really wants to not be like her father. Not in this way at least

"Are we still friends?" Azula asked before she could stop. "Like I know this is an arrangement but. Are we?"

You didn't responded right away. Just stood there thinking. The way she looked at you- you couldn't tell what she was thinking. It was like looking at a new person. Slowly nodding your head "yes we are." You bit your lip in thought "can we have a do over? From how things ended-" it was a selfish thing to ask. To pretend you didn't just disappear from her life.

Azula nodded her head

"Then.. we can start over?" You said, looking away from Azula for a moment - turning back to look at her - her gaze was on the pond in front of you both.

"Don't see why not. We're not getting married for a couple of months, so we have time"

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Coming Home | Sebastian Sallow x OC #22

After the emotional chaos of the last few chapters, I thought these two could use a softer moment. Let’s be honest, we all know evie will forgive seb because she's a hopeless simp—but don’t worry, he's still got some work left to do.

ALSO this is the last 100% complete chapter in my back log, so updates may be a lil slower moving forward while I revise/edit remaining chapters (sorryy!)💕

Summary: Evangeline visits Feldcroft after an uneasy end to term, reconnecting with Sebastian as he tries to rebuild her trust. Sebastian wrestles with his unspoken love for her while striving to prove he’s worthy of her faith.

Words: TBD I’m posting this from my phone so idk

Tags: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Unspoken Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Reconciliation, Emotional Vulnerability, Domestic Fluff, Stargazing, Hand-Holding, Soft Confessions, Emotional Tension

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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The summer sun hung low in the sky, painting Feldcroft in golden hues as Sebastian paced the small square in the center of town. The Floo station stood a few feet away, its modest hearth crackling faintly as villagers went about their day, occasionally sparing him a curious glance. He was sure he looked ridiculous—too restless to stand still, his hands alternating between raking through his hair and stuffing themselves into his pockets. But he didn’t care.

It had been nearly two months since he’d seen her.

Their last real conversation had been at the Black Lake in early June, a raw, jagged thing where every word had felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss. They had barely spoken in the weeks that followed, the looming pressure of exams offering an easy excuse to avoid talking about anything of substance. And when summer vacation finally began, she’d been gone before he could even process it—off to stay with their friends, hopping from one house to the next in an attempt to avoid the Fallowmere orphanage.

Since then, Sebastian had spent the summer working tirelessly at the apothecary in Upper Hogsfield, the steady rhythm of brewing potions and stocking shelves providing a temporary reprieve from his restless mind. He tried to convince himself that the tentative bridge he and Evangeline built by the lake hadn’t collapsed under the weight of his guilt, and yet the memory of her tears haunted him. Far too many sleepless nights were spent staring at his bedroom ceiling, wondering if she regretted giving him even a sliver of her trust back.

But now she was here. Or she would be.

Sebastian’s gaze flicked to the Floo again, his heart thrumming with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. He could hardly believe he'd invited her; it wasn’t like they’d discussed it. But Sebastian had been reading over Ominis's shoulder during his last visit, and when she’d mentioned, almost offhandedly in her letter, that she hadn’t settled on where to go next, the words had tumbled out of Sebastian's mouth before he could stop them. Feldcroft. Tell her to come to Feldcroft.

And to his surprise—his absolute relief—she’d agreed.

He paused his pacing, glancing up as a flicker of green flames lit the hearth. A knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach, his hands clenching at his sides as he waited. When the fire roared to life and a figure stepped out, small trunk in hand, his breath caught.

She was here.

“Evie,” he said, his voice soft but steady, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She glanced up, her hazel eyes locking with his, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. There was a flicker of something unreadable in her expression—hesitation, maybe—but then her lips curved into a tentative smile.

“Hello, Sebastian.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to send a flood of relief coursing through him. He stepped forward, reaching for her trunk. “Let me—”

“I’ve got it,” she said quickly, gripping the handle tighter. Her voice was light, but he caught the faint edge of discomfort in it. She wasn’t ready for too much, not yet.

He nodded, taking a small step back to give her space. “Right. Well, welcome to Feldcroft. Again.” He winced at his own awkwardness, raking a hand through his hair. “I mean, you know the place already, but—”

She let out a quiet laugh, cutting off his rambling. “Thanks, Sebastian,” she said, her voice softer now, though the wariness hadn’t entirely left her eyes.

He smiled sheepishly, dropping his hand from his hair as a moment of silence stretched between them. Sebastian cleared his throat and gestured toward the path leading out of the square. “Right. Well, let’s get you settled.”

Evangeline adjusted her grip on the trunk and fell into step beside him. The village bustled around them in its unassuming way—shopkeepers chatting, children darting between carts, the occasional sheep wandering too close to the cobblestones before being herded back to the fields.

He stole a glance at her as they walked, her gaze drifting over the thatched roofs and blooming wildflowers that lined the path. Her expression was calm, though there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or apprehension. He wasn’t sure.

“Still looks the same,” she said finally, her voice breaking the silence. “But it feels... different without the snow.”

Sebastian smiled faintly. “Yeah, it’s a tad busier in the summer. Kids running though the hills, and the fields are full of sheep instead of frost. A lot less tripping over snowdrifts too.”

Evangeline chuckled softly, the sound tugging at something deep in his chest. “That’s a shame. I remember you taking a rather spectacular tumble the last time we walked this way.”

His lips twitched in a grin. “Spectacular? I slipped once.”

“Twice,” she corrected with a small, teasing smile. “And you nearly took me down with you the second time.”

“Nearly,” he said, tilting his head as if considering. “But I didn’t, did I? I’d call that chivalry.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile lingered on her face, softening her features in a way that made his heart clench. For a moment, the guarded edge she’d carried since stepping out of the Floo seemed to ease, and he found himself clinging to the sight, committing it to memory.

The path curved gently, and Sebastian’s cottage came into view against the backdrop of rolling hills. Suddenly, he felt his stomach twist as they neared, his eyes darting to every imperfection he hadn’t noticed—or had been ignoring—until this very moment.

The wildflowers around the front had grown unruly, spilling over the edges of the narrow stone path. A shutter hung slightly askew, the paint beginning to peel at the edges. And though he’d meant to fix the squeaky hinge on the front gate, it still creaked in protest as he pushed it open.

Evangeline’s gaze swept over the cottage, and Sebastian braced himself, feeling his apprehension build. He wanted her to see it as she had at Christmas—warm, inviting, a reflection of how much effort he’d put in to make it a home. But this wasn’t Christmas. This was summer, and everything felt too bright, too exposed.

“It’s a mess,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I meant to, uh… tidy up the garden. And fix the shutters. And—”

“Sebastian,” she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. He turned to look at her, finding her hazel eyes fixed on the cottage, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, to his surprise, a small, genuine smile curved her lips. “It’s lovely.”

“Lovely?” he echoed, skepticism laced in his tone. He glanced at the wildflowers falling across the path as if to make sure they were still there. “You don’t have to be nice. I know it’s not—”

“I mean it,” she said, her smile widening slightly. “It looks…” She paused, her gaze softening as it swept over the uneven stones, the slightly crooked gate, and the wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. “Cozy."

She wasn’t lying; Sebastian could tell by the way her smile reached her eyes. Slowly, he let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re too kind.”

“I’m honest,” she replied lightly, brushing past him to open the front door.

When Evangeline stepped inside, her gaze swept over the familiar room, taking in every detail—the worn armchair by the hearth, the mismatched cushions, and the precariously stacked books that seemed to defy gravity. It all looked exactly as it had during her last visit.

Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched her. She stood still, her fingers brushing absently over the back of the armchair, her gaze soft but distant. She let out a quiet, wistful sigh, and he realized she wasn’t just looking at the cottage—she was stepping back into a memory.

He wondered if her memories of this place felt anything like his. To him, having her back here was like slipping on a favorite jumper, something warm and comforting, worn just enough to feel like home. The time they’d spent together over Christmas had become a refuge in his mind, a place he returned to when the present felt too sharp, too uncertain. Those days had been simple and light, untouched by the jagged edges of regret and guilt.

Was it the same for her? Did she hold those moments as close as he did?

The question gnawed at him, and before he could stop himself—before he could second-guess the words—they slipped out, soft and unguarded.

“I missed you.”

The sound of his own voice startled him, and he saw her freeze, her fingers stilling against the armchair. For a heartbeat, the room felt impossibly still, the weight of his confession hanging in the air like something fragile and unspoken.

Sebastian opened his mouth, ready to backtrack, to brush it off as nothing more than a casual remark. But then Evangeline turned to look at him, her eyes locking onto his. Her gaze was steady, searching, as though she could see straight through the mask he so often wore, straight to the raw truth beneath.

Slowly, she let out a breath, the tension in her shoulders easing as her lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

“Me too,” she admitted quietly.

Sebastian’s chest tightened, the quiet honesty of her words hitting him like a spell cast point-blank. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—if he’d expected anything at all—but hearing her say it, admitting she’d felt the same ache he had, was more than he deserved. And yet, it made the small ember of hope in his chest burn just a little brighter.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the quiet between them filling with all the things they couldn’t quite say. Then Sebastian pushed off the doorframe, clearing his throat. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes. To coming here, I mean.”

She tilted her head, studying him with that same perceptive gaze. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He let out a dry laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Because of me. Because of everything I—” He stopped, shaking his head as his throat tightened. “You’d have every reason not to.”

Evangeline looked at him for a long moment before letting out a soft laugh, “If I didn’t want to be here, Sebastian,” she said gently, “I wouldn’t have come.”

Her words settled over him like a balm, soothing the jagged edges of his nerves. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gestured toward the narrow hallway. “I, uh, put clean sheets on your bed and cleared some room in the wardrobe for you."

Evangeline’s lips curved faintly, and she hefted her trunk with a small nod. “Thank you.”

Sebastian stepped aside, letting her pass as she moved down the narrow hallway. He followed a few paces behind, his hands sliding into his pockets as he watched her take in her surroundings.

When Evangeline stepped into the room, she paused, her hazel eyes sweeping over the space. It was small but inviting, the soft light from the evening sun filtering through the lacy curtains that fluttered faintly in the breeze. Her gaze settled on the bedside table, where a simple vase of wildflowers—delicate purples and whites—stood quietly against the rustic wooden surface.

She approached it, setting her trunk at the foot of the bed as her fingers brushed one of the petals. “You’ve been busy,” she murmured, her voice soft.

Sebastian lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he studied her reaction. “Figured it needed a bit of color,” he said, his shrug casual, though there was a hint of nerves in his tone. “Didn’t want you thinking I’ve forgotten how to be a decent host.”

Evangeline’s lips quirked into a small smile, her fingers still lightly tracing the petals. “Well,” she said, her voice adopting a teasing edge as she glanced at him over her shoulder, “back at Leander’s party, you did say you’d be getting me flowers. You know… to make me ‘fall in love with you.’”

Sebastian froze. For a moment, he stood perfectly still, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. The tips of his ears flushed a faint pink, and he cleared his throat, the ghost of a laugh escaping him as he leaned more heavily against the doorframe, crossing his arms as if to steady himself.

“Well,” he drawled, recovering quickly, his grin slow and slightly crooked, “I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

Evangeline turned fully to face him, her smile widening as she chuckled softly. “You certainly took your time.”

“Had to make sure they were perfect,” he shot back smoothly, gesturing toward the vase with a slight tilt of his head. “Only the best for you.”

There was a playful lilt to his voice, but his gaze lingered on her a fraction longer than it should have, the teasing replaced by something softer.

If Evangeline caught it, she didn't let on. Instead, she stepped closer to the vase, her smile fading into something quieter, more sincere. “They are perfect,” she said, her voice softer now. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

His smirk faltered, expression shifting into something gentler. For a moment, he just watched her, the gratitude in her voice settling somewhere deep in his chest. “You’re welcome,” he said.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was weighted, heavy with the things they hadn’t yet said. Sebastian shifted his stance, clearing his throat as he straightened. “Right, well... I’ll let you settle in. Dinner’s in a bit. Thought we could eat outside—it’s a nice evening.”

“That sounds lovely,” Evangeline replied, turning back to her trunk and busying herself with unpacking. “I’ll be out soon.”

Sebastian closed the door to her room quietly, leaning against the wall of the hallway for a moment as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. She was here. Not just a fleeting letter or a hesitant conversation in passing, but here, in his home again.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to focus. Don’t mess this up, Sallow. The voice in his head wasn’t Ominis’s this time, but his own, sharp and unrelenting. She had every reason not to trust him, to keep him at arm’s length, and yet she’d chosen to come. That was something, wasn’t it?

Pushing off the wall, he headed for the kitchen, his thoughts spiraling as he pulled ingredients from the cupboards. He had planned ahead—more than he cared to admit—but now it all felt inadequate. The chicken he’d marinated earlier, the garden vegetables he’d picked that morning, the loaf of bread from the village baker—it was simple, too simple, wasn’t it?

He set the cutting board on the counter with more force than necessary, cursing under his breath. This isn’t a 5 star wizarding restaurant, you idiot. You don’t have to make it perfect. But the thought didn’t ease the tight knot in his chest.

Cooking had always been a way to keep his hands busy, his mind focused. When Anne had still been here, it had been his way of helping, of trying to make things easier for her when their lives had been anything but. She used to tease him for his attempts to recreate their mum’s recipes, but she’d always smiled when he succeeded. And when she didn’t smile... well, those nights had taught him to get better.

His hands moved automatically, peeling, slicing, seasoning. The rhythm of it settled something in him, though the nervous energy lingered just beneath the surface. Evangeline didn’t know this side of him, yet. She’d seen his recklessness, his impulsiveness, his sharp edges—but not this. This part of him was quieter, steadier. Softer, maybe.

Sebastian shook his head, letting out a dry laugh as he tossed the vegetables into a pan. Softer. That wasn’t the word he wanted her to associate with him. He wanted her to see him as strong, dependable, someone who could protect her. Someone she could trust again.

But the truth was, he wasn’t sure how she saw him now.

His gaze flicked to the door, half-expecting her to wander in. He could imagine her leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with that curious tilt of her head. She’d probably laugh at the idea of him cooking—Sebastian Sallow, who could duel circles around anyone in their year, standing over a pan of roasted vegetables.

The thought brought a faint smile to his lips, though it faded quickly as doubt crept back in. What if tonight wasn’t enough? What if she was only here because she didn’t want to say no? What if she was already counting the days until she left again?

Sebastian set the knife down with a frustrated sigh, gripping the edge of the counter as his head dropped forward. Stop overthinking it. He’d promised her he’d prove himself, and that’s exactly what he was going to do—one small moment at a time, if that’s what it took.

The chicken came out of the oven, the bread onto a board, the vegetables plated with precision that bordered on obsessive. He worked in silence, letting the familiar motions ground him, until the table outside was set, the food arranged neatly in the center.

He stood back for a moment, wiping his hands on his trousers as he surveyed his work. The whole scene was… inviting. Not perfect, but good enough. He hoped.

Sebastian turned toward the cottage just as he heard the soft creak of the door opening. His heart skipped when he saw Evangeline step out. She had changed into something more comfortable—a light, flowy dress that he’d never seen her wear before. The fabric moved softly with the evening breeze, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring.

She was still the Evie he’d known for years—familiar in every way that mattered—but in the two months they’d been apart, it was as if something had shifted. He couldn’t put it into words—wasn’t even sure if he wanted to try—but the girl he’d known, the one he’d teased and laughed with and leaned on, had somehow become a woman. A breathtakingly beautiful one.

His gaze trailed over her full figure, taking in the way the dress skimmed her plush hips and accentuated her soft shape. Her shoulders, bare beneath the thin straps, caught the last light of the sun, and he couldn’t help but notice the delicate curve of her collarbone, the way it led to her neckline.

There was a quiet maturity in the way she carried herself now, an unspoken grace that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t just her body—though Merlin knew his eyes kept flickering to her hips and her waist and her chest—it was everything about her. She was radiant.

Sebastian’s mouth went dry when she glanced at him, her hazel eyes soft and curious. She caught him staring, and for a split second, he thought about looking away, but he couldn’t. The way she tilted her head, the faint smile that played at her lips—it was like she was seeing straight through him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Sebastian blinked, his heart stuttering as he scrambled for something to say. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look anywhere but at her. “Just… making sure everything’s ready.”

She smiled, stepping closer to the table and glancing at the spread he’d laid out. “This looks incredible,” she said, her fingers brushing the edge of the table as she looked back at him. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”

Sebastian tried to play it off, shrugging as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I mean, I didn't want you to think I invited you here just to starve you."

Evangeline let out a soft laugh, the sound like a balm to Sebastian’s nerves. “Well, I appreciate it. It smells amazing,” she said, her gaze lingering on the table before flicking back to him. “I think I might actually be impressed, Sebastian.”

“Careful,” he teased, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t go raising your expectations too high. I’m not trying to set a precedent here.”

She smirked, “I think it’s a little late for that. Between this and the flowers, you might actually convince me you’re good at this whole hosting thing.”

Sebastian’s grin faltered slightly as her words settled over him. He wanted her to feel welcome, to feel cared for, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her tone that reminded him just how much had changed between them. He didn’t want this to feel like some elaborate performance to win her back—he wanted it to feel real. Genuine. Like it had always been.

“Well, don’t go telling anyone,” he said lightly, “Can’t have the word getting out that I’ve gone soft.”

Evangeline chuckled again as she sat down, smoothing her dress over her lap. Her gaze swept over the spread, her hazel eyes softening as she took it all in. “This... is really wonderful,” she said quietly.

Sebastian’s chest tightened at her words, the sincerity in her voice catching him off guard. He forced himself to sit down across from her, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his napkin as he tried to find something to say.

She took her first bite, her eyes widening slightly as the flavors hit her tongue. “Okay, I take it back,” she said, her voice tinged with playful awe. “This is more than impressive. This is… really good.”

Sebastian relaxed a little, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Years of practice,” he admitted. “Anne had her favorites, and I got tired of hearing her complain when I burned something. Figured I’d better learn to do it properly.”

Evangeline’s smile softened, a flicker of something warmer passing through her eyes. “That’s… sweet,” she said, her voice quieter now. "Guess you're still full of surprises."

Sebastian felt his grin waver for a moment, her words hitting a place in his chest that made his heart ache and swell all at once. Surprises. He wasn’t sure if she meant it as a compliment or an observation, but the way she said it—soft, almost thoughtful—made him want to be better, to live up to whatever faint glimmer of hope she still saw in him.

“Well,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the edge of the table, “stick around, and I might just have a few more up my sleeve.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the clinking of cutlery and the distant hum of crickets filling the air. The sun sank lower on the horizon, casting the garden in a dusky orange glow, and Sebastian found himself stealing glances at her as they ate. She looked relaxed, her shoulders no longer tight with unease, and it made him wonder if, maybe, he’d done something right for once.

“You must miss her,” Evangeline said suddenly, breaking the quiet. Her voice was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t sure she should have said it.

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t need to ask who she meant. His throat tightened, and he set his fork down slowly, his gaze dropping to his plate. “Every day,” he admitted, his voice low.

Evangeline’s expression softened, her hand stilling where it had been tracing the rim of her glass. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head as he looked back at her. “It’s fine. Really. I… I like talking about her. Sometimes I think it’s the only way to keep her close, you know?”

She nodded, her hazel eyes steady on his, and for a moment, he thought she might say something more. Instead, she reached for her glass, taking a small sip before setting it down again.

“You know,” Sebastian said after a moment, his tone lighter now, “she used to say I was hopeless. Always burning things or forgetting ingredients.” He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She had this way of looking at me like I was the world’s biggest idiot, but then she’d sit there and eat every bite anyway.”

Evangeline smiled, a quiet laugh escaping her. “That sounds about right,” she said, her voice soft and warm. Then she paused, her expression turning thoughtful as she toyed with the edge of her napkin.

“In her last letter,” she began carefully, her gaze flicking up to meet his, “She said her pain trials at St. Mungo’s are going really well.”

Sebastian froze, his fork hovering mid-air as her words sank in. He placed it down slowly, his fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. “She did?” he asked, his voice quiet but threaded with cautious hope.

Evangeline nodded, her hazel eyes watching him closely. “She... she wrote that the pain isn’t as constant as it used to be. She’s sleeping better. Even managing some light activities without too much discomfort.”

Sebastian let out a shaky breath as the knot in his chest began to loosen. He pressed a hand to his forehead, his mind racing. “That’s… that’s amazing,” he murmured, his voice almost disbelieving.

Evangeline hesitated before speaking again, her voice gentler this time. “She mentioned you, too.”

Sebastian’s head shot up, his brown eyes widening. “She did?”

“She said…” Evangeline paused, choosing her words carefully. “She said she misses you. She wanted me to tell you."

Sebastian froze, his breath catching in his throat. The words hung in the air, heavy and disarming, as if they didn’t belong to the reality he’d been living in for the past year. His brown eyes searched Evangeline’s face, desperate to confirm she wasn’t just saying it to make him feel better.

“She… she really said that?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Evangeline nodded, her expression steady but soft, as though she knew how much weight her words carried. “She did. It wasn’t easy for her to admit, I think. But it was there, in her letter—clear as day. I'll let you read it when we're back inside."

Sebastian sat back in his chair, staring at Evangeline as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. His fingers gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, as the words swirled in his mind. She misses you. He couldn’t reconcile it, not with everything that had happened, not with the way he’d all but destroyed the connection he and Anne once had.

“You’d really let me read it?” he asked finally, his voice quiet, almost cautious. His gaze searched hers for any sign of hesitation, but Evangeline’s expression was unwavering.

She nodded. “Of course. I know how much she means to you, Sebastian.”

The tightness in his chest shifted, replaced by something fragile and warm, like a thread of hope pulling taut. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to steady his voice. “I—thank you. Really.”

Evangeline offered him a small smile, her fingers idly smoothing the edge of the napkin in her lap. “I think she’s starting to come around,” she said gently. “She’s still angry, but that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten you. And… she wants you to know that.”

Sebastian let out a long as his gaze wandered upward, settling on the faint stars beginning to peek through the dusky sky. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the faint flicker of hope Evangeline’s words had ignited. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to steady him.

The silence lingered, warm and comfortable, until he glanced back at her. Evie's expression was thoughtful as she toyed with the edge of her napkin, her hazel eyes catching the fading light of the evening. He felt a smile tug at his lips before he realized it.

“So,” he said, breaking the quiet, “you’ve been all over this summer. Hopping from one friend’s house to another. What’s it like, being so popular?”

Evangeline’s head tilted, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Popular? Hardly,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “It was more… opportunistic.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I just didn’t want to go back to Fallowmere, and everyone kept offering. Natty, Nellie, even Imelda."

“Imelda?” Sebastian said, his brows shooting up. “You stayed with Reyes? Let me guess, she made you listen to endless recaps of her Quidditch matches?”

“Endless,” Evangeline confirmed with a grin.

Sebastian snorted, shaking his head. “You’re lucky she didn’t make you do drills in her garden.”

“She tried,” Evangeline admitted, her smile widening. “But no, it was good staying with her. Busy, loud… exactly what I needed after everything.”

Sebastian’s smile softened as he watched her, his gaze lingering. “And what about Natty?” he asked. “I imagine staying with her was more… structured.”

E Evangeline nodded, her expression softening as a faraway look crept into her eyes. “It was. Her mum was very welcoming, though. And Natty—she’s just so good at making you feel at home. We spent a lot of time walking and talking. She’s… wise in ways I’ll never be.”

Sebastian hummed absently, though his stomach churned at the memory of Natsai Onai and the “conversation” they’d had just before the end of last term. His mind wandered briefly to the library, where she’d found him loitering behind a towering shelf, clearly trying to avoid her.

She hadn’t given him a choice.

With a startling amount of strength for her petite frame, Natty had grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out to the courtyard before he could even protest. Her calm exterior had been more terrifying than if she’d been shouting. The tension in her jaw, the barely contained fire in her eyes—Sebastian had faced curses and duels, but nothing had prepared him for that.

She hadn’t raised her voice once.

Instead, she’d quietly and methodically eviscerated him, her words hitting harder than any spell could have. Her disappointment in him, her anger at his behavior at Leander’s party—particularly how it had hurt Evangeline—was laid bare in brutal clarity.

“You are supposed to be her friend, Sebastian,” she’d said, her voice like ice. “Instead, you chose to act selfishly, carelessly, and worse—publicly humiliate her.”

By the end of it, he’d felt small, like a first-year caught cheating in Charms. Natty hadn’t demanded an apology; she’d merely stared him down until he’d stammered out something resembling contrition. Even now, the memory made him want to crawl under a rock.

Sebastian shook the thought off and forced himself to meet Evangeline’s gaze again. “Yeah, Natty’s… definitely wise,” he muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt as if he could still feel her iron grip. He quickly changed the subject, “And what about Nellie? Please tell me you didn’t let her rope you into one of her… experiments.”

Evangeline groaned, rolling her eyes. “She tried. Merlin, did she try. Something about levitating candles for hours so she could prove they lasted longer than regular ones.”

Sebastian laughed again, shaking his head. “Classic Nellie.”

“She’s brilliant,” Evangeline admitted, her tone warm. “A little chaotic, but brilliant. It was fun, though. Her family is so… big and warm. A little overwhelming at times, but in a good way.”

“And now you’re here,” Sebastian said, his tone quieter now. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as he met her gaze. “What’s that like?”

Evangeline’s hazel eyes flickered with something he couldn’t quite name. “It’s…” she hesitated, her gaze drifting past him for a moment as if she were searching for the right words. Then, finally, she drew a quiet breath and looked back at him. "It's like coming home."

Sebastian’s breath caught at her words, his chest tightening in a way that was both unexpected and painfully familiar. Home. The word hung in the air between them, impossibly heavy and impossibly soft, carrying more weight than she probably realized. Or maybe she did. Maybe that was why she’d hesitated before saying it.

Evangeline’s hazel eyes met his, steady but tinged with something vulnerable, as if she wasn’t sure how he would respond. She had never admitted something like this before—not to him, not to anyone. She’d grown up in a place that was safe at best and cold at worst, the kind of place that housed you but never embraced you. The kind of place that made you wonder if home was a real thing, or just something other people got to have.

And now she was sitting here, across from him, calling this—his home—hers, too.

Sebastian leaned back slightly, his forearms slipping from the edge of the table as he let the words sink in. The crackle of crickets in the garden and the faint rustle of the breeze filled the quiet, but he barely noticed.

“I…” He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. "Well... you'll always have a home here, Evie."

For a moment, her eyes flickered, and he thought he saw the beginnings of something tender in her gaze, something raw and unspoken. But then, as though suddenly realizing what she’d admitted, she shifted, her walls snapping back into place. He recognized the faint tension in her shoulders, the way she straightened just slightly, as though bracing herself.

She glanced down at her empty plate and began to gather it up, her movements quick and efficient. “Well it's getting dark... we should clean this up,” she said lightly, as if they hadn’t just shared a moment that would be carved into his memory for years to come.

Sebastian didn’t press. He knew better than to push when she wasn’t ready, and truthfully, he wasn’t discouraged. Everything that had happened so far—the way she’d smiled, the quiet sincerity of her words, the fact that she was here at all—was more than he’d dared to hope for.

He stood, grabbing the remaining plates and following her inside. And without speaking, they fell into step with each other, moving around the small kitchen like two pieces of a puzzle that still fit perfectly together.

Evangeline started rinsing the plates while Sebastian fetched the dishcloth and a drying rack. It was a rhythm they had built months ago, during those quiet days over Christmas, and falling back into it now felt as natural as breathing. Neither of them commented on it, but he caught the faintest curve of her lips as she handed him a plate to dry.

The soft clink of dishes and the gentle rush of water filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt… right. Like all the tension and uncertainty of the past few months had been stripped away.

Sebastian couldn’t help stealing glances at her as they worked. The way the soft glow of the lamplight played across her face, the way her lashes cast delicate shadows against her cheeks. She didn’t look at him, but her posture had relaxed again, and he took that as a small victory.

When the last dish was dried and set neatly on the rack, Evangeline wiped her hands on a towel and turned to him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Not bad,” she said, her voice light. “I’d forgotten how efficient we are.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning against the counter. “Yeah," he stretched out the word, "Though I’d argue I did most of the heavy lifting.”

Evangeline raised a brow, her smile turning teasing. “Oh, absolutely. Drying dishes is the pinnacle of effort.”

“Someone has to do it,” he replied with a shrug.

She chuckled, shaking her head as she hung the towel neatly on the hook by the sink. “Well, I think we’ve earned some time to relax.”

Sebastian nodded, pushing off the counter as they both headed down the hall. Without even discussing it, they each retreated to their respective rooms to change, another echo of the easy routine they’d built during her last visit.

When Sebastian emerged a few minutes later, now in an old T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms, he found Evangeline already curled up on the sofa, a book in hand.

She seemed entirely absorbed, her hazel eyes scanning the page with quiet focus, but the corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly as if she were reading something amusing.

He paused in the doorway for a moment, the sight of her stirring something warm and bittersweet in his chest. It was like stepping back into one of those evenings over Christmas, the two of them sharing the same space with an ease that had felt almost too good to last. And yet, here they were.

Clearing his throat softly, Sebastian stepped further into the room. “You know, you could've raided my bookshelves if you wanted something more exciting.”

Evangeline looked up, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “And what would you suggest, Hogwarts: A History? Or maybe something on dueling techniques?” She gestured to the book in her hand. “This, for your information, is plenty exciting.”

Sebastian tilted his head, squinting at the cover. "Mansfield Park?"

Evangeline’s teasing smile widened as she raised the book slightly, tilting it for him to see. "It’s really good."

Sebastian snorted, stepping closer to drop onto the other end of the sofa. "Another Jane Austen book, eh? You always go for stories with so much pining and repressed feelings.”

Evangeline laughed softly, closing the book just enough to mark her place with her finger. “And what exactly is wrong with pining and repressed feelings?” she asked, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

Sebastian leaned back, propping his feet up on the worn coffee table. “It’s frustrating,” he said with a sigh. “All that build-up, all those stolen glances, and then half the time, they don’t even end up saying what they really feel until the last page. Feels like torture.”

Evangeline arched a brow, her teasing smile softening. “You’d prefer something more straightforward, then? What—two characters meet, confess their feelings in the first chapter, and spend the rest of the book being sickeningly happy?”

Sebastian shrugged, crossing his arms behind his head. “Wouldn’t hurt to cut out all the unnecessary drama. Saves everyone some trouble.”

“Unnecessary drama,” Evangeline echoed, her tone dry but amused. She leaned back against the sofa, angling her body slightly toward him. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

He gave her a pointed look, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. "I’ve seen you turn a stubbed toe into a near-death experience.”

Sebastian scoffed, sitting up a little straighter. “That was one time. And for the record, it wasn’t a stubbed toe—it was a fractured toe.”

Evangeline laughed, the sound light and melodic, filling the room like warmth spreading through the space. “Sure it was,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And I suppose the world nearly ended because of it?”

“Nearly,” he said, smirking now. “But luckily, I’m resilient. A survivor, really.”

She smirked but didn’t respond, her focus returning to the book in her hands. For a moment, the only sounds were the faint crackle of the hearth and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Sebastian’s gaze drifted over her, watching the way her fingers absentmindedly turned the pages, her posture relaxing as she became engrossed again.

Finally, curiosity got the better of him. “Alright,” he said, leaning forward and nodding at the book. “What’s all the fuss about?”

Evangeline looked up, arching a brow. “Fuss?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, gesturing lazily. “This book—What’s so great about it?”

She laughed, tucking her legs beneath her. “You wouldn't get it.”

“Try me,” he said, smirking.

Evangeline hesitated, her hazel eyes narrowing as if she were trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious. Then, with an air of exasperation, she held the book out to him. “Fine. But you’d better not make fun of it.”

Sebastian took the book with a dramatic flourish, flipping through the pages with exaggerated curiosity. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m going to give this the reverence it deserves.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes but smiled. “Start where I left off—it’s marked.”

He found the spot and settled back, clearing his throat with an overly formal air. “Alright, let’s see… had Sir Thomas applied to his daughter within the first three or four days after Henry Crawford's leaving Mansfield, before her feelings were at all tranquilised, before she had given up every hope of him, or absolutely resolved on enduring his rival, her answer might have been different."

Sebastian stopped, lifting his gaze from the page with a bemused expression. "Alright, I already need context. Who’s Sir Thomas, and why does this Henry bloke have a rival? Is this another love triangle?”

Evangeline laughed softly, shaking her head. “Just keep reading."

Sebastian sighed dramatically but returned to the page. "Her answer might have been different; but, after another three days, when there was no longer anything new to agitate her spirits…” He paused, squinting at the sentence. “And her thoughts became quietly fixed on the father and the son, their merits and their situations…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Is she deciding between Henry and Edmund? Are they both in love with her?”

Evangeline sighed, though there was a trace of amusement in her expression. “It’s not as simple as that. Fanny’s loved Edmund all along, but Henry—well, he’s charming, but she doesn’t trust him.”

Sebastian tilted his head, processing her explanation. “So, Edmund’s the good guy, but he’s oblivious? And Henry’s the one stirring up trouble?”

“Exactly,” she said, her smile widening. “See? You’re getting the hang of it. Now go on." he urged, settling more deeply into the sofa, her head resting against the cushion.

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh but obliged, turning the page and letting the story unfold. Time slipped by unnoticed, the words spilling effortlessly from his lips as Evangeline listened, her body sinking deeper into the cushions.

When he finally paused, his throat dry, he glanced down at her again. Her breathing was slow and even, and her head had tilted slightly to the side, her expression serene. For a moment, he wondered if she’d fallen asleep, the sight tugging something warm and fragile in his chest.

“Evie?” he asked softly.

She hummed, her eyes fluttering open but staying half-lidded. “Still here,” she mumbled, her voice drowsy.

Sebastian grinned, setting the book down beside him. “You’re dangerously close to making me think you like this.”

Evangeline chuckled sleepily, stretching her legs out. “I might be reconsidering your talents.”

Her eyes fluttered closed again as she nestled deeper into the cushions. A faint smile played at her lips, and for a moment, Sebastian thought she might have drifted off entirely.

But when he murmured some joke about his reading being the only reason she enjoyed his company, she hummed in response. Then, in a voice so soft it was barely above a whisper, she said, “I’ve always enjoyed your company.”

Sebastian’s breath caught, his smirk faltering as her words settled over him. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t look at him—like the admission had slipped past her usual defenses in the haze of her exhaustion. And yet, it hit him squarely in the chest, a quiet, unexpected truth that left him momentarily speechless.

He turned his gaze toward the hearth, the faint glow of the fire casting warm shadows across the room. The silence stretched between them, comfortable and fragile all at once, until Evangeline’s breathing evened out completely.

She was asleep.

Sebastian let out a soft, wry laugh under his breath, shaking his head as he glanced back at her. Her head had tilted to rest against the arm of the sofa, her dark hair spilling over the cushion like a curtain. She looked peaceful, more relaxed than he’d seen her in months, and the sight stirred something deep and unshakable in him.

Careful not to wake her, he reached for the knitted throw draped over the back of the sofa, unfolding it quietly. He hesitated for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her chest, before draping it gently over her. His fingers lingered on the edge of the blanket, the temptation to brush a strand of hair from her face almost overwhelming.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he leaned back again, his head tipping against the worn cushion as he let out a slow breath. He knew full well he’d regret it come morning—the stiff ache in his neck was already a foregone conclusion—but the thought of moving, of leaving this moment, felt impossible.

Evangeline was here, just an arm’s length away, her breathing soft and steady as she dozed. The fire in the hearth crackled faintly, its glow flickering across her face, and Sebastian was utterly transfixed. Her features, so familiar yet somehow softer in sleep, stirred a strange ache in his chest—warm and tender and just a little bit painful.

He’d spent so many nights before her arrival imagining this moment, but none of his idle dreams had come close to the reality. The way her hair fell in loose waves across the cushion, the faint curve of her lips, the quiet trust in the way she’d allowed herself to fall asleep here—it all felt so achingly precious that he was half-convinced he’d wake up and find it gone.

He knew he didn’t deserve this—not yet. After everything he’d done, everything he’d put her through, the fact that she was here at all was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet, here she was. And Merlin, she was beautiful.

Sebastian’s lips quirked into a faint, rueful smile as he let out a soft chuckle under his breath. “Hopeless,” he muttered to himself, the word barely audible over the faint crackle of the fire. That’s what he was—utterly, irredeemably hopeless when it came to her.

The fire began to dim, the warm glow fading into soft embers, and the room grew quieter, the shadows stretching longer across the walls. His head tilted slightly to the side, his body settling deeper into the cushions as sleep began to claim him. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sebastian Sallow dreamed of nothing but warmth and home.

~

The first thing Sebastian noticed when he woke was the stiffness in his neck. The second thing he noticed was the blanket draped over him.

He frowned, blinking groggily as his fingers brushed the soft fabric. It was the same throw he’d used to cover Evangeline last night. He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face as he pieced it together. She must have woken up at some point, seen him sprawled here like an idiot, and decided to return the favor.

His lips twitched into a faint smile as he let his head fall back against the cushion, staring at the ceiling for a moment. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel so content and so ridiculous at the same time.

The sound of soft humming drifted from the kitchen, light and melodic, pulled him out of his thoughts. He sat up slowly, the blanket slipping from his shoulders as his curiosity piqued. Evangeline’s voice—it was unmistakable, though she wasn’t exactly singing. It was more absentminded, a gentle tune that seemed to have no real path.

He rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before glancing toward the kitchen. And then he froze.

Evangeline was standing by the counter, the kettle steaming gently as she reached for a tin of tea leaves. Her back was to him, her hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, and she was barefoot on the wooden floor.

And that’s when Sebastian realized.

She wasn’t wearing the pajama bottoms she’d worn last night. Nor the same top. In fact, the shirt she had on looked suspiciously like one of his own. It hugged her shoulders but hung loosely everywhere else, just barely covered her. The hem swayed as she shifted her weight, exposing far more of her thighs than Sebastian had ever seen.

He swallowed hard, heat rushing to his face as his gaze darted away. His heart gave a sharp, startled thud against his ribs, and he clenched his jaw, trying to steady himself. Merlin’s beard, Sallow, pull yourself together.

But his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to her as she continued humming, blissfully unaware of his presence. He’d seen her in a hundred different moments—storming into battle without hesitation, laughing with friends, leaning over a potion station with that focused furrow of her brow—but this was different. This was… intimate.

There was something so effortlessly domestic about the scene—her moving around his kitchen, preparing tea as if she belonged there—that it left him stunned.

Then she turned slightly, reaching for a mug, and the motion made the hem of her shirt ride up just a fraction higher, and Sebastian’s heart pounded as he caught the faintest glimpse of her face. Panic surged through him. Maybe I’m not supposed to see this. Maybe she doesn’t realize I’m awake.

Without thinking, he slumped back against the cushions and let his head fall to the side, squeezing his eyes shut in a hasty attempt to feign sleep. The blanket still draped across his lap helped sell the image, though he cursed inwardly at how unnatural his breathing suddenly felt.

The sound of her soft humming stopped, and he held his breath, listening to her movements as she shuffled in the kitchen. A cupboard opened, then closed. Liquid poured into a mug. Then another. The soft clink of a teaspoon stirring followed, each sound louder against the quiet morning air.

Sebastian willed himself not to peek, but it took every ounce of restraint he had. He wasn’t sure why this moment felt so precarious, so fragile. Maybe it was because she looked so unguarded, so at ease, and the thought of disrupting that made something tighten in his chest.

He heard her footsteps—barely more than a soft padding on the wooden floor—drawing closer. Is she…?

Then they paused, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d caught him. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he fought to keep his breaths slow and even.

“You’re such a liar,” Evangeline’s voice broke the silence, light and teasing. “I know you’re awake, Sebastian.”

His eyes flew open, heat flooding his face as he turned to look at her. She stood just a few feet away, a mug in her hands, one eyebrow arched in amusement. The corners of her mouth twitched in a knowing smile, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Sebastian groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Merlin’s sake, how did you know?”

Evangeline’s smile widened as she shrugged. “You were doing that thing where you breathe like you’re auditioning to play dead. It’s not very convincing.”

Sebastian let out a laugh despite himself, sitting up fully and rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. Guilty as charged.” His gaze flickered to the mug in her hands, eager to latch onto any distraction. “Is that tea for me, or…?”

“It could be,” she said, her tone playfully ambiguous. “If you’re nice.”

He smirked, pushing himself to sit upright, “Nice? I’m always nice.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her gaze meeting his with a skeptical expression. “Sure you are,” she said lightly, holding the mug out to him.

Their fingers brushed as he took it, and for a moment, the teasing between them faded, replaced by a quiet warmth. Sebastian swallowed, his grip tightening on the mug as he forced himself to focus on something—anything—other than the shockingly naked expanse of her legs and the fact that she was definitely wearing one of his shirts.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual edge of sarcasm.

Evangeline smiled, her gaze flickering away briefly before she stepped back toward the kitchen to retrieve her own mug. “I figured you could use it. The way you were sleeping looked... uncomfortable.”

“It was,” Sebastian admitted, rising from the couch and following her to the counter. “But, you know, worth it. For the company.” He leaned against the counter, watching as she moved about with easy confidence, still barefoot, still wearing that damn shirt that sent his thoughts spiraling if he looked for too long.

She shot him a look over her shoulder, her smile softening. “You didn’t have to stay out here, you know. You could’ve gone to bed.”

He shrugged, taking a sip of tea to buy himself a moment. “Didn’t feel right, leaving you out here on your own.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, "Learning from past mistakes, are we?"

Sebastian winced as though she'd pushed on a fresh bruise. His grip on the mug tightened, his shoulders stiffening as guilt bubbled to the surface.

“Evie,” he started, his voice low, but she cut him off.

“Relax,” she said, turning her back to him as she busied herself with tidying the counter. “It’s just a joke.” Then, without looking back at him, she added lightly, “Guess there weren’t any girls around this time for you to leave me for.”

Her words were casual, almost flippant, but they cut through him like a blade. Sebastian froze, his grip on the mug tightening until his knuckles turned white. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Because he certainly deserved that.

Evangeline didn’t wait for an answer. She grabbed her mug and took a quick sip, her posture too relaxed to be genuine. “I should get dressed,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Don’t want to scandalize the sheep.”

The joke was so absurd, so pointedly deflective, that Sebastian might have laughed if he hadn’t been stuck between frustration and guilt. Instead, he watched as she padded toward the hallway, her bare legs carrying her out of sight before he could gather his thoughts enough to respond.

The sound of her bedroom door clicking shut echoed faintly in the quiet kitchen. Sebastian exhaled shakily, setting his mug down on the counter with more force than necessary. He braced his hands against the edge of the counter, his head hanging as he closed his eyes and let out a slow, measured breath.

You deserve this, he reminded himself. Every barb, every joke, every hesitant glance. He’d shattered her trust, and he had no right to expect forgiveness, much less an easy path to earning it back.

But she was here. Somehow, against all odds, she was here.

He lifted his head, glancing toward the hallway where her door remained firmly shut. The fact that she’d said yes, that she’d come here despite everything—despite him—was more than he deserved.

There was no room for self-pity, no space for sulking. He’d made a mess of things, and he was damn well going to fix it. Slowly, one moment at a time, until she could look at him without that flicker of doubt in her hazel eyes.

~

The sun was high in the sky when they arrived in Upper Hogsfield, the small village bustling with quiet activity. Sebastian glanced over at Evangeline, who was taking in the sights with curiosity, her earlier sharpness replaced by an easy calm. She had changed into a tailored blouse with lace details, and a floor-length skirt with subtle pleats; a wide-brimmed summer hat was perched on her head. The tension from the morning seemed to have eased, though he could still see traces of it in the way she kept a slight distance between them.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, falling into step beside her as they wandered down the main street. “It’s not much,” he said, gesturing to the modest shops and cottages lining the road. “But it’s been keeping me busy.”

Evangeline turned to him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Busy is good,” she said lightly. “Better than brooding, I suppose.”

He smirked, the comment drawing a quiet chuckle from him.

They passed a group of children playing by the well, their laughter filling the warm afternoon air. Evangeline watched them with a soft expression before turning back to Sebastian. “So, where exactly have you been working?”

Sebastian tilted his head toward the apothecary at the far end of the village. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

The shop was small but inviting, its windows filled with neatly labeled jars and bundles of dried herbs. Sebastian pushed the door open, the bell above it chiming softly as they stepped inside. The familiar scent of potion ingredients—earthy, sharp, and faintly sweet—greeted them, and Sebastian felt a faint sense of pride as he glanced around the tidy shelves.

“Sebastian!” a cheerful voice called from behind the counter. An older witch with streaks of silver in her dark hair emerged from the back room, her face lighting up when she saw him. “And you’ve brought a guest, I see.”

Evangeline gave a polite smile, stepping forward slightly. “I’m Evangeline,” she said, her tone warm but measured.

The woman’s sharp eyes flicked between them, her smile widening knowingly. “Pleasure to meet you, my dear. I’m Rosalie, I’ve been keeping this one in line all summer.” She winked at Sebastian, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Sebastian said, leaning against the counter. “She’s the one who’s been keeping me sane. Barely.”

Rosalie laughed, waving a hand at him. “Oh, nonsense. You’ve been a fine worker. A bit clumsy with the scales at first, but you’ve got a good head for brewing.” She turned her attention back to Evangeline, her smile softening. “He’s been talking about you for weeks, you know.”

Sebastian froze, heat rushing to his face as he shot his boss a warning look. “Rosalie—”

“What?” she said innocently, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “It’s true.”

Evangeline glanced at Sebastian, her expression unreadable, before turning back to Rosalie with a faint smile. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Sebastian cleared his throat, desperate to steer the conversation back on track. “Anyway, this is where I’ve been spending most of my time,” he said, gesturing around the shop.

Evangeline wandered over to one of the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing the polished wood as she inspected the rows of neatly labeled jars. “It’s nice,” she said softly, her gaze trailing over the array of potion ingredients. “Quieter than J. Pippins, I imagine.”

Sebastian chuckled, stepping beside her. “A bit. No duels breaking out in the street outside, at least.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile, though she didn’t look at him. “Must be a change of pace for you.”

He tilted his head, watching her as she continued perusing the shelves. “It’s not so bad. Keeps me out of trouble.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, finally glancing his way. “Trouble? You? Never.”

Before he could respond, Rosalie called from behind the counter. “Evangeline, dear, you must try the salves Sebastian’s been working on. He’s got a knack for them—his bruise balm works wonders.”

Evangeline turned, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian. “A bruise balm? Sounds useful.”

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a simple recipe. But Rosalie insists on testing it on every scrape and bump anyone brings through the door.”

“Because it works,” Rosalie interjected, crossing her arms with a satisfied grin. “He’s underselling himself, as usual.”

Evangeline smirked, stepping closer to the counter. “I am curious to see this supposed brilliance for myself.”

Rosalie chuckled, reaching under the counter to pull out a small tin. “Here you go, dear. Take it—it’s on the house.”

Evangeline accepted the small tin, turning it over in her hands before stashing it in one of the shopping bags she’d acquired earlier. “Thanks,” she said softly, her tone unusually gentle. “I’ll be sure to put it to good use.”

Sebastian smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Try not to go out of your way to injure yourself just to test it.”

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with mischief. “No promises. If it’s as good as Rosalie says, I might need to give it a proper trial.”

Rosalie laughed, shaking her head as she bustled back toward the shelves. “I’d trust this one with my life when it comes to salves and draughts. Though you might want to keep an eye on him around anything flammable.”

Evangeline chuckled, "Oh trust me, I'm well aware. Aguamenti is one of the first spells I learned after meeting him."

Sebastian let out a mock groan, dragging a hand through his hair as he shot Evangeline a dramatic look. “One little mishap I’m branded for life.”

Evangeline smirked. “One little mishap? Shall I list them all? Because I distinctly remember a certain incident involving fireworks and—”

“Alright, alright,” Sebastian cut in, holding up his hands in surrender, though his grin betrayed him. “No need to air all my secrets. I’d like Rosalie to still think I’m semi-responsible.”

Rosalie chuckled from across the shop, her voice light with amusement. “Too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Sebastian cleared his throat, suddenly finding the shop exit very interesting. “Alright, that’s enough roasting for one day,” he said, his tone half-joking as he pushed off the counter. “Come on, Evie. Let me show you the rest of the village before Rosalie starts telling you all my embarrassing stories.”

Evangeline shot him a knowing smile but didn’t argue, falling into step beside him as they headed for the door. The bell chimed softly as they stepped outside, the warm afternoon sunlight washing over them.

Evangeline was at ease, and she walked beside Sebastian with her hands loosely clasped behind her back, shopping bags in hand, glancing at the quaint cottages and the cheerful vendors calling out their wares. She even laughed when a particularly cheeky goat stuck its head through a fence to try and nibble at her dress.

“Your tour’s off to a decent start,” she said, glancing at him with a teasing smile. “Though the livestock could use some manners.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as he opened the café door for her. “Can’t promise much there. Feldcroft and Upper Hogsfield aren’t exactly known for their refined goat etiquette.”

Evangeline snorted, the sound making him grin as they stepped inside the local café. It was cozy, with mismatched chairs and floral tablecloths that looked like they’d been stitched decades ago. A soft buzz of chatter filled the air, mingling with the rich aroma of coffee and savory pies.

They found a small table near the window, and Sebastian pulled out a chair for Evangeline with a flourish. “Your seat, madam.”

She rolled her eyes but took the seat anyway. Their banter came easily, and Sebastian felt himself relax as they browsed the menu. They ordered—chicken and leek pie for her, steak for him—along with tea that arrived almost instantly in steaming mugs.

“So,” Evangeline began, swirling her spoon in her tea, “Rosalie seems fond of you.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Honestly, I think Rosalie keeps me around more for the company than my skill. Not that I mind—I’ve learned a lot. Brewing outside of class is different, though. Less about following instructions and more about figuring things out on your own.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her hazel eyes studying him over the rim of her mug. “So you like it? Working there, I mean.”

Sebastian hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s not flashy or exciting, but it’s… steady. And after everything, steady feels good.”

She hummed softly, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her cup. “You’ve never struck me as the ‘steady’ type, Sebastian. But I suppose we all grow up eventually.”

He smirked, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Even if it sounds like you’re implying I was a reckless idiot before.”

Evangeline’s lips quirked into a faint smile, and she raised her mug to her lips. “Not implying,” she said lightly, taking a sip.

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as their pies arrived. The rich aroma of buttery pastry and savory filling filled the air, and for a few moments, they ate in companionable silence.

“So,” she said, breaking the quiet as she set her fork down. “Have you thought about what you want to do after Hogwarts? Continue on the path to become a Potioneer perhaps? You’d already have an apprenticeship lined up here, and you are quite talented at it.”

Sebastian considered the question, his brow furrowing slightly. It was something he’d been turning over in his mind all summer, though he still didn’t have a clear answer. “I don’t think so,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “I’ve thought about it, but… I don't think it's right for me. There is such a thing as too steady. Spending the rest of my life weighing ingredients and stirring cauldrons? I don’t know. Feels a bit… tame.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her hazel eyes studying him thoughtfully. "Yeah... I can't say it's what I imagined for you. But you’ll figure it out.” Her tone was steady, certain, and it sent a small wave of warmth through him.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on her. “What about you? Any grand plans after Hogwarts?”

She shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll travel for a while. I... think I'd like to become a curse-breaker."

Sebastian tried to swallow the unease that crept up his throat, but it clung stubbornly, sour and unshakable. A curse-breaker. Of course, it made sense for her—smart, brave, fiercely independent. It was exactly the sort of future she’d thrive in.

But most curse-breakers were sent far away, tackling ancient ruins and dangerous sites in remote corners of the world. His mind spun with the thought of her being gone for months, maybe even years at a time. The thought of his life without her in it at all was almost unbearable.

“That’s… ambitious,” he said finally, his voice more strained than he intended. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile as he tried again. “It’s a perfect fit for you, though. Adventurous, dangerous, getting to show off your ancient magic prowess—very Evangeline Sterling.”

Her lips curved faintly, though she seemed too focused on her tea to notice the tension in his voice. “It’s just an idea,” she said, her tone light. “I haven’t decided on anything yet. There’s still time.”

Time. The word was meant to be reassuring, but it only made the knot in his stomach tighten. He wanted to say something more, something encouraging that didn’t make him sound like a selfish git. But the words stuck, stubborn and uncooperative, as though the very idea of her leaving had tied them in knots.

He was saved—or cursed, depending on how he looked at it—by the subtle change in Evangeline’s posture. She stiffened almost imperceptibly, her gaze flicking toward the window behind him. The faint smile on her face vanished, replaced by something guarded, almost cold.

Sebastian frowned, turning slightly in his seat to follow her line of sight. It didn’t take long to spot the source of her sudden change.

Abigail Hartwell.

The fifth-year-going-on-sixth-year Gryffindor stood outside the café, chatting animatedly with one of the vendors. Her auburn hair gleamed in the sunlight, and her laugh carried faintly through the glass. She was holding up a vibrant scarf, twirling it in her hands as the shopkeeper nodded along with her chatter.

Sebastian’s stomach dropped.

Of course, it had to be her, the girl he'd kissed by the fire. Because why wouldn’t the universe throw this particular wrench into what had otherwise been a near-perfect day?

He turned back to Evangeline, his heart sinking further at the carefully neutral expression she wore. Her gaze had returned to her tea, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug with slow, deliberate movements. But the slight tension in her jaw and the way her shoulders held just a fraction too tightly gave her away.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying to fill the awkward silence that had suddenly wrapped itself around the table like a shroud. “Evie—”

“Don’t,” she said softly, cutting him off without looking up. Her voice wasn’t sharp, but it carried a weight that stopped him in his tracks. “It’s fine.”

“I didn’t know she’d be here," he insisted, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table as he tried to catch her eye.

Evangeline let out a quiet, humorless laugh, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were guarded, her expression carefully composed. “Sebastian, I’m not upset. She has every right to exist."

The words were calm, measured, but they hit Sebastian like a punch to the gut. She wasn’t raising her voice or accusing him of anything, and that somehow made it worse.

“You know we don't speak anymore,” he said, his voice low but earnest. "We haven't spoken since..."

Evangeline’s lips quirked into something resembling a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I believe you.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he asked softly, his heart pounding in his chest.

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, steady but unreadable. “Because it doesn’t change anything, Sebastian. I’m not mad. I just… I don’t want to talk about it.”

He opened his mouth to protest, to try again, but she cut him off with a small shake of her head. “Please,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can we just… finish lunch?”

Sebastian stared at her for a long moment, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to say. But the guarded look in her eyes stopped him. She wasn’t ready, and pushing her would only make things worse.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice soft and reluctant. He leaned back in his chair, picking up his fork even though the thought of eating made his stomach churn.

Evangeline gave him a small, almost grateful nod before returning to her pie. The conversation shifted after that—forced, lighter topics that neither of them seemed particularly invested in. But Sebastian couldn’t shake the tension lingering between them, like a shadow neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

When they left the café, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting warm golden hues over the village. Sebastian led the way back toward the Floo, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stole glances at Evangeline. She walked beside him, her expression calm but distant, and he felt the weight of her silence like a leaden knot in his chest.

By the time they reached the apothecary, Sebastian couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. “Evie—”

She stopped too, tilting her head slightly as she met his gaze, and he hesitated, his throat tightening around the words he wanted to say. But then he let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just… I’m sorry.”

Evangeline frowned, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For everything,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “For being such a colossal idiot."

She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, her lips curved into a faint, tired smile. “You’re always apologizing, Sebastian.”

“Because I’m always screwing things up,” he muttered.

Evangeline let out a soft sigh, stepping closer. “Look, I don’t need another apology,” she said gently. “I just… I need time. Okay?"

Sebastian nodded, his throat tight as he forced himself to look at her.

“Time,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “Alright.”

She gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning and continuing toward the Floo station. He followed, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

The sun was skimming the horizon by the time they returned to Feldcroft, the golden light of evening casting long shadows across the village. Sebastian busied himself in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and checking the roast he’d put in the oven earlier, while Evangeline sat quietly at the table, her fingers idly tracing the wood grain.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it was heavy, filled with everything they weren’t saying. Sebastian focused on the rhythm of his knife against the cutting board, the soft clink of dishes as he prepared their meal. It was easier to lose himself in the familiar motions than to confront the knot of emotions twisting in his chest.

Finally, Evangeline broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. “Where did we leave off?”

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder, frowning slightly. “Leave off?”

“In Mansfield Park,” she clarified, tilting her head as she watched him. “I fell asleep."

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he set the knife down. “Right. I barely made it through a chapter.”

Evangeline’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Then you’ll have to catch me up,” she said, leaning back in her chair with an air of expectation. “Wouldn’t want me missing any crucial moments.”

Sebastian wiped his hands on a dish towel, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

She shrugged, her smile widening slightly. "After dinner, yes. Speaking of, you need any help?"

Sebastian shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’ve got it. You’ve been on your feet enough today. Just sit back and relax.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Relax? You mean sit here and watch you wield that knife? No thanks.”

He smirked, turning back to the cutting board. “I’m perfectly capable, Evie.”

“I'm sure you are,” she replied lightly, standing and crossing the small kitchen to his side. “But I also happen to know you have a habit of biting off more than you can chew."

Sebastian rolled his eyes but didn’t stop her as she slipped past him to grab an apron from the hook by the pantry. She tied it around her waist with practiced ease, shooting him a pointed look. “So, what can I do?”

“You can sit back down like I said,” he replied, only half-serious as he chopped a carrot with exaggerated precision. “Dinner’s practically done anyway.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in playful skepticism. “Practically done, huh? And yet you’re still chopping vegetables like your life depends on it.”

He paused, glancing at the array of ingredients he’d half-prepared. She wasn’t wrong.

“Alright, fine,” he relented, stepping aside with a dramatic sigh. “Since you’re so eager, you can finish the carrots. But don’t blame me if you regret volunteering.”

Evangeline grinned, stepping up to the counter and taking the knife from him. She tested its weight with a flick of her wrist before resuming his chopping, her movements quick and confident.

Sebastian leaned against the counter, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “You’ve done this before.”

She smirked, not looking up. “What gave it away? The part where I didn’t cut my fingers off?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, crossing his arms. “But also the speed. You’re better at this than I am.”

“Not surprising,” she replied casually, her tone teasing. “I grew up in the Muggle world, remember? No house-elves to do the cooking for us.”

Sebastian tilted his head, studying her as she worked. “I never thought about that. So, what? You cooked all the time?”

“Not all the time,” she said with a shrug. “But the orphanage wasn’t exactly overflowing with staff. If you wanted something more than bland stew, you learned how to make it yourself.”

Her tone was light, but Sebastian caught the faint edge of something unspoken in her words. He didn’t press, instead focusing on the way her hands moved with practiced ease, turning the once-messy pile of vegetables into neat, even slices.

“Alright,” he said after a moment, a grin tugging at his lips. “You win. You’re officially better in the kitchen.”

Evangeline laughed softly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m good at lots of things.”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed,” he replied, his grin softening into something warmer.

They finished preparing the meal together, falling into an easy rhythm as they moved around the small kitchen. And by the time they sat down to eat, the earlier tension was gone.

The meal was simple—a small roast with freshly sautéed vegetables—but they really didn't need much, especially after their earlier feast at the café. They kept the conversation light, trading stories about their summer adventures and laughing at the ridiculous antics of their mutual friends.

When the plates were cleared and the kitchen tidied, Evangeline leaned against the counter, her arms crossed as she regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “So,” she said, tilting her head. “Are you going to keep your promise?”

Sebastian frowned, confused. “Promise?”

“To catch me up on Mansfield Park,” she clarified, her lips curving into a small smile. “Or were you planning on backing out?”

He chuckled, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “I wouldn’t dare.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Good. Then let’s go outside.”

Sebastian blinked, “Outside?”

She nodded, pushing off the counter and heading toward the back door. “It’s a nice evening,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing smile. “Unless you’re too delicate to read by moonlight.”

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he followed her. “Alright, alright. But if I'm eaten by mosquitos, you’re to blame.”

Evangeline stepped out into the night, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. The stars were just beginning to emerge, their faint glow scattered across the darkening sky. She led him into the field stretching beyond the cottage, silently casting lumos to light the way.

Sebastian followed close behind as the wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze, their colors muted in the silvery light of the rising moon. The warmth of the day had given way to the cool, crisp embrace of evening, and the air smelled faintly of grass and distant woodsmoke.

“Here,” Evangeline said softly, stopping at a small rise in the field. “This is perfect.”

Sebastian glanced around. The spot she’d chosen offered a clear view of the stars, the endless expanse of the night sky stretching above them like a tapestry.

“You’ve got an eye for scenery, I’ll give you that.”

Evangeline lowered herself onto the soft grass, her dress pooling around her as she leaned back on her hands. “It’s not exactly a cozy armchair by the fire,” she admitted, tilting her head to gaze up at the sky. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

Sebastian sat beside her, stretching out his legs and setting the book down between them. “It is,” he agreed, his voice quiet as he followed her gaze. “Though I still maintain the mosquitos are out to get me.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and melodic in the stillness. “You’ll survive,” she teased. “And if not, I promise to avenge you.”

He chuckled, reaching for the book and flipping to the marked page. “Alright. Let’s see where we left off.”

Evangeline smiled, shifting slightly to lean against his shoulder. The motion was casual, unthinking, but it sent a jolt through Sebastian that he hoped didn’t show. He adjusted the book in his hands, clearing his throat as he began to read.

His voice was steady and low, weaving the words into the quiet night. Evangeline listened intently, her eyes drifting closed every so often as she allowed the story to wash over her.

Occasionally, she would comment, her voice soft and teasing, poking fun at a particular line or offering her opinion on a character’s decisions. Sebastian would respond in kind, his quips earning quiet laughter that made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t quite name.

As the night deepened, the words began to blur together, their cadence slower and softer as Sebastian’s voice grew quieter. He wasn't sure when they'd laid down on their backs, or when Evie had extinguished the glow of her wand as they looked up at the sky, but Sebastian found himself stretched out beside her, the book forgotten on the grass between them.

Evangeline’s voice broke the quiet, soft and thoughtful. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

Sebastian turned his head slightly, glancing at her. “What is?”

Her hazel eyes remained fixed on the stars, their faint glow reflecting in her gaze. “How small we are,” she murmured. “How the world feels so big and endless until you’re lying here, looking up at… all of this.”

Sebastian followed her gaze. He wasn’t often struck by the enormity of the universe—his thoughts had a way of staying locked firmly in the present, on the people and problems closest to him. But now, with Evangeline beside him, he felt the weight of her words settle deep in his chest.

“Getting a bit philosophical on me, eh Sterling?"

Evangeline smiled faintly, her gaze still fixed on the stars. “Moments like this… they make you think. Or maybe they make you feel too much. I’m not sure which.”

Sebastian’s gaze drifted from the stars to Evangeline’s profile, unable to resist the pull of the soft curve of her cheek, the way the moonlight kissed her skin, and the delicate line of her jaw. Her hair spilled across the grass, a dark curtain catching faint silver threads under the night sky. She looked serene, thoughtful, untouchably beautiful in a way that made his chest ache.

She wasn’t the same girl he’d met in two years ago, scrappy and sharp-tongued, too fierce for her size, though he lover her too. Somewhere along the way, she had grown up, grown into someone with a quiet strength and a beauty that left him undone. She wasn’t just Evie, his friend, his confidante. She was…

Merlin help him.

As if sensing the weight of his gaze, Evangeline turned her head, her eyes catching his. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the world narrowing to the space between them. Her lips parted slightly, and Sebastian saw the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Caught you,” she said softly, her voice teasing but gentle.

Sebastian floundered, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. Her soft laugh broke the tension, and she shook her head, her gaze drifting back to the stars.

“Relax, Sebastian,” she murmured.

She sounded casual, but the tension lingering in the air told a different story. Sebastian couldn’t look away, his heart pounding as he watched the faint flush that spread across her cheeks.

For a moment, he thought he saw something in her eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, of curiosity, as though she were daring him to close the distance between them. His chest tightened, his mind spinning with the possibilities of what might happen if he leaned in, if he just…

But then Evangeline let out a soft laugh, breaking the spell. “You’ve got that look,” she teased, her tone light. “The one you get when you’re overthinking something.”

Sebastian forced a chuckle, raking a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, you know me. Always thinking too much. Or not enough.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to face him. "So what is it this time?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words tangled in his throat, refusing to cooperate. How could he even begin to explain the tangle of emotions he was feeling? How could he put into words the way she made him feel—how the very thought of her was both a comfort and a torment?

Instead, he shook his head with a lopsided grin, defaulting to humor to shield himself. “Oh, you know, just thinking that you're hogging the better angle for the stars."

Evangeline narrowed her eyes, her lips twitching into a knowing smirk. “Hogging the better angle for the stars?” she repeated, her tone dripping with skepticism. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Sebastian shrugged, his grin widening as he leaned back onto the grass. “What can I say? You’re very inconsiderate when it comes to stargazing placement.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t press further. Instead, she lay back down, her gaze drifting to the sky again. The quiet returned, stretching between them, and Sebastian was just starting to relax when he felt her shift slightly closer. He tensed, the subtle movement catching him off guard. The warmth of her presence brushed against his side, and before he could process what was happening, her hand reached for his. She brushed his palm lightly, hesitant yet deliberate, before lacing their fingers together.

“Your hands are cold,” she murmured softly, her voice so quiet it almost got lost in the rustle of the grass around them.

Sebastian chuckled faintly, trying to steady his pounding heart. “Well, you’re the one who grabbed it. Don’t complain now.”

Evangeline tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes as she glanced at him. “I’m not complaining,” she said simply, her tone lighter now. “Just an observation.”

Her hands were smaller than his, and impossibly soft, a stark contrast to the sharp edges of his own. It made no sense, really. She’d spent just as many hours clutching her wand, casting spells, and facing danger, yet her hands were untouched by the wear of it all.

“You’re quiet,” Evangeline said softly, breaking the silence.

He turned his head toward her, their faces closer now than he’d realized. “Just… thinking.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile. “More star angles?”

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Not this time.”

"Then what?"

Sebastian swallowed, his heart heavy with thoughts he couldn’t voice. The memory of the party loomed like a shadow over this perfect moment, a bitter reminder of his mistakes. He thought about how Evangeline had clung to him that night, the trust in her eyes as if he was her anchor. And yet, he’d left her.

Left her for Abigail.

The memory of that drunken, thoughtless kiss was blurry at best, and even in the haze of it, he couldn’t conjure any meaning. What he could remember clearly, though, was the fallout. His brilliant plan—or lack thereof—had been to act like it didn’t matter. Like if he carried on as if nothing had happened, the rumors swirling through the school would simply burn out.

It had been selfish. Stupid. He’d allowed himself to be seen around the castle with Abigail, as though he had something to prove, as though flaunting indifference would somehow mend the cracks. Instead, it had only driven the knife deeper.

And yet, he’d done it anyway.

He thought about that night by the Black Lake, where the soft lap of water against the shore had been the only sound between them. He’d stumbled through an apology, the words tumbling out unevenly. He’d tried—tried so desperately—to explain himself, to make her see that what had happened meant nothing, that the last thing he ever wanted was to hurt her.

But he’d stopped short of the full truth. He hadn’t told her the thing that haunted him most, the thing that clawed at his chest every time he saw her—the truth that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with her.

It wasn’t just love in the way people usually spoke of it. It wasn’t gentle or measured, something that grew quietly over time. No, this was all-consuming, an all-encompassing force that made him feel both weightless and chained. It terrified him—how deeply it rooted itself in his soul, how it left no part of him untouched. He loved her fiercely, painfully, in a way that felt as though it might tear him apart if he kept it hidden for much longer.

And now, as she lay beside him, her hand soft in his, waiting for whatever answer he’d give, the weight of his silence grew. He thought about telling her—about finally letting those three small, monumental words tumble free from where they’d lived on the edge of his tongue for years. He thought about how good it would feel to let her know, to stop hiding what had always been written so plainly in the way he looked at her.

But then he thought about today. The way she’d made those comments this morning over tea, not-so-subtle jabs he fully deserved. The way her expression had tightened when Abigail passed by the cafe, like a wound reopening despite her efforts to mask it. The way she’d told him she needed time.

Time.

She’d been clear, and he couldn’t take that from her. He couldn’t heap his feelings onto her now, when she deserved the space to decide for herself what she wanted—without guilt, without obligation.

So he swallowed the truth once more, compressing it into something smaller, safer. Something that wouldn’t burden her.

“You mean a lot to me, Evangeline,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Everything to me, really."

Evangeline didn’t respond as she turned her head toward him, her eyes meeting his, and for a moment, Sebastian thought he might have said too much—or maybe not enough. Her gaze searched his face, steady and unflinching, as though she were trying to read the unspoken things he couldn’t quite bring himself to say.

“...everything?" She repeated softly.

Sebastian swallowed hard, his fingers tightening instinctively around hers. The urge to tell her everything—to spill the entirety of his heart at her feet—burned fiercely in his chest. But he couldn’t. Not when she’d only just begun to let him in again.

Still, he couldn’t lie to her.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everything.”

Evangeline’s expression softened, her lips parting slightly as she absorbed his words. For a moment, it looked like she might say something—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear. Her hazel eyes flickered with something unreadable, something caught between disbelief and longing.

“Sebastian,” she started, her voice barely audible. Her fingers curled tighter around his, as if steadying herself for what came next. “You…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to their joined hands as she let out a soft, almost nervous laugh. “You always have a way of saying things that make it hard to think straight.”

Sebastian’s heart twisted, unsure whether to feel disappointed, relieved, or smug at her words. She hadn’t said what he secretly hoped for—but she hadn’t pulled away, either. Instead, she held onto him, her fingers laced tightly with his as though she couldn’t let go, even if she tried.

He let out a soft laugh, a sound caught somewhere between amusement and nervousness. “Well, I aim to leave a lasting impression,” he said, “Even if it means I’m just making you dizzy.”

“Dizzy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” she murmured, her voice so quiet it felt like a secret meant only for him.

His chest tightened, the confession—small as it was—sending a wave of warmth through him. Did she realize what she was saying? Did she know what her words did to him, how they made him feel like he was teetering on the edge of something he both craved and feared?

He wanted to say so much more—to tell her that she wasn’t the only one who felt dizzy, that she had a way of making the ground beneath him feel unsteady in the best way. But he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t figure out how to say what he meant without risking too much.

“Well,” she said softly, breaking the moment as she let go of his hand and sat up. The warmth of her touch faded too quickly, leaving his palm cold in the evening air. “We should probably head back in. The dew’s starting to seep through my dress.”

Sebastian blinked, startled by the sudden shift, and scrambled to sit up beside her. The spell of the moment had shattered, leaving him feeling oddly untethered, like something important had slipped through his fingers. “Oh, right,” he said quickly, brushing his hands on his trousers to keep them busy. “Can’t have you catching a chill."

Sebastian rose to his feet, picking up the forgotten book and tucking it under his arm before following her back towards his cottage, his mind spinning with everything left unsaid.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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[002yb]

Jason handing his family the invitations for his wedding with Dick: :)

His family, totally oblivious to their relationaship until now: >:(

Okay, but Jason made those invitations back when he was still Robin and his crush on Dick was soft and sweet. Alfred would have helped put them together. A wedding invitation/save-the-date is an intimate affair, after all. It should be perfect.

So it becomes a lesson in stationary and penmanship with the playful teasing of a grandfather to his grandson and all the romantic, whimsical follies that fill Jason's sweet little head.

And then Bruce sees them and is confused up until Jason proudly extends him an invitation.

Bruce being all sorts of endeared until the exact moment he's not because, '...cordially invited to...Richard and Jason...what?'

He's stopped by a scathing look from Alfred because this is as sweet as it is harmless, master bruce, kindly stfu.

Only Bruce has to know because why Dick?? And Jason looks at Bruce like he's crazy and, okay. Yeah. It is a dumb question. Dick is wonderful. But Jason is so young. Jason is his baby.

'Lookit the date, boss.' Jason would say, and Bruce would see it then. Set for some day some years in the future.

And then Dick comes in and Jason loses his nerve because these are his romantic fancies - he doesn't want to be exposed

So he throws himself over them and is adamant about Dick fucking right off get lost omg.

But Dick still gets his hands on it and he smiles because 'aww, little wing~'

It's harmless. It's sweet. They laugh about it, then forget about it as life carries on. They all save their individual invitations though. They're all hidden away, saved as a silly memory.

And then Jason dies and that memory hurts.

That period after when everything is falling apart - when Dick is really getting married to who might be the love of his life, he finds that roughly made invitation and his heart breaks, and him along with it. Note: the wedding doesn't happen.

Then Jason comes back. It's as vicious and violent as usual. Dick isn't made aware until much later when Jason's childhood puppy crush has become a forgotten thing again.

Jason forgets, too.

But they come together. Sometimes a family, sometimes something different - a united front. They reconnect. They bond and fight and challenge each other and pick one another up and it's better than before. They're equals.

Something something dickjay get together. Cute sweet something something.

Skipping ahead because this is my singular thought for this ask ngl hahaha. One day I'll work on brevity whoops.

In true Dick Grayson fashion, their relationship goes from 0 to 100. From casual to committed. Only it's been a slow-building thing all this time, so they fall into it with ease.

Dick pulls out that invitation from before when he proposes to Jason. The dates still work and Jason dies 1) from excitement because Dick is down on his fucking knee like something out of a novel, a decade old wedding invitation from a lifetime ago in his hand that he saved and AHH and 2) from embarrassment because omfg Dick kept that nooooooo but also yes ;U;

It's those invitations that they hand out to friends and family. Old and modest as they are, it's perfect.

And yeah, Bruce being very ):< that Dick is going after his babygirl. And Jason getting exasperated because Bruce got his save-the-date years ago. That was indication enough, hello? Alfred, too.

Just like before, Alfred gives Bruce a sharp look because sir, stfu this is a happy day.

Which it is. Bruce relents. He's on board. As father of the bride grooms, who should he make out checks to?

[eatdrinkandburyme]

.

[stuckybarton]

Manifestation of A Happy Ending

SUMMARY: "Everyone deserves a happy ending, even you."

CHARACTERS: Stephen Strange x Reader;

WARNINGS: Brief Description of Child Birth.

WORDS: 2,022

MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist

~

Part 5 CANDLELIGHT

One of the few things you had learned since your past and your present had collided was the world was constantly moving. Everyone would try to move on, try to better themselves. A process the might look painful on one end, and easy for some. You had it easy. Having Stephen by your side all throughout was good, being able to find the good in the world in him, in your relationship and eventual marriage as well as the child you were carrying.

Things has been going well and you found yourself visiting the compound more on a regular basis now with Stephen constantly by your side. His sling ring a good tool to use to avoid dealing with New York traffic. Being able to reconnect with your friends had been hard at first having ghosted them for a hefty amount of time, but things had been good, especially with everyone just as excited about the baby coming in a few more months.

"Have you found out about the gender?" Nat had inquired as soon as you had arrived into the common room, your husband and Wong was dealing with a mission briefing with Steve and Tony while you waited.

"Not yet." You smiled at your friend before rubbing your growing bump. Sitting by the window with your friend, it was still weird for you to come back here, knowing everything that had happened. The way you just left and never looked back. "We still haven't decided if we're going to wait until the baby is born."

Nat smiled, asking your permission, had placed her hand against your stomach. The light thump had made the two of you jump, your baby's first kick.

"Still can't convince you to name the baby Natalie?" She teased making your burst out laughing.

"Tell that to Wanda and Thor, they're already bribing me with naming the baby after them too." You giggled remembering the multiple of times you had to deal with the two when you visit. "But I'll think about it." You assured knowing the name you had in mind would sound good with a second name added to it.

"We're not mad at you for what happened, Y/N." Nat had spoke all of a sudden, surprising you with the shift of your conversation. "We're surprised that everything happened the way that it did, but we understand why you did what you had to do."

You were left in silence, it was still something you tried your best to keep to yourself. A resentment they might have towards you because of your choice, how you turned your back on all of them when your relationship with Tony ended.

Before Nat could continue on with her words, FRIDAY had called for her to the briefing as well.

"We'll talk later, I'll find someone to keep you company for a while." Nat has said with a smile leaving you all alone to your own thoughts.

It would take a while to come to terms with your choice, but as long as you had Stephen and the baby, you had nothing more you had to worry about. Rubbing your stomach again, the thump had made you smile as you started to hum against the air, hoping to calm your restless baby.

Your eyes lingered onto the windows, the well manicured lawn and the vast land of the compound. You had remembered the time where you would sit in the middle of the grass, soaking into the sunlight after being in the confinement of your former room for days on end.

"I hope I am not intruding."

Turning your head away from the window, the sight of Loki had surprised you. For the most part, you had known about the team's hesitation towards the reformed God, and the other part of you still wary of him after the last time you've seen him in person--when he and his brother had made their way to Stephen's sanctum hoping to find you. The words that he spoke that became the push you needed to this life you now live.

"No you're not, Loki." You assured the God as he has come to approach you. "How's your stay since I've last seen you?" You inquired the man.

Unlike everyone in the team, you didn't have the same resentment towards the man--knowing from Thor what had happened to him, what he had to do to survive, you try your best not to put it against him if you could. And he is a good company to have while you do your research for your book.

"I'm afraid I've lost my library companion." He responded, a ghost of a smile resting on his face. "And I think an apology is long overdue after what I've said."

One brow rose waiting for him to continue his words.

"What I had called you in Strange's Sanctum is uncalled for and I never got the chance to apologize to you."

So he did know you were in the Sanctum. Blinking you didn't really know what to say.

"Why didn't you tell Thor or Tony?" You found yourself asking after a moment.

"What for? If you truly want to be found, you wouldn't have hidden, in such a poor excuse of curtains of all things. And I do not believe that you would be happy with Stark in the long run."

"So you're favoring Stephen over Tony?" You smiled knowing the vendetta still placed on Stephen's back for what he did to Loki all those years before.

"I have said no such thing." He brushed off finally sitting besides you on the couch. "But you're more tolerable compared to the rest of the people in this compound, so your happiness is something I'd champion for."

The biggest compliment you had received from Loki and somehow you find yourself blushing at it. You held onto the man's hand.

"I think I might just name my baby after you, Loki." You teased. "Is this your plan all along?"

"Is it working?" He smirked right back, mischief twinkling his eyes.

"You have Nat, Wanda, and your brother to fight for that right." You pointed out giggling at the antics that Loki was slowly showcasing you. A rare sight as the man chooses to keep to himself most of the time. "Want to feel the baby?" You offered looking up at the man.

"Are you sure?" The man sounded so uncertain and for a while you understood where he was coming from but knowing him, knowing he wouldn't hurt you, it doesn't sound too bad to have him feel the baby too.

Hand still holding onto his own, you placed his palm on top of your stomach. Smiling as soon as his palm rested, a sudden kick had made the two of your jump for a moment. Giving him a side glance, an amazed look that rested on his face placed you more at ease.

"They like you." You pointed out with a smile.

"A mistake they'd made before they're even born." Loki muttered pulling away.

"Loki--" You warned. "You don't contradict a pregnant woman." You warned with a pointed look now focus on him. A sheepish smile now resting on his face because of it.

Before Loki could further contradict himself, the sound of a few voices approaching had the two of you looking up and the sight of your husband and Wong coming to pick you up. But the sight of Tony and Steve also with them, the smile on your face had fallen. So much for trying to avoid the man.

"Hands off the wife, Laufeyson." Your husband warned, but you rolled your eyes and smiled towards the also much annoyed Loki.

"Loki's been keeping me company." You pointed out finally standing up and approaching your husband in the process.

"Fifty bucks he's also trying to convince you to name the baby after him."

"Keep your money to yourself, Strange." You snorted wrapping an arm around his waist. You smiled beamingly at your husband before winking knowingly at Loki and the conversation they had would only be theirs to keep from now on. "Loki's been nothing but nice to me and I'm staring to like the idea of Baby Loki."

At the grimace your husband had on you couldn't help but burst into as loud fits of laughter.  Resting your head against his chest, try as the man could, it was still hard for him to keep his emotions and his sass in check. You were fine with it, happy for his antics from time to time when he wasn't getting on your nerves.

"We'll talk about our child's life choices if you do that when we get home." He muttered cradling your head as you pull back to look at him. "Say goodbye to your friend before we go."

You smiled hugging Loki, taking the man by surprise before promising to catch up with Steve if Stephen ever stops by the compound again. But for a fraction of a second, you found your attention towards Tony, the longing look on his face as he looked at you and it scared you so much. You know you wouldn't leave Stephen, after everything you had been through, but it was just sad to see the playboy so broken--because of you.

"Bye, Tony." You finally whispered before joining your husband and Wong through the portal to bring you right home to the Sanctum.

~

"Benedict Vincent Strange."

The name had escaped your lips as soon as the baby was born. The past thirteen hours, Stephan had been besides himself. Everything he had learned from Med School was thrown in the trash when it comes to you. The doctors had tried their best to stay as far away from him while making sure you were well accommodated.

And everything was worth it as he now held on to his son. A blend of you and him. 

Even as the past few hours had been you sobbing to the high heavens while you pushed for the baby out while you pray for their safety. Stephen was relieved to know you and the baby were safe and healthy judging from the lungs capable of screaming up a storm from the both of you. The smile had somehow found their way onto his face.

He had watched the doctors begin to clean up his son before turning his attention back to you. Leaning back against the bed, even with the fatigue and pain still painting your face, you still had this big smile watching from the sides as the nurses swaddle your son.

"He's got your eyes." Stephen pointed out with a smirk and you were quick to roll your eyes. It was just a fun little debate the two of you had while you prepared for the baby, how such discussion span and become so meaningless as all the mattered was this very sight.

A life he never thought he would be allowed to have in his life. After everything he had done--the mistake he had made, he was still allowed to have his own happy ending in the form of you who had almost fallen face first in front of him in the cafe.

"Do you ever regret it?" Stephen asked after a moment of silence passed between the two of you. "Leaving Tony behind for someone like me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Stephen." You smiled holding onto his hands, pulling him closer to where you laid to rest. "I've got everything I could have ever wanted in my life. A decent man that loves me more than the whole multiverse combined. I've got a child that I will give my life and soul to protect and love."

It was the truth, and the smile that lingered on his face made everything alright now. There would come a time that his life would be put on the line for the sake of the world, but it was alright. It was for you and it was for your son. His own little manifestation of a happy ending.

He would want nothing more in his life.

Tagging:

Stephen Strange One-Shot / Series

@secretsthathauntus @delightfulheartdream @d0ct0rstrangewife @gumgum78 @supervengerslock @inas-thing

Everything~

@wandering-spiritash @emmy626 @star017 @silverrmistt @broadwaybabe18

[parkers-gal]

OMG!!! for angst you should do one where Harry finally gets a girl and everyone’s used to choosing tom over him and the reader is just naturally close to tom and he accuses her of cheating on him w T and it’s really angsty

requests are open

wc: 1.8k

—

It was a force of habit. Everybody knew, but nobody mentioned. Nobody knew the full extent of it, nobody cared to ask how much it bothered him. In hindsight, it probably isn't even that obvious. Not unless you open your eyes, not unless somebody confides in you, plants the idea in your head so you can’t see it differently

You had been going out with Harry for a good two months by the time you’d finally met the rest of his family. You and Tom had met previously before, having been introduced and together for only a day before both of your jobs drove you in opposite directions. When you rejoiced, you were naturally close, reconnecting that bond that was cut off too shortly.

Harry didn’t mind at first. He liked that you got along with his family. It made him happy to know you fit so well into his lifestyle. But it wasn’t until people started whispering around, joking that they always thought you and Tom would end up together. It was all fun and games, you knew that, of course. You’d never thought of Tom that way, despite everyone forcing the idea onto you. It was a mutual agreement, that the two of you would never cause problems between your relationship with Harry. And that your relationship with Harry would never splinter your friendship with Tom.

It was just after a dinner with Harry’s family. You were talking with Tom while Harry talked to Sam, when somebody made another joke about how you should be with Tom instead. You laughed it off, as you always did, but Harry couldn’t do the same. He excused himself as Nikki brought a few dishes out. You noticed his hostile and closed off walk, so you, too, excused yourself before following him out of the dining room and all the way upstairs to where he’d hid off to.

You knocked with the knuckles of your right hand. “Har?” The door creaked open as you nudged it slightly, stepping into the room. “You okay?” He grumbled something inaudible and you stepped closer. “What was that?”

“I said no, I’m not.” “What’s wrong, hun?” You carefully sat yourself next to him, naturally leaning into his side.

“It seems like everyone just thinks you’re dating my brother! I mean, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if there’s something else going on.” You back track, sitting up and separating from his side with furrowed brows. “What?” He didn’t answer, merely turning to look the other way, leaning his elbows on his knees as he sighed. “Harry you know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” He’s angry, and you finally notice just how much.

“Harry… you know we’re just friends. We’ve always been this close.”

“Yeah well maybe you’re too close.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like that with anyone else.” “I’m like that with everyone else! Everyone except you.” You huff, defending yourself but keeping your voice calm.

“What makes me so damn different, then, huh?”

“You’re my boyfriend, Harry! Of course you’re different!”

“Yeah well I can’t see the difference between how you treat boyfriends and how you treat best friends, anymore.”

“What?” You sit back a bit, shock running through your veins at his confession.

“Really, though! It’s a bit fishy, if you ask me.” He’s still speaking sternly, angrily. He’s frustrated, but now so are you.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Harry.” You’re just as angry now. You’re warning him, hoping he won’t jump off that ledge into the irreversible.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting.” He takes the leap.

“You know I’m not that kind of person. You know your brother, Harry. He’d never do something like that to you.” You’re trying to reach an empathetic approach, not quite ready to burst unless he’s absolute about this.

“No but I know that everyone else is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” “That means everyone else chooses my brother over me. I’m used to it.”

“You’re not implying that I’m one of those people, are you?” You gaze into his eyes, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth. He swallows thickly.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m not angry if you are with him. I just wish you’d told me before cheating.”

“What the fuck, Harry,” You mutter it, exhaling angrily. “I’m not cheating!”

“I’m telling you I’m not angry that you are!”

“If you weren’t angry, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“So you admit you’re cheating on me? That I should be angry?”

“Fuck you, Harry.” You jab a finger in his direction. “You know that’s not what I said or what I meant.”

“I mean, you don’t even need to say it.” He chuckles bitterly.

“What does that mean?” You’re raising your voice, anger thickening the tension in the room.

“I mean, take one look at you and Tom together in a room and you already look like you’re in love.”

“Fuck that, Harry. He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have friends, y’know.”

“I never said otherwise!”

“What are you even on, right now?” You stand angrily, looking at him. He looks at you with a mirrored expression.

“I’m just asking for the truth, here!”

“No, you’re jealous.” He swallows, nostrils flaring. You know you’ve hit a weak spot, a sensitive area. He’s angry as ever, now. He stands. “Harry, I’m s-”

“You’re in love with someone else.”

Tears fall from your eyes as you try to compose yourself. You’re just as angry. You’ve taken the blow, fired your own canons. You’re not sure how much longer you can battle in the field.

“Fuck you, Harry.”

“No, fuck you!”

“You’re jealous and have the audacity to say I’m ‘in love with someone else!’” You spit out your words bitterly.

“I’m not fucking jealous! I’m fucking hurt! You’re cheating!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the pettiness of the argument. You know there's a reason behind his unreasonableness, but he doesn’t have the right to hurt you with his words.

He’s blinded by anger, though. He doesn’t have boundaries when something takes what he loves. He’s hurt, obviously, but he was too insecure to truly confide in the real reason for his distress. Now he’s angered the both of you, now he’s crumbled the foundation. He’s pulled the relationship apart at the seams, breaking the promise and splintering one relationship after another. He knows, in some way, though, that he’s right. He knows because if he weren’t then he wouldn’t be as hurt as he is.

“You’re a fucking child, Harry.” You cross your arms, grabbing your bag that was sitting on the chair in the corner. “Find me when you grow the fuck up.” You open the door of the bedroom, slamming it and marching down the stairs angrily.

You’ve caught the attention of the rest of his family. The two of you were up there for a good twenty minutes; you’d left Tom wondering what was happening and if things were okay. He could see now that things weren’t. He could also see that you were crying and he moved over to comfort you but you shoved him off, declining his embrace, knowing it would only make you feel worse because of what Harry had said.

You put your free hand up, gesturing for him to stop and back off. You’re gripping your bag tightly as you pull out your keys. You hold yourself back from slamming the front door, knowing you didn’t want to make an entire scene at Nikki’s house.

They watch from the doorway. They watch you slam your car door, burst into tears once you start the car. They watch as you drive off. The minute your car is out of view, Tom marches upstairs, ready to get to the bottom of what happened and why you’re so hurt. He doesn’t bother knocking on Harry’s door.

“What the fuck, man?” Harry exasperates, looking to his brother with wild eyes.

“I should be asking you that,” He slams the door. “What did you do to Y/N?” Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Of course that’s why you’re here.”

“I’m here because she just ran out crying and I deserve to know why!” “You don’t deserve anything from me, Tom.” Harry spits out. They’re yelling at each other. He wishes things were different.

“Fuck that, Harry. You know I’m her best friend. I deserve to know.”

“Why are you her best friend?” He screams out. Tom goes quiet at the question, wanting to hear more, wanting to understand where he was coming from. “My entire life, I spent in your shadow. I had to normalize girls automatically wanting you more than me. An-and the minute I get something that’s finally mine- some thing that actually wanted me for once, you question why I’m angry about her also wanting you? No, fuck you, Tom.” His words are clear and crisp and his eyes are drowning in salty tears. He wants to swallow his feelings, push them away and blink his tears gone. But he can’t. “I thought finding someone was about falling in love and growing into soulmates or some shit. That’s all she ever talked about when we first started dating! It was always ‘best friends to lovers makes for the best couple’ and ‘falling in love with your best friend is the best thing in the world.’ And at first, I actually had the nerve to think she was talking about me. But now I know I’m just her boyfriend- I’m not her best friend, because that position is already filled.”

He eyes Tom up and down as his face loses its tense expression. He struggles to get a breath, gasping as more tears come out. Tom is silent and Harry assumes the conversation is over. He shoves past Tom, knocking into his shoulder as he runs out, slamming the door and trapping himself into the bathroom. He can barely breathe, barely see clearly through the waterworks.

Tom realizes why Harry lashed out, why he grew insecure. But he can’t place who’s in the wrong, who should make the first move and apologize first. He also realizes Harry is so upset about this because he loves you so much. He’d never seen his brother feel so strongly for someone. He realizes he might’ve taken that away from him.

And suddenly, he realizes neither of you are in the wrong. You’re both right in your own ways. He realizes he’s been in the wrong this whole time. He realizes he’s making this love story about himself. He’s torn his beloved brother up, questioned what was supposed to be set in stone.

Maybe Harry was right; maybe he didn’t deserve anything from Harry. Maybe Harry was the one who deserved the explanation.

Why did you get what’s his?

[kozumekenza]

on my mind :: three

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.0k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: alcohol, profanity, talk of sex, gets a little bit nsfw at the end (heavy kissing)

author’s note: I officially have an update schedule and final chapter count for this! It will update on tues/thurs at 6pm pdt, with a final chapter count of eight. I’m also planning on writing a few bonus chapters that are nsfw to add a bit to the story, but they won’t be a “necessary” read and will also be able to be read as one-shots. Thank you everyone for reading and for all of the support so far! 

After the disaster that was your phone call with Osamu (the audacity of Miya Atsumu), the rest of your day went smoothly. You met the rest of the players (you were thrilled to see Aran) and went home at the end of the day, feeling pretty good about your new job. If everything between you and Suna stayed a secret, then everything would be fine. 

Unfortunately, you forgot to account for the fact that you were surrounded by a bunch of men (boys, in your opinion) in their twenties, who thought more with a certain appendage on their lower halves than they did with their brains. This convenient fact was made apparent on Wednesday afternoon, during a routine stretching break. 

You were hovering around Atsumu, Aran, and Suna, working on Aran’s shoulder with one earbud in, humming along to some pop song with the other ear not-so-subtly listening in to the boys’ conversation. 

Suna sat his water bottle down and turned towards Aran. “Dude, I had the best and worst fucking night on Saturday. I told ‘Tsumu already, but d’ya wanna hear?”

You kept your head down, focusing on your task while praying that Aran would say no. Apparently, Atsumu had kept his promise and didn’t tell anyone but his twin brother, because Aran nodded his head. You internally cringed, sneaking a glance at Atsumu out of the corner of your eye. The smug bastard had a grin on his face and even had the nerve to look at you and fucking wink. He was lucky that you were already willing to keep this a secret at all costs, or else you would’ve slapped that look off of his face. 

“Alright, so I went out Saturday night to get drunk before practices started, and I met this sexy chick at the bar. I don’t remember much, ‘cause I was fucking wasted, but I took her back to my place.”

Aran held his fist up for a fist bump. “Score, dude!”

Suna rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first too. Except I woke up the next morning, and she was gone. Left her bra and skirt at my place, but get this, she stole my fucking National Team jersey!”

Atsumu was uncharacteristically quiet, but Aran filled the silence with a “Damn, bro.” You winced at Suna’s storytelling, yet internally thanked the universe that he didn’t remember that it was you.

“Yeah, the managers are gonna kill me when I ask for a new one. It’s all good though, ‘cause I’m pretty sure the sex was fucking amazing.”

You couldn’t help the choking sound that left your throat and the coughing that followed. Suna handed you his water bottle as you sat down, a concerned look on his face. Meanwhile, Atsumu was fucking laughing. You greedily drank from the bottle, shooting Atsumu a glare. 

After thanking Suna and handing the bottle back, you walked over to the bench to prepare for the second half of afternoon practice. You did not want to stick around them for any longer and listen to any more of Suna’s narrative. 

A large arm slung itself across your shoulders, and you threw an elbow back without looking. Atsumu clutched his ribs and winced as you turned around, seething.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Miya Atsumu. First you wink, then you laugh?”

He stood back up, grinning. “It’s not my fault that it’s so funny.”

“Miya Atsumu! My failure of a love life is not funny.”

“So you admit that he’s a part of your love life?”

“Shut the fuck up, Miya.”

---

Luckily, there was no repeat of the events that occurred Wednesday, at least that you heard. You steadily avoided Suna, not wanting to hear him talk about the “hot chick that stole his jersey” again. Your avoidance plan worked fine, until he began seeking you out. He started stopping by your office when you weren’t there. Iwaizumi always relayed the message to you when you passed him, mentioning the “tall middle blocker that keeps looking for you”. It wasn’t until Friday, when Suna somehow injured his ankle, that you had a moment alone with him. As you worked on wrapping his ankle up, he surveyed your office.

“I’m surprised you still have any photos with me.”

His words made you pause your work, following his eyes to the framed photo on your desk. It was a photo of you, Suna, Aran, and the twins, taken just a week before you left with no warning. “Why?”

“Well I know we didn’t end things on the best of terms. I thought you would’ve destroyed anything to do with me by now.”

You hummed thoughtfully and resumed your work. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He looked at you quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m an athletic trainer for a volleyball team because of you, Suna.” You watched his knitted brows. “When I fell in love with you, I also fell in love with volleyball. It was the only piece of our relationship I allowed myself to keep when I left.”

He looked at you as if he was seeing you for the first time. “I never realized.”

“That was my intention.”

He sat back once again and allowed you to finish the wrap. “All done. You know the treatment plan; be careful, ice it, rest often. Let me know if it keeps bothering you.”

Suna stood up, testing the wrap. “Thank you, y/n. It feels better already.”

You gave him a small smile.  “You’re welcome, Suna.”

He walked towards the door, but stopped before opening it. “You know, I was serious about my offer the other day,” he turned to face you, “If you’re free tonight, we should grab drinks.”

You carefully considered his offer. You did miss having Suna around, and it couldn’t hurt to reconnect. There didn’t have to be anything romantic about it, you could just get a friend back. On the other hand, the last time you drank with Suna, you ended up in his bed. However, if you exercised a little self-control, you were sure it would be fine.

“I’m free tonight.”

He smiled. “Great. Send me your address, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

You watched the door shut behind him as he left. This was either going to be the best or worst decision you ever made. 

---

It was the worst decision. It was 7:30, and you still hadn’t figured out what to wear. What were you supposed to wear when you went to a bar with your ex-boyfriend turned (maybe?) friend, who you accidentally slept with last week? You texted Yachi, but you knew Friday nights were her date nights with her girlfriend, Kiyoko. Still, you prayed that she would answer and prayed even more that Kiyoko was with her. Kiyoko always knew what to wear. 

Your prayers were answered when you received a text approving an outfit you had sent only a few minutes ago. Thank God for Yachi and her friendship. You quickly redressed and finished your makeup before the doorbell rang. You threw on a pair of heels and opened the door to find Suna on the other side, a shy smile on his face. 

“Hey, y/n. You look really nice.”

You grinned at him as you shut your door and locked it. “You do too.” It wasn’t a lie; Suna looked amazing. You had forgotten how well he dressed, as you were always seeing him in practice clothes. He wore slim-fit gray jeans with a loose black button-up. You could see a gold chain peeking out from where the top was unbuttoned, and if you weren’t so dedicated to not sleeping with him again, you would have jumped him right there in the hallway. 

You walked side by side to the same bar you had met in last week (although you didn’t mention this), catching up with each other. He talked about his experience on his pro team and how he felt when he received the letter from the National Team, while you told him about your college experience and moving to Tokyo by yourself. It felt nice, normal even, to be able to simply talk with Suna. It was something neither of you were very good at when you were together, and it was refreshing to know that the two of you could simply chat with one another now. 

The two of you sat at the bar near the dance floor when you arrived. You sipped on a martini and listened to Suna talk about everything that you had missed in the eight years you had been apart. You had expected your conversations to be awkward, but they flowed naturally and never stopped. Before you knew it, you were on your fourth drink and all of your self-control had been thrown out the window.

“C’mon, Suna, I wanna dance.” You grabbed his wrist in an effort to pull him off of his barstool and onto the dance floor with you.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, y/n? You’ve had quite a bit to drink.”

“Of course I’m sure!”

Suna began to stand. “Okay, I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

You turned to look back up at him. “How could I regret any of this?”

He looked shocked at your words, but before he could formulate a response, you were pulling him to the center of the dance floor and reaching for a shot from one of the waitresses. 

“Drink with me, Sunarin!” You didn’t know what switch had flipped in your brain (yes you did, it was the alcohol), but suddenly, all you wanted was for Suna to get drunk and ignore the rest of the world with you. He obliged you and took a shot, not even grimacing at the taste of straight liquor. 

You began to jump around in time to the pulsing beat, Suna watching you, but not dancing. You allowed him to simply watch with dark eyes until you were both on your third shot, and then you had enough.

“Sunarin, I wanna dance with you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even sticking your bottom lip out for good measure. Drunk you had no shame, whatsoever. He seemed hesitant, but you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips, pushing your chest flush with his. You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and played with the ends of his hair. 

“I missed you.” The words fell unbidden from your lips, and although there was some part of your brain that told you that you were making a big mistake, you ignored it and listened to your heart. “I really missed you, Sunarin.”

You looked up at Suna through your eyelashes and felt his breath catch. “You don’t call me Rintarou anymore.” His eyes were filled with longing and sadness, and you looked away so that you wouldn’t drown in them. 

“Formalities, I guess.” The emotion in his eyes disappeared and he hummed, grabbing both of you another shot. After setting the glasses down, his hands found their way back to your hips. You didn’t want his eyes to look blank like this, but you didn’t like the sadness either. You wanted Suna to be happy, you wanted him to want you. So you threw all caution to the wind.

You pulled his head down towards you until your lips were only centimeters apart and whispered to him.

“I want you, Rintarou.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a scorching kiss while pulling your hips closer. You grinded on him to the beat of the song while trying to keep up with his passionate kisses. It was a mix of tongue and teeth, full of enough longing to make up for the eight years you had been separated. 

He began to kiss down your neck, pausing long enough at your ear to whisper a proposition.

“D’ya wanna go back to my place?”

You considered it for a millisecond. You knew, in the back of your mind, that this was exactly what you were scared was going to happen. You also knew that you wanted this more than anything else. 

You nodded your head, and Suna entwined his hand with yours and pulled you out onto the streets of Tokyo.

taglist: @sunasexual @call-me-lulu @ntimacy @circleglasses​ @porcolie​ @keikotaro

[melzula]

The Throne

part one

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: so excited to finally be getting into the Koa storyline with you guys! I hope you enjoy ♡

summary: though a party is held in her honor, the Princess doesn’t feel welcomed home just yet. but will the help of some old friends bring her one step closer to taking back the throne from the scheming Koa?

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Your crown weighs heavily upon your head as you walk through the palace hallways, chin held high but shoulders tense as you pass by the guards and officials who look at you with silent judgement in their eyes. None of the faces are familiar as all of the men you’d known growing up had been sent off to war and killed in battle. The new recruits now in charge of protecting the royal family all had been assigned by Koa, and you’d have to be blind—sorry, Toph— to ignore the malice and resentment in their hard set gazes as they watched the girl undeserving of her title waltz by as if she hadn’t abandoned her people for the enemy. Koa had made it adamantly clear that the so-called Princess cared not for her tribe but rather her own selfish wants and desires, and they believed him.

Outside the palace servants and cooks and decorators all scramble by in preparation for the party being held in your honor; your mother had insisted on a welcoming party to celebrate your return, though you doubted many people shared her sentiment. There were a handful of members from the tribe who were so glad to have you back, who showered you in warmth and thanked you for aiding the Avatar in ending the war so that their husbands and fathers could return safely, and little girls who shyly tugged at the skirts of your dresses and expressed their admiration for you and their desire to one day be a strong, fierce fighter like you. But there were also those who overlooked your accomplishments in order to focus upon your faults and your mistakes, who agreed that you were not ready to take control of the throne and some who even went as far as to say you were undeserving of it, that a water bending princess who strayed from healing and trained in fighting was untraditional. And of course, there was the group of indifference who needed extra persuasion to decide whether they were for or against you. Overall, the party didn’t seem like the best idea, but your mother was adamant that you use the opportunity to reconnect with your people, so you obliged. You’d survived a strike from a crazed Azula, so surely you could handle this.

“Princess,” one of the servants calls, bowing before you in respect before handing you a neatly tied scroll, “a messenger hawk from the Fire Nation was sent for you with this scroll.”

“Thank you,” you nod, containing your smile as you politely dismiss her before opening the scroll to be greeted by familiar handwriting.

“Princess,

I know it’s only been a week since you’ve left but I already miss you greatly. It’s odd not having you by my side, but I know you’re doing great things back in the south. I hope to see you soon once I have all of my affairs in order, though that could be some time. Until then, expect a messenger hawk at least once a week. Take care, y/n. I love you.

- Zuko”

“Oh, Zuko,” you sigh softly, clutching the letter to your chest in a form of comfort, “I really wish you were here right now.”

It was definitely going to be a long night.

~~~

The steady beat of the drums reverberate through the walls and pound in your chest as you anxiously adjust your headpiece and prepare to make your grand entrance. The beads that hang from your jewelry click against one another with your movements, a calming sound that brings you comfort and reassurance despite your nerves, and you are only allowed a single moment to hide your scarred hands underneath the pure white fabric of your gloves before the two guards begin to escort you out to greet your tribe.

Your mother sits at the grand table amongst the elders of the tribe, a proud smile on her face as she watches you emerge from the palace with grace and dignity despite how nervous she knows you are, and as soon as your presence is announced you are greeted with an obligatory round of applause from your people. Koa rises, a bowl of black paint in his hand and unreadable expression on his lips; he does not bow to you as he is expected to, but no one other than you seems to mind.

“It is with great honor that I bestow the mark of welcoming upon our Princess,” he announces as he dips a finger into the black paint and presses four dots on each cheek before drawing an intricate swirl on your forehead meant to represent the tides washing back to the shore— a symbolic mark of your return home. “May she be welcomed with warmth and gratitude after her three year long journey from home.”

You smile proudly, waving to your tribe as some cheer and others politely clap and most share looks of uncertainty with one another. The return of their princess was now official, but one unspoken question remained: who would take the throne now? You startle at the sudden weight that falls upon your shoulder, Koa maintaining a neutral expression as he leans nearer and whispers in your ear.

“Remember Princess, this paint won’t last forever. Every welcome washes away eventually.”

He pulls away from you like nothing, leaving you stunned and stiff and with no time to recover as he smiles and announces, “Let the festivities begin!”

You are given no chance to retaliate or fight back as you are suddenly pulled every which way by your guests. You are offered various dishes, asked for endless dances, and you can’t even count how many times someone has asked to see your scars. It seems like hours pass before you are finally given a chance to breathe, seating yourself at the table and devouring your plate of puffin-seal sausages— dancing had made you absolutely famished. It’s lonely and, frankly, quite intimidating sitting at the head table by yourself, almost emphasizing the fact that despite being the Princess you aren’t exactly welcomed back, at least not completely.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A shy voice asks. You quickly swallow the large chunk of sausage in your mouth with a grimace before turning your attention to the boy in front of you who greets you with a friendly smile and sheepish wave.

“Kai!” You exclaim, happy to have a familiar face to keep you company. “You’ve grown so much, I almost didn’t recognize you. Of course you can sit.”

“Thanks, y/n,” the boy says before seating himself beside you. Kai was the silent, soft spoken son of Koa, the boy you would have married had you not ran away. Unlike his father, Kai was good company and never once gave you any trouble. He used to bring you colorful fish scales when you were children, and because his father was your father’s advisor you often spent time together as kids. You got along well, but you never saw him as nothing more than a friend despite how often your parents tried to get you together.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Kai. I’m in great need of a friend,” you admit with a faint smile.

“Yeah, these parties are mostly for the adults if I’m being honest. But it’s nice to see you, too. You look really different. Uh, good different, of course.”

“It’s been some time since we’ve last seen each other,” you note thoughtfully, your solemn gaze focusing upon the festivities before you. “So much has changed.”

“It isn’t so different. Now that the war has ended the men are back and we can start rebuilding. The outer villages should probably receive the most attention considering how small they’ve gotten and how little resources they have, but my dad says we should focus on the capital tribe first. If we’re weak then the smaller tribes don’t even stand a chance. At least that’s what he says, anyway.”

“I agree with you,” you say, turning your attention to him then with an apologetic look on your face. “Listen, I know you were originally promised my hand in marriage, and I’m sorry for running out on you. I didn’t want to hurt you, but an arranged marriage wasn’t part of my destiny, and if I hadn’t ran away I never would have found myself or became the person I am today. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kai laughs quietly, awkwardly tugging at the collar of his coat. “I never really wanted to marry you anyway.”

“Wait, what?”

“My dad was the one who came up with the idea. Ever since we were kids he’d been trying to convince your dad that an arranged marriage between us would benefit the tribe, but Chief Tukon wasn’t exactly thrilled by the prospect,” Kai explains offhandedly, as if his revelation wasn’t incriminating evidence that would prove his father was up to something. “My dad was really persistent though, and once your dad was gone he convinced your mom it would be a good idea to have someone there to look after and protect you now that your father was gone. Normally a marriage like that would be untraditional, but he said the circumstances of the situation made the proposal an exception, so she accepted. Honestly, I was kind of relieved when you ran away and the wedding was called off. I mean, no offense, you’re great, but I like us better as friends.”

“Me too,” you murmur quietly, your mind reeling at the newfound information Kai has given you. All this time you had assumed the marriage proposal had been your parents doing, so to find out that it had been Koa who had been so persistent in your marrying of his son only confirmed the fact that he had been after the throne since the beginning much like you’d suspected. Regaining the throne from Koa was going to be much harder that you initially presumed, he wouldn’t give away his power that easily, and you knew then that you wouldn’t be able to do this alone.

You rise suddenly from the table, startling Kai who watches you curiously and blushes at the chaste kiss you press to his cheek.

“I have to go, but thank you so so much for keeping me company. You have no idea how much you’ve just helped me,” you explain quickly before rushing off and sneaking away from the party, leaving Kai flustered and a bit dumbfounded.

“Uh, you’re welcome...?”

~~~

You watch the early morning sunrise from beyond the horizon, the golden rays of sunshine sparkling along the crystal blue ocean and the outer walls of the palace and reflecting off the irises of your eyes. If your calculations are correct then they should be here any minute now. You’d sent the messenger hawk with a letter of urgency for assistance shortly after your conversation with Kai, and since that night you’d anxiously been awaiting the arrival of your allies. A ship approaches in the distance and you suck in a breath, wrapping your cloak (Zuko’s cloak, actually) tighter around your frame as the icy air crystallizes almost painfully in your lungs before subsiding. They’re here.

The ship pulls up silently to the dock before lowering its ramp, and tears begin to well in your eyes at the sight of the siblings who are quick to rush towards you with open arms and wide smiles.

“Y/n!” Sokka exclaims, lifting you up off the ground in a bone crushing hug before setting you back down on your feet so that Katara may do the same.

“I’ve missed you both so much, thank you for coming on such short notice,” you say with a teary eyed smile, shifting your gaze from Sokka to Katara. “I’m sorry to have pulled you away from Aang and your work on the Harmony Restoration Movement but I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Don’t apologize. As much as I love spending time with Aang, this is more important.”

“Yeah, we left as soon as we got your message,” Sokka agrees. “I can’t believe that jerk would treat you like that after everything you’ve done for our tribe!”

“I wish more people shared your sentiment,” you say with a weak smile. “I know Koa’s up to no good, but I need the proof to convince everyone else.”

“Don’t worry, Princess. Detective Sokka is on the case!” He announces firmly only for both you and Katara to shush him. It is early, after all, so most of the tribe is still asleep, and you can’t have anyone know about your plan to remove Koa from the throne.

“What my brother means to say is we’ve got your back,” Katara says with a comforting smile.

“Thank you,” you breathe, tufts of air blowing past your lips and escaping into the air. “And you told no one about why I invited you here?”

“As far as Aang and Zuko are concerned, we’re here helping you sort through your father’s old belongings and reorganizing the palace.”

“Though, I have to admit, I feel like you maybe should have told your boyfriend about this,” Sokka notes offhandedly. You frown.

“This is water tribe business, I can’t bother Zuko with something like this, not when he has his own nation to run and rebuild. Unless things take a drastic turn we won’t be telling Zuko about Koa until it’s over and done with,” you instruct, earning head nods from an understanding Katara and a reluctant Sokka.

“Alright,” he finally sighs. “So what’s first on the agenda?”

“Katara and I are going to have to look through Koa’s things for any evidence or plans he has in regards to taking over the throne permanently. Sokka, I’m going to need you to blend in with his followers because spirits know he has a lot. Try to gather whatever inside information you can, but don’t blow your cover. You’re going to hear some nasty things about me and you can’t react to them, you have to act like you believe them too,” you explain.

“We can do it,” Katara says firmly. “I’ll even talk to my dad and see if there’s any way he can help.”

“Alright, operation Get Back the Throne is a go!” Sokka says excitedly, and you can’t help the faint smile that pulls at your lips in response.

Getting rid of Koa isn’t going to be easy, not by a long shot, but with Katara and Sokka’s help you know you can put an end to this once and for all.

| tag list: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @zukh03s @taeeemin @user12345321 @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee |

[youalexturnermeon]

Chasing the Past Pt. 1(Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request by Anon: Could I please get a Johnny Lawrence imagine where he and the reader (who is daniels sister) are secretly dating. Maybe like an old flame back in the 80s and now they reconnected?

A/N: Soo, I decided to split this int two parts since I think nobody wants to read 56746 trillion words in one go on here. This is set about 7 years after Karate Kid and Y/N and Johnny hooked up again. Please let me know if you’re up to part 2

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, drugs and sex, reader is of age

Wordcount: 1709

It felt odd to be back again. After all it has been more than five years ago since you set foot onto the Los Angeles’ ground for more than just Christmas or a weekend since you moved to New York. Your mom and Daniel stayed in LA and it looked like a forever solution for them, but unlike your family you were never bound to California. And yet after going to college in New York City and working there for two years the tables have turned and you lost your job. And since New York was a pricy city you had no other way than moving back to your family for a few months before you found another job. You could either stay with your slightly neurotic mom or with your over-protective brother. And although the decision was tough at first because you love both of them as much as they went on your nerves, you decided to stay at Daniel’s last minute. After all, only two years separated you and you had a lot in common.

“What are you doing tonight, (Y/N)?” Daniel asked you as you unpacked the last bit of your suitcase “Because I thought, since it’s your first day back home, we could maybe go out for Sushi.”

“Oh Danny” you sighed and laughed “Are you still not over your Karate and Japan obsession?”

Even with you being the long grown-up younger sibling you still loved to mock your brother. He stuck his tongue out and gave you a light shove.

“Fuck you!”

You shoved him back and then he shoved you again, going back and forth like 10-year olds until eventually you both got tired of it and started laughing.

“No seriously, do you have any plans or – “

“Probably going to a party on the beach, like the old times, catch up with some old friends, Linda asked me. I’m actually leaving in about an hour. We can go tomorrow” you answered casually und started picking out a suitable outfit, you never knew who you could be running in from the past.

“I never understood what you all had with the parties on the beach. They’re lame” “Just because you got your ass kicked during a beach party ‘cause you just couldn’t stand not being the centre of attention for once and simply had to play a noble hero, doesn’t mean the parties are lame” “And just because you had the biggest crush on Lawrence since that day doesn’t mean I was wrong for protecting Ali”

Daniel tried to mock you; but you could hear how hurt he was still, thinking back of his teenage years filled with rivalry and heartbreak. You tried to hide a laugh, if he’d also knew that you and Johnny Lawrence hooked up a couple of weeks before you went to college, he’d probably just kill himself out of pity.

“Still hurts, huh, Danny?” you voiced immediately, and he just shrugged it off.

“Just be careful later, okay? I can also pick you up if you want to.” “I’m not 15 anymore, you don’t have to pick me up. You can also just come with me.” “Nah” Daniel shook his head, “I never liked your friends”

“Your loss, it’s never too late to deal with your past” you joked. When your brother left the room, you put on a tight crop top, slipped in your jean shorts and tied a sweater around your hips in case it got cold. You thought, you looked great – you were ready to go.

____

At first, it felt even weirder to be included in your old friend group that it was being back in L.A. But with the alcohol flowing and joints passing and dancing and talking and goofing around it became more and more natural. You weren’t teenagers anymore; you were all young adults and yet if felt like being 16 all over again. Reconnecting felt great. Maybe after all these years of you telling yourself that you didn’t need California and all the people belonging there, convincing yourself that not one cell in your body longed after the warm climate and carelessness, you finally understood that it was a big lie you told yourself. You missed Reseda and you missed all your friends. With all the sentiment finally catching up after five years of chasing you plus the booze and the exhaustion, you had to take a moment for yourself. You took a short walk along the beach and stood there with your feet being caressed by the waves. You drunkenly smiled to yourself, you could finally be happy again.

“(Y/N) fucking LaRusso!”, you suddenly heard a familiar voice behind you which immediately pulled you right out of your thoughts, “Am I dreaming or is that really the girl that broke my heart?”

You didn’t even have the chance to turn around, you were promptly spun around by strong muscular arms and landed in a tight and warm embrace. A natural laugh echoed through the night. You inhaled the familiar scent of the person with the even more familiar voice and when you looked up you saw this face that could’ve been an angel’s if it wasn’t for the bright blue eyes filled with all the mischief in the world. He looked older than the last time you have seen him, his face was more edged than five years ago; and you might’ve been imagining it; but he also got a little taller.

“Johnny!” you shrieked and wrapped your arms even tighter around him “What are you doing here?”

“A little birdie told me the better LaRusso in back in town and I decided to go and see for myself. Since I couldn’t get a hold of you in over five years. It seems like you have been avoiding me at all costs, no letters, no calls, no visits. And it was successful until now.”

He let go of you and stepped back to get a better look at you. You, too, have changed a lot but now you were the hottest girl in town for Johnny.

“Now you can’t escape me”

“To be honest, I have been avoiding everybody since I moved to New York. I didn’t think Johnny Lawrence had a heart in the first place and especially not one to break it” you said; and you bluntly took his hand and started dragging him back to the gathering where everybody still was drinking and dancing “Let’s go have a drink and catch up”

“What do you mean, you didn’t know if I had a heart and that you broke it” he laughed and devotedly let himself being hauled behind you. He would let you do anything to him, right now. He missed you and never wanted this moment to end.

“At first, the little LaRusso seduces me, gives me some kind of victory over the shit LaRusso, gifts me the best month of my life with the best sex of my life and without a word disappears to the other side of the country. This shattered my little heart into pieces”

“Fuck off, Johnny Lawrence” you grinned “As if this somehow tickled you in any sense. Let’s just get drunk and forget about it”

Johnny was hurt you didn’t believe him because for once he did not lie about this. You leaving, really left him all broken for a few weeks and he still loved to remember the time you spent together. But since this was ancient history now, he was okay with just getting drunk with you.

“Hey guys, look what the cat dragged in” you loudly exclaimed when you and Johnny, still holding your hand, arrived in midst of all the partying people “Johnny fucking Lawrence! Can you fucking believe this???”

“That Johnny Lawrence you were crushing on since you first saw him kicking your brother’s ass?” Linda, your oldest friend from high school, the one who took you to that party, asked sarcastically whilst handing you and Johnny red cups filled with booze. You excitedly nodded.

“Yeah, I was the one who told him that the less famous (Y/N) LaRusso is back”

“No way!” you shrieked and threw your lightly drunken self on Linda, hugging her “Thank you!”

“Jesus, I didn’t know, (Y/N) would be that happy to see me” Johnny whispered to Linda when you let go of her and shifted your attention to other friends wanting to know about you and the infamous Johnny Lawrence who still seemed to be a star amongst all although everyone finished high school years ago.

“To be honest, I thought she’d jump on my throat just like her big brother if she sees me here”

“Don’t worry, I got her drunk enough before you arrived” Linda said.

“Thank you!” Johnny mouthed; he was the happiest he had been in years. He took a deep breath and spun you around, so for the second time today you laded directly in his embrace which now turned into a dance. And to be fair, the night couldn’t get any better for you either. Johnny and you laughed and talked and drank and danced, getting closer and closer to each other with every song. And the rest of the night turned into a big wonderful blur.

___

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was your terribly aching head. You didn’t even open your eyes yet and you already knew how terrible of a hangover that would be. You tried not to move but even the slightest motion that involved nothing more than breathing shot a bullet of pain right to your brain. Finally, when you dared to slightly open your eyes you realized that your head was resting on a muscular chest, softly falling and rising. You were not alone and were not in your bed and especially not in Daniel’s apartment. Curiously you lifted the covers that were lazily thrown over two bodies and a silent “FUCK” escaped your lips. You were completely naked and the athletic man on whose chest you were resting was too bare ass naked.

“Fuck!” you whispered again; and you would’ve had laughed if you knew that it wouldn’t cause you any pain and blurry glimpses of the night came suddenly back to you.

Click for Part 2

[ifeellikeameowster]

Raise Hell - Creativitwins and Darkside!Roman Fic

Fic Summary: After a brooding session in his room after the events of SVS2, Roman decides Fuck It! and visits his brother Remus' room. As the two brothers reconnect, Roman ends up making a startling decision.

Warnings: Roman Angst, Self Loathing, Self Deprecating, Darkside!Roman, Gore, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Innuendos (Basically Remus just being Remus)

Pairings: None!

Wordcount: 7k+ (almost 8k)

Author's Note:

I started writing this fic immediately after SVS2 so it's canon complacent until after that, where it branches off into this AU! This was before both Flirting With Social Anxiety and Working Through Intrusive Thoughts came out, so please just consider this an alternate "What If?" scenario! (Also this just goes to show you how much I procrastinate when it comes to writing whoops lol.)

Roman sat curled up on his bed. Sitting in the same position that he had been for the past two days or so. He couldn't exactly recall how long he had been there holed up in his room, actually.

The only thing he could recall was the disappointed looks on their faces, their harsh words whether intentional or not, and the feeling of his whole world seemingly crumbling down around him. It was all too much too soon, and after his outburst he had sunken into a numb state of suspension. Waiting to feel anything other than anger, grief, and disappointment. All three of which were mainly pointed dangerously at his own self like a bunch of daggers repeatedly striking where they knew it would hurt most.

Patton had stopped by shortly after he had first sunk out, yes. But Roman could hardly hear what the fatherly side was saying to him over the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat constantly reminding him it had been recently struck through. Something about everything being okay, he thinks? Yet how could Patton have said that when absolutely nothing was okay right now? In fact, he doubted anything could be okay ever again. Not after…well, after he had apparently messed up again.

It was starting to become a habit now, all of these stupid mistakes. And how could such a perfect prince as him make such mistakes? He was supposed to be a paragon of perfection! An idol for all aspiring heroes alike! The pinnacle of heroism and all that is good in the world! Instead he was just...just wrong. Always wrong. Always wrong no matter who's side he took or who he believed in or what he said or didn't say. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

But if he wasn't a perfect prince...if he wasn't a hero...if he wasn't right...then what exactly was he? What was left? Well, nothing, really. He had put all of his eggs in one basket and now the littlest breeze had apparently sent it toppling over.

Wait a minute...If he had nothing left, then that meant he had nothing left to lose, right? Which meant all of his old restrictions on himself, all of his walking the fine line and all of him staying on the right side of the fence- All of it was meaningless. It was doing nothing, just like him.

He slowly unfurled his body from it's curled up position and turned his gaze towards the closet on the far side of his room. The door was dingier compared to the rest of the elegant and ornately designed bedroom. Scratch marks marred its greyed, wooden surface and a sign was tapped loosely and half-hazardly to the middle. "Danger: Nightmare Zone. Keep out!" It read in bright red lettering.

"Keep out, huh...I must have been really mad when I wrote that." Roman glanced down to his hands, which he had clenched. "But now I'm just empty...so what's the use in obeying a stupid sign that I put up there myself?" He unfisted his hands and looked back to the imposing closet door. "What could be more dangerous in there than staying here and stewing in my own thoughts?"

He slowly stood up, his legs tingling from being in one position for far too long. He made his way over to the closet door. Slowly. Cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder as if someone was going to walk in on him at any moment. As his hand grasped the handle, he felt himself gulp. Did he really want to do this?

"…"

Well, what else was there to do?

He pushed the door open and stepped into the closet full of old clothes. All of his new princely adornments were actually being stored in a mahogany wardrobe beside his nightstand. These clothes were...they belonged to...Well, someone who didn't exist. At least not anymore. He pushed his way through dusty and moth-bitten clothes as if he was pushing through the undergrowth of a dense jungle. As he neared his destination, the place grew darker and smelled more and more of mold.

He finally arrived at another door. This one was more well kept than the last, with golden trimmings and an intricate door handle. He took a deep breath to steal his nerves before pushing it open.

He stepped out into another bedroom. This one had moss in the corners, cobwebs on the ceiling, and ivy climbing it's walls. Even still, it was much tidier than he had been expecting. It gave off more of a wild feeling rather than a dirty one. Just as he was about to take another step to inspect further, there was a mace in his face.

He hadn't even flinched back, he was so tired and dazed. Roman sucked in a nervous breath and looked to the wielder of the weapon.

Remus was standing frozen in place, his face flickering between emotions. Eyes twitching. It appeared like he had intended to knock him out again...just like last time in the living room...but something must have made him pause.

"You've been crying." He hissed, less of a question and more of an accusation.

Roman blinked, confused, before reaching up to poke the skin underneath his eyes. Sure enough, it was puffy. He bet if he looked in a mirror they'd be red-rimmed as well. But he didn't even want to see his own face right now. He huffed out in irritation. "So what if I have?"

Remus' face flickered once more before settling into a firm stare as he slowly lowered his morning star mace away from Roman's head. He was being oddly still and slow in his motions, and the difference between this and his usual rambunctiousness was making Roman's skin crawl with nerves. "Why?"

"Why?" Roman repeated after him, bristling, "Why do you even care why?"

Remus blinked, seeming to come out of his previous mood. "You tell me Prince Smarmy! You came into my turf." He rested his mace behind his shoulders and started rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots.

"I…" Roman's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know. It's just the last place I could go, I guess?" He shrugged before waving a dramatic arm, "But if you don't want me here either, then just say it to my face!"

Remus tilted his head curiously before leaning forward "Oh, I can do way better than that, brohide." And with that, he snapped his fingers and the room flipped upside down.

Roman gasped as they fell through the air. The room seemed to twist and morph around them. Until finally, he had landed roughly on his own fluffy white floor rug. Remus, however, had fallen through the fancy canopy of his bed. Tearing a large hole through it and landing in a heap on the covers.

"Hey, my bed!" He shouted, offended beyond belief.

"Oh tough titty." Remus chastised as he picked up a golden laced, red silk pillow. He started plucking at it's loose threads. "I bet you have a ton of those ugly tent things."

"They're called canopies, you uncultured swine!"

Roman got up in a huff and dusted off and straightened his rumpled clothes. He sent a glare over to Remus as he did so. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?~" He sing-songed annoyingly back.

"Teleport us in such an unruly manner!"

"Hmmm…" He flopped over on to his back and started doing snow angel motions. "Why'd you go in my room?~Huh? Huh?"

"Wha- I- I asked you first!"

"I asked you second!!" He rolled over on the bed to grin up at Roman, still clutching the poor, abused pillow.

"Ugh, fine!" Roman threw his hands up in the air and moved to grab his vanity chair. He pulled it over to sit in front of the bed. "I just didn't want to be in my own room right now, okay??"

Remus frowned with pursed lips and sat up, scooching forward on the bed. "But it's your room, numbnuts."

"Well maybe I don't want to be near me right now…Um, wait. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Probably not! But-" He cupped a hand over his mouth and loudly whispered conspiratorially, "I can rip your head off your body and throw it to the side for you so you're not close to it anymore?"

"No that's...That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Fucking party pooper!" Remus threw his hands up then abandoned the pillow he had been holding to riffle curiously through the rest. "Do you not keep a dagger under your pillow??"

"What? No, of course not! Who would do that?"

"Me, duh! For security reasons, bitch boy."

"Well I'm obviously more sensible than that. I keep swords under the bed like a sane person."

"Wait, really?!" Remus threw himself over the side of the bed to look underneath it. "Holy shit, nice!" He rustled through them for a moment before grabbing a sleek black flamberge by it's blade and pulling it up. "I'm keeping this!"

"I would protest that but you've already gotten your filthy blood all over it and that sword is a particular bitch to clean."

"Sibling souvenir!" Proclaimed Remus as he stabbed it into his stomach for safe keeping.

"What on earth are you doing? Why would you stab yourself??"

"To make sure it doesn't go anywhere! Oh, and to test it's stabby powers."

"You know in hindsight, I shouldn't have even asked."

"Speaking of askings of questions-ing, why did you visit my room of all places? Needed to get rid of some trash? Because I'm taking if you're offering. I could always use more decorations!"

"Remus, you rat bastard, I saw that your room was cleaner than you let people believe it to be. If you did take any of my trash you'd probably organize it into the proper bins and everything."

Remus gasped and put an offended hand over his chest. "How dare you! My room is perfectly and gloriously trashy and stinky, just like me."

"Mhmm, sure it is."

A shuriken flew past the side of his head and embedded itself right in the face of one of his many Disney posters.

"Just answer my question!!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Roman raised his hands placatingly before dropping them to grip at his knees nervously. "I, well, I didn't want to be alone anymore…"

"And? You couldn't just visit the other lamo light bitches in the living-dead room?"

"They, um." He sighed before looking over at his posters. Prince Charming smiled brightly back at him, even with a weapon digging into his forehead. "They don't want to be around me. They don't want me. Not anymore. If they ever did. They have him, after all. Both of them."

"Him. Them. Stop playing the pronoun game already and get fucking on with it!"

"He has Janus now! Thomas chose Janus! Patton chose Janus! They chose Janus! They both chose Janus...over me…" Roman blurted out. The words were spilling out now, unstoppable. He sniffled as he felt the tears threatening to fall once more as well. He didn't even realize he had any left to cry. "I chose Thomas. Thomas chose Patton. Patton chose Janus. No one ever chooses me! No one ever takes my side!"

"Apparently, I'm always the one in the wrong..." He ran his shaky hands over his cheeks, desperately trying to push any tears that appeared away. To keep them from falling anymore. Hadn't he cried enough? "I was wrong about Virgil. I was wrong with how I talked to Logan. I was wrong about the breakup. I was wrong about the wedding. Now I was wrong about Deceit- no, Janus- ugh...Everything I do is wrong!"

He lowered his hands again to dig his fingers back into his knees. Roman drew in another shaky breath, trying to calm himself after the outburst. He glanced nervously up at Remus to gauge his reaction to his brother's crazed rambles.

Remus had leaned forward to hear him better over his sobs and shaky voice, almost tipping over the edge of the bed. He had his nails digging into Roman's comforter, and Roman was afraid he was about to rip holes into it. He already had a canopy to replace after all, he didn't want to have to replace that as well! They stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments more, one at a loss on what to say next and the other trying to process the onslaught of new information. Finally, Remus let go of the comforter, slid off the bed, and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs splayed out.

"So what you're saying is...wait, Jan Jan the Banana Man actually told you his name?"

"Well, he more so told Thomas and Patton it and...I just happened to be there too?"

"Huh. Never thought he'd tell anyone else. Well, not after Virgil…was Virgil there?"

"No. Unfortunately Virgil wasn't there to back me up. If he would have even taken my side at all...And Logan was...there in textbox spirit?"

"What'd nerd-a-lerd say?"

"He…well, I wasn't really paying much attention to- I was panicking okay! But I heard enough." He looked to the side, feeling shame well up in himself again. "Enough to know that he was taking his side, just like everyone else."

He heard a mumbled "Damn pronoun name again-" before Remus clapped his hands together with a loud boom that echoed through the large room. "Okay! And I can't believe I'm saying this but- tell me the whole story. Top dick to bottom butt."

"Ew." Roman wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

"Just tell me already!!" Annnddd another shuriken whizzed past his head. This time it embedded itself in his dresser. He hoped it hadn't cracked the wood too much...

Thus Roman spun the entire tale, starting at Janus' first appearance and ending with the absolute fiasco between the callback and the wedding that had occurred a couple of days ago...or had it been several? Time had muddied itself in his reclusion. He would take several breaks in his storytelling to go off on self-deprecating tangents that sounded an awful lot like dramatic monologues from some tragic play. More often than not these tangents were cut short by Remus, who would hurry them along with crude nicknames and threats to get back to the main story.

Somehow during this storytelling process both of the brothers had ended up splayed out side by side on top of Roman's fluffy white floor rug. As if they were kids gossiping on the floor at a sleepover. Remus had busied his hands by pulling out locks of the fur from the rug while Roman's own hands gesticulated wildly with the ups and downs of his tale. As he neared the end of the story, Roman curled up to lay on his side so he could face Remus and see his reaction.

"...and then I decided to go to your room. Because I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to stay in my room with my own thoughts any longer...but I didn't want to see any of the other sides, either."

Remus was laying on his stomach, fiddling with the rug and swaying his feet in the air. At hearing the last bit, his feet fell back down to rest on the floor. "...But you wanted to see me?" His voice was the softest Roman had ever heard him speak. It was incredulous and almost...hopeful.

"I-I don't know. I-" Roman diverted his eyes across the room, sweeping over the damage done by them earlier and eventually landing on the dingy and scratched up closet door. He stared at it for a moment in thought before looking back over to Remus. "Do you ever…Ever miss sharing a bedroom?" He murmured.

Remus wrinkled his nose and glared at him, likely upset that he had dodged the question. "Not really. Your taste in stuff is far too Gucci-Gucci-bougie for me."

"No, not that!" Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand, " Not the furniture or anything like that. Just the…the feel of someone else being there too? Knowing that someone else is always there? Someone who's kind of like you but not really? Someone you can talk to when you have no one else?" Roman ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Does that make any sense???"

Remus was still glaring at him, but now his eyebrows twitched with an unseen emotion. "Being brothers?" He hissed.

"What?"

Remus reached over to grab Roman's shoulders and shake him silly. "What you're describing. Is being brothers. What I wanted to be. What you didn't let us be. What you rejected. Shoved into the darkest corner. Placed under a Do Not Enter sign-"

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean it!"

Remus paused in his shaking, several emotions flashing across his face. "Didn't mean it?"

"I know I-" Roman placed his hands over Remus' on his shoulders but didn't push him away and lowered his head in shame. "I acted rashly and perhaps a tad extreme to our new circumstances at the time. But it was for what I thought was the best. I only ever wanted to serve Thomas. I only ever wanted to please them. I never thought- I-" He looked sincerely back up into his brother's eyes. "I never thought about what that would mean for you. What that would do to you. What that would do to us. And for that, I'm sorry."

Remus loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely, staring intensely and attentively at Roman.

"I never actually wanted to push you away. I was just doing so because I thought- Well, okay admittedly I wasn't thinking much at all really but-" His eyes briefly flickered back to the closet door "I didn't want to become a dark side too! I didn't want to not be able to see Thomas. Or to be rejected by the others. I-" He laughed then. A dry, helpless laugh. He shifted to put his head in his hands. "But I guess that happened anyway, didn't it? What sick irony, huh? Maybe it's what I deserve… Maybe it's karmic retribution…"

"..."

"I shoved you away... And now they're shoving me away! I lost a brother so I could keep everyone and everything else in my life but now- now I've lost that, too- Now I have nothing. Now I am no-"

Remus tightened his grip on Roman's shoulders again and pulled him towards himself. He ended up knocking their heads together in the process-

"Ow! What the hell are you-"

-of wrapping his arms around Roman and hugging him to himself.

"You-You're hugging me?"

"You didn't lose a brother…" Remus pouted, as if he was a petulant toddler, "I've always been right fucking here if you'd open your stupid eyes for once."

Roman let out a shuddering breath, feeling an entirely new type of tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He buried his head in Remus' shoulder and gripped onto the back of hid brother's clothes as if he was his last lifeline. He probably was.

Sure the hug was the most uncomfortable one he'd ever had, what with the hilt of the sword in Remus' stomach poking him in his own and his forehead still ringing with the pain from where Remus banged them together, but somehow it was still nice. It still felt like...home.

"...But I thought you hated me?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"You're always calling me names and hitting me with stuff!"

He felt Remus shrug. "You do the same thing."

"You do it first!"

"Eh- that's just what siblings do~~"

"With medieval weapons?!"

"Says the guy with a stash of swords under his bed!~" Remus sing-songed teasingly.

"Oh like you have room to talk- You said you keep daggers under your pillow!"

"Shouldn't everyone? You should keep some under yours too, Mr Whiny Prissy Pants!"

"And there's the name calling again."

"Hey now, you know it's the older siblings job to pick on the younger-"

"But I'm the older sibling! I manifested my form first!"

"Eh, semantics-schmantics! Same diff!"

"You're completely unreasonable!"

"And you're too stuck up!"

Roman let out a growl and smacked a hand over Remus' face, pushing him away and breaking up the hug. Remus let out a huff and reached over to slap the back of Roman's head in retaliation. This caused them to descend into a full on slap fight, looking like a slapstick scene straight out of a comedy movie.

They roughhoused like this, like a pair of bickering elementary schoolers, until they eventually tired themselves out and flipped gracelessly back onto the floor. They both stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds before bursting out into fits of crazed laughter.

"That was the worst hug ever! Hahaha!"

"Hey! I don't have much practice! Heeheehee!"

"Haha! We must look like a couple of insane people lying here!"

"Haha! I knooowww~~ You're room is sooo trashed!~Heehee!"

"Hey! You're the one that trashed it! Hahaha!"

"Well you're the one who invited me here brozilla! Hahahoo!"

"You're the one that brought us here! Hahaheh! I wanted to be in your room! Heh!"

Their laughter eventually died down. But just as Roman was about to drift off into sleep from his position lying on the floor, he heard Remus ask, "Do you still want to go to my room?"

Roman blinked his eyes open. He sat up and looked forlornly around his own bedroom. The thought of staying here seemed lonely, now that he'd finally reunited and reconciled with his brother. And the pictures and posters adorning the walls just reminded him of past memories that only hurt to think about right now. "......Yeah. Yes, actually." He turned to Remus, who had also sat back up, " I know, I know it sounds crazy but-"

"I like crazy!" Remus grinned and raised his fingers in preparation to snap, causing Roman to have a flashback to the previous time he did it.

"Wait! Don't turn the room upside down again! We can just sink through the floor like we normally-"

"Sink through the floor? Okay, if you say so!" His grin widened maniacally and he snapped his fingers.

The floor started to shift and cave in on itself, causing Roman's furniture to all move closer to the center. A hole slowly opened under where the brothers had been sitting that pulled them down into it. Roman screamed as they were both sucked into the abyss.

His scream ended abruptly as he was flung up into Remus' room, the hole now acting as a geyser of sorts. Roman landed in an unruly manner and was knocked out of breath while Remus landed swiftly on his knee before rolling up into a standing position.

"Home, Smelly Home!" He proudly declared with his hands on his hips, either unaware of or uncaring towards his brother's struggle to get up from the floor.

"Shouldn't have opened my big mouth..." Mumbled Roman as he dusted his clothes off and tried to straighten his appearance, only for his work to be completely undone when Remus yanked him into his side and rustled his hair with his elbow. "Hey! Stop that! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair?"

"Eh, it was already messed up anyways." Remus slapped Roman's shoulder, "Now come on slowpoke, I'm gonna give you the grand tour!" Remus then ran off further into his room, causing Roman to have to chase after him in order to keep up.

Remus showed him his bedroom first, which had a mirrored layout to Roman's, but the furniture was darker and more rustic. The decorations looked more like something out of a haunted mansion than a grand palace, like Roman's did. Remus then stopped by his weapons closet, where he finally removed the flamberge sword from his stomach and tossed it haphazardly inside. From what Roman could make out before Remus had shut the door again was that the room looked bigger on the inside than the title 'closet' would suggest. Remus then pointed out a few more small areas of note before eventually leading Roman to the back door.

Every side's room had a front door- where the other sides could enter their room, and a backdoor- where each side could go out of their room and into their own personal section of the mindscape. Most sides referred to it as their 'backyard', of sorts.

Roman followed Remus out of his backdoor and onto a balcony overlooking a dark, twisted forest. The balcony itself was the same design as Roman's own balcony but was made up of black marble instead of white. There were a few cracks here and there, yet it was overall fairly stable. English Ivy crept along the rails and crawled down the side of the castle. There were no stairs in sight, unlike with his own balcony, leading Roman to wonder whether Remus would take the time to climb down the Ivy or simply jump off of the railing in order to enter his backyard.

Remus spread his arms out in a grand gesture before spinning around to sit backwards on the railing, facing Roman. "So, what do ya' think? Badass digs, right?"

Roman, lost in thought and not expecting the question, blurted out the first thing to cross his mind. "We have similar balconies."

Remus raised an amused brow. "No shit, Sher-cock. We're in the same castle. Same castle, same floor plan. Duh."

"Wait, the same castle…?"

Remus shrugged, leaning far enough back on the railing to have Roman worry about him falling over the side of it, "It split when we did. We still share a room and space... it's just-" He waved around a hand dismissively. "Halved, now."

"Ah...so that's the reason we can visit each other without going through our front doors…" Roman walked up to lean forwards on the railing, right beside Remus. "Wonder why I didn't question that sooner?" He rested his chin in his hand with a sigh. "All this time, we were even in the same castle...the same area of the mindscape...and I never- I never even bothered to visit-"

Remus, who had grown bored of the conversation and had started to pick his nose, interrupted Roman's spiral by flicking boogers at him. "Hey now, none of that. You did enough moping back in your own room, you cry baby.*

"Ugh! Ew!" Roman sputtered indignantly and pulled out a doily to wipe his face. "You're disgusting." He huffed.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him and laughed. "If you start saying sad shit again, I'll give you a wet willy." He then leaned towards Roman and started wiggling his fingers menacingly.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, bitch!"

"Well, if you do that, then I'll- Then I'll shove you off of the balcony!"

Remus faked a scandalized gasp and placed a hand over his chest while the other draped across his forehead. "You'd murder your own dearest brother?!"

"It wouldn't kill you, you overdramatic oaf, sides can't die!"

"You're calling me overdramatic?" Remus abandoned the pose to lean forward with a knowing grin. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh shut up." Roman pushed Remus away, before turning around to sit beside him atop the railing.

Remus' eyes widened. "My goody two shoes brother is sitting precariously on a railing? Since when? Is it opposite day? "

"What do you mean? I do dangerous stuff all the time!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Roman gestured wildly, "I slay the dragons! I defeat the monsters! I save the people! I...fight the bad guys…" Roman deflated as his hands fell beside him to lock the rail in a death grip. "But I guess I failed at all of that, huh? So much for being a goody two shoes…"

Remus hummed in thought, nails tapping against the black marble. His legs swayed back and forth as they both looked up at the night sky above them in companionable silence. Roman eventually let out a forlorn sigh and relaxed his grip on the railing. Suddenly, Remus let out a loud gasp and clapped his hands together, startling Roman who in turn almost tipped over the edge of the balcony.

"I have the best idea!"

"Oh no, you're planning something. That can never be good."

" No, no! Really, really! Listen, listen!" Remus smacked Roman's arm and shoulder excitedly in-between each word.

"Okay, okay! Just stop!" Roman slapped Remus' hands away. "Tell me then brother, what is it?"

Remus beamed and jumped to stand back on the balcony. "Okay so, you're saying that the other sides are shutting you out, right? And that they made you feel like a stinky doodoo head?"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Totally helps me feel better." Roman grimaced with a sarcastic thumbs up as Remus paced back and forth.

"Right! So, they're starting to treat you like a villain. And J-Anus as a good guy?"

"I- I guess? That's like the bare essentials of what happened...I mean, that's what it seems like--Ugh, just what are you getting at?!"

Remus stopped pacing to spin towards Roman and spread his hands out. "So why not just be a villain?"

"......what?"

"Join the dark sides with me!" Remus then awkwardly faked a modeling pose. "We have great fashion! And weapons! Lots of weapons!"

Roman scoffed. "I know, I saw your weapons closet." He slid off the railing to stand in front of his brother. "But what makes you think I'd want to be a villain?"

"Well, they made you feel fucking awful, right?" Remus leaned forward with a menacing grin, "So why not give them a little hell in return?"

"What, as in revenge?! I'm supposed to be a purveyor of justice!"

Remus shrugged and started circling Roman. "Where's the justice in always shutting you out? Of always telling you that everything you do is wrong? Of splitting us apart?" He stopped to put his hands on Roman's shoulders again. "Aren't you tired of trying to be a good guy all the time? Don't you just want to let loose and raise a little hell?"

Roman bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He looked down at his feet as his brother's words rang through his head. Where was the justice in that? He had always tried to do the right thing before. To be the good guy. To be the hero. But no one ever appreciated his efforts. Instead they always, always focused only on his mistakes.

The other sides' voices chimed off in his head.

"Roman, you can't do that." "Shut up Roman." "That was wrong, Roman." "Stop being so dramatic, Roman."

He pushed those invading voices furiously away and tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Him, joining the dark sides? Could it even be done? A light side had never switched over to the dark side before... Well, unless you counted the original Creativity and their split. Where a part of that Creativity had...had been pushed to the dark sides and…

Roman's eyes widened in realization as he looked back up at his brother. "You too." He breathed out.

Remus squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose at him. "Hah?"

"Always being shut out. Always being told everything you do is wrong. Being forced to split apart." Roman grabbed the hands that were on his shoulders to move them down and squeeze them reassuringly. "You experienced all of that too. Even more than I did…Don't you want to raise hell too?"

Roman grinned in a very in unprincely manner and released Remus' hands. He swept his arms aside in a grand motion. "Let's raise hell together, brother. What do you say?"

Remus stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin of his own. "Hell yeah! Hell mother fucking yeah!" He jumped up and down excitedly and clapped his hands. "Oh! We're gonna have so much fun! Those butt holes have no idea what's coming."

Roman chuckled fondly at his brother's enthusiasm. He felt lighter than he had in years. Free of responsibility. Free of expectations. Free of limitations. Free to do whatever he wanted. Speaking of which…

"You mentioned fashion earlier, didn't you?" Roman pulled at the hem of his shirt in thought before smirking up at Remus. "I believe for me to officially join the dark sides, a makeover may be in order."

Remus nodded and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him back inside, chanting, "Makeover time! Makeover time!" The entire way while pumping his fist victoriously into the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, in Thomas' living room.

"-and a part of taking care of yourself is to not self-deprecate." Janus was explaining, standing next to Logan.

"Yeah, you've gotta compliment yourself sometimes, Thomas!" Patton added happily.

Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't know guys... isn't that a little…"

"Conceited?" Virgil cut in, glaring over at Janus' before looking back to Thomas. "What if we end up doing that out loud in front of others? What if people think we're stuck up?"

"Well, it's better than always thinking so negatively of himself." Janus spat out.

"Janus has a point, Virgil. It's been proven that constant self-deprecating behavior can have a wide range of negative effects on one's psyche and mental health." Logan chinned in while adjusting his glasses. "Which could also lead to eventual negative effects on one's physical health, including-"

"Well, I mean yeah!-" Virgil rushed to interrupt, "He shouldn't think too badly of himself...but he shouldn't think too highly of himself, either!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the empty space where Roman usually stood. "I mean, what if Thomas ends up as stuck up as Princy here, huh? What would you do then-"

"Wait-" Thomas interrupted him, "Where is Roman? Has anyone seen him lately?"

The sides fell silent as they all looked curiously towards the empty spot.

"I haven't seen him since Janus joined us... Patton, didn't you check up on him or something?"

"Well, yeah! Of course I did kiddo!" Patton nodded then pouted, "He didn't seem to want to talk to me though…"

"Has anyone actually talked to Roman in a while? Where is he?"

The sides gave Thomas varying degrees of shrugs and noncommittal answers in response.

Thomas sighed, "Really, guys?" He then looked towards the corner again and called out, "Roman! Are you there? Are you listening? If so, come on up! You should join us!"

They waited in awkward silence for a while for Roman to appear, or to at least respond to Thomas' call...until they heard a deep chuckle emanating from behind the tv.

"Join you? Nope! Not possible~"

Hands crept out from behind the tv, grabbing onto the wall, causing everyone in the room to immediately be alert. They remembered the last time they saw hands there...this couldn't be good! Something was wrong! Sure enough, Remus slowly emerged, climbing up the wall as if he was a lizard. He then twisted his head around, causing Patton to almost faint from fear. Thomas, meanwhile, backed away as far as he could without falling over the couch.

"I'm afraid he's already joined someone else!~"

Remus jumped off of the wall to land in Roman's designated spot. His head and body shifted back to their original positions and he grinned at the others with his arms spread out. Now, the others could see that along with his usual attire, he also donned a crooked and cracked silver crown atop his head. His purplish eyeshadow was gone, instead replaced with a messily applied sparkly silver eyeshadow. Some of the glitter from it fell down the sides of his face to freckle his cheeks as well. The wide grin of his lips was painted in a deep green lipstick.

"Me!"

"Remus…?" Janus breathed out, confused.

"I didn't call for you! I called for Roman!" Thomas shouted once he had regained his composure from witnessing such a horrifying sight.

Virgil bristled and stood up from where he had been leaning against the stairs. "Where is he? What did you do with him?" He bared his teeth at Remus as if he was an agitated guard dog.

Remus put his hands on his hips and threw his head back with a laugh. "What did I do to him?" He leaned forward with a smirk. "What did you do to him? Huh?"

"Wha-what do you mean? W-we didn't do anything..." Stammered out Patton.

"Also, did he change his makeup?" Muttered Thomas, "It actually looks kinda good…"

"Focus on the main issue here, dudes!" Virgil snapped his fingers at them both before turning back to Remus. "Okay, whatever. It doesn't matter wherever you put him, just give him back!"

Remus chuckled and stepped to the side, "You hear that, dear brother? Sounds like they're ready for you to come out!~"

At that, the tv seemed to flicker to life. A colorful error screen appeared and started to crackle and fizz. As the glow from the tv lit up the room, the rest of the room started to glitch along with it.

The sides glanced around nervously, fear creeping into their bones once more.

"What's going on? What's happening to the room?!" Thomas panicked.

Logan placed a hand on his chin. "These types of spatial effects seeming to happen in Thomas' physical living room instead of just inside the mindscape...could it be?"

"No…" Gasped Janus, "No, it can't be!"

"Oh but it can!~" Announced another voice from inside the tv.

Hands reached out from inside the error screen to grasp the sides of the tv. A form slowly climbed out of the tv and stepped into the living room.

"......Roman? What on earth are you wearing?!" Virgil waved a hand incredulously at his new get up.

Roman, now fully standing beside Remus in his usual spot, smirked at Virgil and flicked his cape. "It's called fashion, Midnight Query."

Roman's usual outfit was now black in all of the areas it used to be white. On top of that, he wore a red velvet cape with a white and black spotted fur trim. On his shoulder laid a skull where the cape connected and clasped shut. His upper eyelid was decorated in sparkly gold eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner which spread out into a cat-eye look. His smirk donned blood red lipstick and a crown identical to Remus' was atop his head, except his crown was golden and not crooked or cracked at all. He looked like he had stepped right out of a fairytale…but as an evil king instead of a noble prince.

"Perhaps you should try it sometime, Dark and Dreary. It might make you look less…" Roman made a point of looking Virgil up and down before waving his hand at him with a scowl, "Drab."

"Roman! Where have you been? I missed you. Your makeup looks great!" Patton rambled ecstatically.

"Missed me?" He sneered, "Ha! I bet you all didn't even realize that I was gone." Roman then looked down to check his meticulously manicured nails with a bored expression.

"Of course we did! That's why I called you!" Insisted Thomas.

Roman tsked and shook his head. "Oh Thomas, Thomas. Always the peacemaker." He moved the hand he had been checking to flip his cape over his shoulder. "But I'm not here to make peace. We're here to raise hell. Isn't that right, brother?"

In response, Remus summoned a pitch black flamberge sword and stabbed the blade into the ground. "Hell yeah we are!"

The area of the floor that he smashed cracked open to reveal an eerie green and yellow glow. Small shadow hands emerged as little demons started crawling through the cracks.

Roman summoned a longsword with a ruby embedded in its hilt and slashed at the wall. Red and orange flames burst forth from the rip as even more shadow demons started to join them.

The glitching of the room from the tv screen grew at an alarming rate, some of the glitches covering entire pieces of furniture.

"What on earth is happening!?" Thomas screamed, gesturing wildly at, well, everything.

"Roman, you need to stop this now!" Virgil growled, slipping into his Tempest Tongue.

"Yeah kiddo," chuckled Patton nervously as he tried to wrestle his hoodie away from a demon that was currently trying to steal it. "Isn't this a tad bit extreme?"

Roman laughed darkly, raising his sword into a shrug. "And why should I?"

Remus rested his elbow on Roman's shoulder, "We haven't even begun to have our fun yet!"

Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, "Remus, this is not what I meant when I said-"

"Blah blah blah!" Remus mimed a mouth with his hand. "That's all you are, anacon-don't. All talk, no action!"

"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone answering me?!"

"Well, Thomas, it appears that Roman and Remus have initiated-" Logan started only to get interrupted by Virgil.

"They started Daymare Mode!" Virgil shouted as he angrily threw a demon that had been crawling on him into the wall, knocking it out instantly.

"Daymare Mode? What's Daymare Mode?!"

"It's a combination of Daydream Mode and Nightmare Mode." Janus explained while shaking a demon off of his hat with a sneer, "It's a state Creativity can only achieve when it's whole…"

"So, what? They can affect the real world now that they're working together?!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas." Chastised Logan, "You're technically just hallucinating-"

"I'm hallucinating?!"

"Yes, that is what I just said."

A demon tugged at Logan's pant leg only to be sent running away in fear by a well-placed harsh glare.

Patton, finally having gotten his hoodie free, tied it back around his shoulders and clapped his hands. "Okay, you two! That's enough. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today, but-"

"Oh no, no, no." Roman waved a finger at him, "I'm afraid we're not going to be listening to you anymore, padre."

"We've got our own plans, Daddy DingDong!"

"Oh yeah?" Hissed Janus, "And what exactly are those?"

"You can't do them, whatever they are!" Virgil yelled out as he stomped on another demon's tail, sending it hopping away in pain. "We won't let you. I won't let you!"

Remus and Roman exchanged amused glances before turning back to the others.

"You don't have to let us do anything," Roman hummed, "We're the kings. We shall do whatever we want." He waved a dismissive hand.

"Hear ye, Hear ye! The Twin Kings of Creativity!" Hollered Remus, as both twins raised their swords triumphantly in the air, "We take no shit and kick some ass!"

"To us!" Roman high fived Remus' hand, then turned to grin menacingly at the others, "And now, time for you to go to hell."

"To hell?!" Thomas gasped, looking desperately back and forth at the other sides.

Logan's eyes widened, having figured out what they were planning to do. "Roman, if I'm correct- and I always am- then I'd advise against-"

"Too late, Deuce Banner!" Remus shouted triumphantly as he and Roman clashed their weapons together. The sound from the clang resonated in all of their heads, making their vision blurry.

Thomas gripped the sides of his head, trying to get the ringing to stop hurting his ears. His head felt like it was splitting open. And then, there was nothing. Just a fade to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas gasped for air as he woke up. Wait, woke up? Had it all been a dream? Thank god-!

"Well, well, well. It's about damn time." Drawled Roman.

"We thought you were never gonna come to!" Laughed Remus.

Thomas jumped up in surprise from where he'd been laying on the floor, only to immediately regret moving so harshly as he felt his head swim. "Ow ow ow." He gripped his forehead and peered around, "What-"

"Welcome, welcome!" Roman proclaimed as he spread his arms out in a grand gesture. "To the Kingdom of Creativity."

Thomas looked up to see Roman and Remus sitting side by side on twin thrones, one gold with red cushions and one silver with green cushions. Roman sat up straight with impeccable posture and one leg crossed over the other. Remus lay sideways across his throne, kicking his feet and tossing what appeared to be a grenade up and down as if it was a baseball.

"...What? Where am I?"

"We just told you." Scoffed Roman, "You're in the Kingdom of Creativity." At Thomas' confused frown, he continued, "You're in our room, Thomas."

"Your room?" Thomas looked around at the ornate throne room. "It doesn't look like my living room, like the others' did."

"That's cause we're not as boring as the other sides." Sighed Roman, "We have much more pizazz." He gestured at the room around them. "We did some redecorating recently, actually. What do you think, hmm?"

The throne room was mainly black, with silver and gold furniture giving the darkness a stark contrast. Banners of their two symbols hung on opposite sides of the room in correspondence with each side's throne. Overall it gave off a majestic yet eerie feel.

"It's- Um." Thomas finally stood up from his position on the floor and glanced around nervously. "It's certainly something. But um, where are the others…?"

He had long since noticed that it was just him and the twins in this room. The others had seemingly vanished into thin air. Their continued disappearance was making him more and more uneasy as each second ticked by.

Remus huffed and casually threw the grenade over his shoulder and out a window, causing an explosion to be heard outside. "What's wrong Thomathy, our room not up to snuff with the others? You prefer Daddyo's and Scene-Kid's rooms? Huh?"

"What? No!" Thomas raised his hands placatingly, not wanting to anger the two currently volatile sides, "You're room is fine! It's great! It's just they were here and now they're not here and I was just wondering-"

"They're off on their own adventure right now, Thomas." Roman butted in. He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "That doesn't matter, though. What matters right now is us. Don't you want to stay here with us, Thomas? We can show you around the castle~!"

"Um- No, that's fine... No thank you." Thomas smiled as his voice shook. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here... I need to find the others."

Roman's pleased smile immediately fell into a scowl, "Fine, then. You want to see the others so badly?" He stood up from his throne and gestured for his brother to do the same. "Then why don't you just join them already!"

The both summoned their new weapons again, causing Thomas to start to panic. "Wait! Don't! Not again!"

"Too late, Thomas. You should have accepted our gracious offer."

"We could've had so much fun together!" Chirped Remus.

"And we will! You're just not ready yet, it seems." Roman sighed with a disappointed frown, "Now, for the time being~"

"Have fun in hell instead!~" The twins chimed in unison as they clashed their swords together for a second time.

The clanging rang in Thomas' already aching head as everything fell into the blackness once more.

[peakywitch]

Little Hands - Michael Gray

PART ONE

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 2K

warnings: none (i think this one has angst?)

gif: @oberelias

A knock on the bar door caught Harry's attention. He immediately knew who it was. He opened the door, seeing the young woman from a half hour ago.

"Y/N?" he asked, not understanding anything. A girl of about 17 years, crying at the door of the Garrison. Harry thought he would never see such a thing.

"Sorry Harry, I had nowhere to go..." she sobbed; Harry invited her in and poured her a glass of water as she sat down at the bar.

“Are you better?" he asked her, after a few minutes.

The girl had been staring at the glass of water since Harry had offered it to her. The silent tears kept falling from her eyes. What will I do now? She would go home alone. She would forget about being a teacher and would have to dedicate herself to whatever she could, so her son would have something to eat.

Her son.

Y/N still didn't get it. She was seventeen, a minor, and her ex-boyfriend had just left her. She could not abort, she had found out too late.

"What the fuck am I going to do..." she whispered, asking Harry.

"You in trouble?" he asked, worried that she was hurt.

"Yes, in a giant problem." She replied, drinking more water.

“I think whatever it is, you can work it out. If you have people who want you by your side, you'll be fine." He said, as he rearranged the liquor bottles.

“The person I love doesn't want to be with me, Harry. He said horrible things to me and I…”The poor girl bursted into tears, Harry felt so out of place.

The man, not knowing what to do, approached the small kitchen that was at the back of the bar and took out some pieces of brownie that were carefully protected. When he returned to her side, he opened the noisy bag, filling the Garrison with a strong chocolate smell.

"You know?" he asked “My mother was a baker, and she made the best cakes in town. She made these brownies when I was sad or had a broken heart." He smiled wistfully; Y/N's red eyes focused on him “Last night, I felt a heavy sadness. And all I could think of was brownies." He placed the two brown squares on a gray plate. "I firmly believe, these brownies will heal you a bit." He held out the plate to the crying girl, she tried to grab one "Wait, not yet."

He reached under the bar, pulling out a glass bottle of milk: “There is a kitten that had a baby, and in the morning when I am leaving, I serve her some on a plate outside. But a broken heart deserves a sip to accompany brownies. "

She poured the milk into a pint, and told her she could eat now.

Between brownies, laughter, and some milk, she was able to stop crying and laughed at some stories Harry was telling her.

When night fell, Y/N stayed in one of the rooms upstairs. Harry had offered it to her for free, as Y/N had been very good company while he set up the pub for that Friday night. However, she insisted that she would return the favor by cleaning up on Saturday morning with him. Also, she wanted to see the kitten and her baby.

Ten o'clock at night showed up on the clock, telling Y/N that in two hours this hellish day would end. She was lying with her dress still on. The poor deluded woman had thought she would return home with… Michael. The more she thought about the subject, the more her heart ached.

“I won’t be with you, get rid of him. It would be easier. "

It was final: she would be a single mother.

Michael entered the pub at ten o'clock, tired, nervous, angry, sad, helpless, and heartbroken. He was disappointed in who he was. He had been infuriated by the fact that this new person that he was, had hurt Y/N. Michael could be called Henry, Benjamin, Patrick, or Mirtha. It didn't matter his name, he loved Y/N. So when he walked into the private booth at the Garrison alone, Tommy knew why. How was he going to find her, if she was as far as she was near?

"I thought I told you not to come back if it wasn't with her, Michael." said his cousin.

Gray sat down dejectedly in one of the chairs. He snorted and poured himself a whiskey.

“Looked everywhere. Shit, I even walked into that disgusting station with idiot Campbell. I looked in every square, on the outskirts, I asked in each hostel: nothing. I know her, she got on the train hours ago and she must be in her bed crying." His gaze was so lost on the beer bucket on the table, that he did not notice the knowing looks of his cousins.

“Tom,” said Arthur “go on. Tell ‘im. Look at ‘im.”

John slipped a chuckle.

"Tell me what?" Michael asked, looking at Thomas. "Tommy, if you know something, please tell me ..."

"Michael," tommy cleared his throat, "you well know that nothing happens here without me knowing."

"Here? Small Heath? As I said, I don't think…” the Shelby interrupted his cousin.

“No, here like the Garrison. And I think you forgot that if you go upstairs, you will find a lodging that I mount..."

Michael didn't let him finish, cutting him off as he stood up abruptly.

"You knew all this damn time where she was!?" he roared.

"I have known for a few hours." he answered calmly, after drinking more Scotch.

Before Michael could say anything, Tommy spoke again: "Third door to your right."

And just like that, Michael came out of the booth like a bullet. He crossed the bar quickly, no matter who he shoved in his way. The stairs were climbed even faster, leaving him in a matter of seconds in front of Y/N's door.

He breathed. He realized how nervous Y/N must have been. He knocked on the door with a simple double knock.

Both knocks woke her up, bringing her back into the world. She stopped and approached the door carefully. Meanwhile, Michael was dying of nerves.

"Who is it?" Y/N asked.

"Me." Michael said.

"Who is Me?" she ask.

Y/N recognized that voice, of course she did. But she didn't know who the person with the voice was. She felt totally alien to this Michael Gray. Henry would never, ever have yelled at her.

"Y/N... lovey, please..." he begged.

"Do not call me that way. You don't feel that about me. Neither do I, I don't know you. "

Y/N was being too harsh for her liking, but Michael knew perfectly well that he deserved never to see her again.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you. Please…”he asked, he was about to cry.

"No. Goodbye." She sentenced.

Michael sighed in frustration. He sat in the doorway; he would sleep on the floor if necessary.

Now what can I do? If he opened the door, it would bother her even more. But if he left her alone, he would lose her forever.

"Y/N..." began the boy, and waited for an answer, nothing.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked again.

Silence.

"Well, here goes nothing." He sighed.

“Hello Y/N, my name is Michael Gray. I was born in 1903, and when I was four years old my father passed away. I was taken away from my mother, Polly, when I was five. I had a sister, they also separated us. The government changed my name to Henry. I was in an orphanage for about three years, until the Johnson, a very nice couple, adopted me. I grew up in the suburbs in a beautiful house with an apple tree in the garden. I met my first friend, she had your name, you know? "

Y/N was sitting on the other side of the door, listening to her favorite person speak. When she hear herself in the story, she smiled through tears.

“When she asked me to play family, I always pretended to propose to her. I never knew why. After a while I realized: the girls did not have germs. Then she started to seem like the prettiest girl, then the most beautiful young woman. I was in love with her for several years, I realized late. But one day..." Michael smiled wistfully" One day I plucked up the courage... a year ago and something, maybe. And I told her everything that happened to me with her. She kissed me and we started dating. She would come to my house after school. We would eat apples from the tree and study a little. And then we’d kiss a lot in the neighbor's barn at night. "

Y / N gave a little laugh, and that triggered Michael's pulse.

“Then I reconnected with my family, with the Shelbys. And I was so mad at the Johnsons for keeping my true story from me… they had told me, they’d abandoned me. When Tommy told me the truth, I was blinded by the pain of the lie and the thrill of finding my family. I did not realize that by meeting my old family, I would be abandoning one that was beginning to grow, you know?" They both wiped away tears.

“So, my girlfriend, she came to my homwtown angry, alone and pregnant. She was super, super angry and sad. And she told me everything, and I never felt worse. For having abandoned her, for seeing her cry about it and for abandoning her again when she told me she was pregnant. So..." he sighed "I am this, a simple stranger, who tells the story of his life, to the love of his life. Hoping that she forgives him. Because, you know, I know she knows I'm a bloody idiot. I mean, when we kissed for the first time, I accidentally bit her lip and left a small scar. "

They both laughed, listening to each other and wiping their tears.

“So…yeah. If you ever see her, tell her that for me, I know she doesn’t want to see me.” Michael said, with remarkable sadness.

Y/N wiped away her tears and gently pulled her hair. She stand up and knocked on the door three times. She then heard Michael stand up quickly.

"Who is this?" Michael asked.

"My name is Y/N, can I come into your life... again?" she asked, crying.

Michael's heart began to skip multiple beats and his smile spread across his face. He opened the door and saw his girlfriend standing, tired and crying. When their eyes connected, both bodies exploded into a loving embrace. They were both crying, they missed each other.

"I’m so sorry Y / N, so, so, so, sorry..." he stroked her hair.

"I love you, Michael Gray. But the next time you leave without saying goodbye, I will kill you with my bare hands. "

"Your hands are little, lovey, you can’t." She laughed, while Michael was filling her face with kisses.

"So, wait to see what a woman with little hands does to you at three in the morning when you don't want to take care of your baby."

Michael stopped the kisses and looked into her eyes.

"For a moment I had forgotten." Laughed Michael.

"Oh my God." Y/N joined in on her boyfriend's laughter.

[justmypartner]

Make it Work: Chapter 9

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: Just want to say this is the second to last chapter of this fic, and it feels bittersweet. This has been a fun multi-chapter to write (my first ever!), and I’m already getting way too excited for the next. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support. It really makes me smile to see the reactions and kind comments after uploading each chapter, I really appreciate it so much. Happy penultimate chapter with our special agent babes & happy reading :))

TW//: brief and vague mentions of assault and sexual harassment 

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias , @itsdesiree86 , @tvshowsaremyhappyplace , @stephanie708​

Read on AO3 or below​

Jay wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, or even how long he was out before his eyes slowly blinked open to a dimmed light peeking in through Hailey’s window. It still seemed to be daytime, and it still seemed to be raining, but other than that he had no clue how much time had passed. He promptly became conscious of the way she charmingly snored into his chest, the way her leg was tangled up with his, and the way it felt so natural to be laid up like that with her. It was all almost enough to make him forget how they had gotten in that position in the first place. Almost enough to make up for all of the bad stuff, but not quite. The more he came out of his groggy state, the more he remembered the details of everything she had revealed to him. With that came a resurgence of anger, and the strongest urge to climb out from her grasp and go after the man who had hurt her.

He couldn’t count how many times he had dreamed of waking up next to her. It was too many times throughout the years that he allowed his mind to drift, imagining a world where he’d wake up with her cuddled in his arms, her golden locks sprawled out across his pillows, and the smell of her shampoo fresh in his nose. He would wonder what it would be like to kiss her, to have her fingers in his hair, her touch on his skin, and he would wonder what it was like to be loved by her. Yet, in all of those fantasies, he never imagined things would happen the way they did. That their first kiss would come after she dished out the details of a trauma, that it would come after he blurted out the words I love you, or that he would blurt them out in the middle of her apartment in rain-soaked clothes. He also never imagined their first time sharing a bed would end with a desperate desire to flee it, but there he was.

The stillness of her body and the evenness of her breath told him she was still sleeping. He knew she needed it after the night she had. So, he suppressed that urge to leave and settled his mind into staying right where he was. He looked down, running his fingers lightly across her bruised hands, taking in every break of the skin and every discoloration that lined her knuckles and fingers. It was a visible representation of her strength, the fighter in her, but it was also a symbol of the trauma she endured. The perfect bittersweet metaphor for his emotions in that very moment.

“You know, poking and prodding at a girl’s wounds isn’t the best way to wake her up,” she mumbled as he did so, exhaustion evident in her voice.

“Sorry, just checking that you’re alive,” he said playfully, assuaged by the lightness in her voice and their ability to joke with one another after everything that transpired. She laughed softly before bringing a finger up to draw invisible patterns against his chest.

“You know, you make a great pillow,” she said, raising her head up to flash him a smile. He smiled back, but it quickly faded when he noticed the split on her lip and the bruises that loomed behind the curls covering her chest. He brought a hand up, tenderly tracing over the cut on her lip with his thumb.

“He’s going to pay for what he did,” he said to her, trying to maintain an even tone. She swallowed, crossing her arms on his chest and letting her head fall against her elbow.

“This is my battle, let me handle it,” she told him straightly.

“Hailey, please. I’m your partner, let me be there for you,” he requested, earnestness in his voice. She was quiet, eyeing him as she bit the inside of her cheek. If either of them had learned anything after four years of partnership, it was that no matter how much one of them tried to push away, the other would always be on the other side, more than prepared to push right back. It was a losing argument she was starting, and they both knew that. Her eyes stared blankly behind him as she thought it over, and slowly reconnected their gaze as she responded. 

“Fine, but follow my lead? I want to do things my way,” she finally settled. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but a wide smile crept across his face.

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” he said. He knew they had probably reached a point when saying that had become cheesy, but it was their thing, and it felt like a fitting time to remind her of it. She gave him a soft grin, dipping her head in agreement before pushing herself off of him, making him instantly miss her warmth against his body.

“For the record, I don’t think partners kiss each other and share a bed while one of them is half-naked,” she said as she climbed out from the duvet, clutching at her ribs as she did so. It hurt him to see her in pain, but he found it in him to smile at her words. She exited the room, and he raised his voice slightly so she could hear him.

“For the record, you kissed me first,” he chaffed. She reentered the room with a bashful grin, his clothes from before in hand as she came to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He sat up against the headboard and she set his clothes down beside her. Then she looked at him and the grin fell from her lips, she inhaled sharply before speaking.

“Listen, about what you said earlier…” her voice dropped slowly as the words came out. She didn’t have to specify what she was referring to because he already knew. She stammered, and her eyes circled the room nervously before he stopped her. It was clear she wasn’t ready to say it back, and he was okay with that.

“Look, Hailey. We don’t have to figure this out right now. Today was heavy and emotional, and I’m sure this thing with-“ he almost said his name but he stopped himself. “Taking care of what happened is more important than anything right now. I meant what I said, but I didn’t say it with any expectations. I’ve been wanting to tell you that for longer than you know, and quite honestly, I'm surprised I finally got the guts to. For now, I’m going to be by your side in any way you’ll have me. We can figure out the rest later,” he told her, reaching out to grab her hand. She smiled, bringing her other hand to cover his.

“While we’re adding things to the record,” he started, jabbing at her tease from before. “I really enjoyed kissing my partner and would happily share a bed with her again… while half-naked,” he teased with a wink. She rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together into a smothered grin before taking his clothes and shoving them into his chest.

“Get dressed, Halstead,” she commanded before rising from the bed. He watched as she made her way out of the room, his eyes traveling with her.

“Hey,” she said, stopping in the doorway as he picked up his still damp clothes to put on. He looked up at her as she pursed her lips to the side, almost like she was debating whether or not to say what she was intending to say.

“I really enjoyed it too,” she said quietly before turning and disappearing into the other room.

He blushed as a large grin erupted across his face, and he was glad she didn’t stick around to see how smitten he was just by those simple words.

One of his biggest fears about finally confessing his feelings was that she wouldn’t feel the same way. That he would leave those feelings in the air, to not only be rejected, but ruin the great thing they had as partners and best friends. While she didn’t say it back, everything that took place after his confession gave him more assurance than any words could have. She didn’t need to say anything for him to know she had feelings for him, and he knew they needed to figure out whatever there was to be figured out with Walker before they made any major changes in their relationship.

He put on his slightly soggy clothes and she changed into something more presentable before exiting her apartment back to headquarters. He flagged them a cab when they made it to the street so that they could avoid having to trek through the rain. Jay’s eyes followed the rain droplets racing down the side of the window of the cab, and when he looked over Hailey was doing the same. He smiled to himself as he looked at her, and diffidently looked away when she caught him. Except this time he wasn’t nearly as embarrassed as all of the previous times when she had caught him stealing a glance. This time it was amusing more than anything, especially when his eyes cut over and he caught her doing the same. It was a light moment that effectively distracted them from what was to come.

In the elevator, the way her fingers fidgeted with the ends of her coat sleeves told him how nervous she was. She had a good poker face, an impressive way of appearing calm in the face of fear. Looking at the stone-faced expression on her face, you would think every part of her was fearless, invincible. It was a skill he saw her use so many times with offenders three times her size and even with Voight. However, he came to learn that every nerve in her body during those moments rested in her fingers. She either nervously tapped the sides of her thighs, the surface that her fingers rested on, or in this case, pulled at the ends of her sleeves. He reached over, sliding his fingers between hers as the elevator ascended to their floor, causing her to release an alleviated breath. When the elevator reached their floor they quickly pulled apart, and he took a deep breath before stepping out.

Drake was the first to see them, and he sent them a puzzled look.

“Are you two okay?” He asked, a look of concern on his face. Jay looked over at Hailey, waiting for her to respond as he didn’t want to speak for her.

“All good. Um… where’s Burrows? We need to talk to him,” she finally said, maintaining a stolid expression.

“He and Bennett are out right now, what’s going on? I can call them in if it’s urgent,” he offered. Jay opened his mouth to respond, ready to reveal everything to their boss, but she cut him off before he could get a full word out.

“No, it’s okay. We can wait. Sorry for flaking today, I- we had something personal to take care of,” she said, Jay creasing his brow with confusion.

“It’s fine. Let me know if I can do anything,” he said hesitantly. Jay could tell Drake knew she was holding something back, but he didn’t press her for it. Hailey turned to walk away and he followed. She walked down the hall and to the locker room, Jay followed quietly, disoriented by her evasion.

“Why didn’t you tell him what happened?” Jay asked when they reached the concealment of the room.

“Because I want to do this my way. Not some bureaucratic, hoop-jumping way that might not even end in my favor. Trust me, these systems aren’t set up to protect people like me in these situations. They’re just not,“ she shook her head as her words dropped off. She began pacing the floor and Jay sat down on a bench between the lockers, looking up at her as her words took him by surprise.

“Wait, it sounds like… Are you talking from experience? Hailey, has this happened before?” He asked, frowning at the thought. She stopped her pacing, standing before him with a defeated look on her face. She nodded slowly before coming to sit in front of him on the bench.

“Nothing quite as bad as this time,” she said softly, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “When I was on patrol, I had this partner. My original partner had moved up to detective before me, so I had a revolving door of partners until I eventually made it into Robbery-Homicide. This guy was charming, a good cop, except he didn’t understand the concept of boundaries and the word no. It started out as inappropriate compliments and seemingly innocent touches on my shoulder or my forearm... until it was fingers grazing my thigh or hands brushing against my chest. Me telling him no didn’t work, so I ended up reporting him for sexual harassment. He was much older than me, had been on patrol for years before I even graduated the academy, and he had a clean record, so when it made it to the higher-ups, all they did was separate us. He was in the wrong but got to move on while I became known around the precinct as the girl who cried harassment. What happened here was way worse than that, and while I was fortunate enough to fight him off before… anyway, the next girl may not be so lucky. I can’t take that chance. He can’t just get a slap on the wrist and move on, he’s gotta be done,” she said, determination in her voice. Jay wasn’t sure how to react. He had never been in a situation like that, and he never would be. He understood her frustration with the system, but he also thought the only way for Walker to truly pay was for an official allegation to be lodged against him.

“Hails, I’m so sorry that happened to you. I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I just can’t,” he shrugged. “I know you don’t trust the system, rightfully so, but I think things could be different this time around. Drake would back you all the way, and you have me. I’m not going to be satisfied until you get justice for this,” he told her firmly.

“I know, I know, but Jay this isn’t as simple as that. So many things can go wrong if it gets out of Drake’s hands. At that point nobody, not him, not you, not even I would have control over what happened next. If I force him out, threaten to turn him in, make him leave, the power stays in my court and this all goes away with a guarantee,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but what happens when he gets a little too drunk with his coworker at his next job? It may not be in the bureau, but that doesn’t change the fact that someone still becomes a victim. We need to do this right. Not only does he need permanent termination from the bureau, but he needs to be disciplined for what he did. Plus, as bad of a thought as it is, realistically, you aren’t his first. Are we just supposed to deprive potential others of their justice?” He fought back.

“I-“ she began. He cut her off.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but let me just say this one thing. We took this job because we knew we could make a difference here. And we have. We’ve taken the worst of the worst off the streets and saved innocent people from so many horrible situations. But, how much of a difference can we say we’ve made if we aren’t addressing the problems that exist within? Do you remember what you told me when I was nervous before our first day? You said we put ‘em in check, and they sort the rest out themselves. Well, that’s what we can do here. We can make sure the system protects those who need protecting in these situations, and we can make sure everyone knows that. The change starts with us, Hailey, and they sort out the rest. Look, I’ll back you with whatever you decide, I just needed you to hear my two cents,” he finished, tilting his head down as he waited for her response. She let out a sigh before raising her eyes from the floor.

“You really think Drake will have my back?” She asked him, a hopeful look in her eyes.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” he admitted firmly. She bobbed her head lightly, and they stood.

“Fine, but let me tell him. I can do it alone,” she told him just before they exited the locker room. He agreed, waiting outside of his office as she told him. When she came out, her eyes were red with tears, but she bore a look of relief that told him the conversation went well. When Walker and Daisy finally returned from the field, Drake emerged from his office immediately.

“Agent Burrows,” he called out, stopping the man in his tracks. A look of fear overcame him as he paused before the agent in charge.

“As of today, you are stripped of your authority and duties as a Special Agent of the FBI, pending investigation by the internal review board and the Department of Justice. Badge and gun,” he said to him, his jaw set tightly as he addressed the man.

Jay looked over at Hailey who carried an impassive expression as she watched the ordeal. His eyes surveyed the room, taking in every reaction to the scene before them. Most carried a frown, others carried a very indifferent expression, but nobody appeared to look on with surprise. Daisy’s expression was the most telling. As his partner, you’d expect her to come to his defense, to be utterly astounded by what was happening. Instead, she watched with a knowing look, like it was something she had half-expected for years.

After Walker handed the boss his badge and gun, he shook his head aggressively, eyes circling the room to find Hailey. When they did, he began to approach her. Jay stepped forward, a protective stance ready to give the man what he had coming. Instead, Hailey held out an arm, pushing him back as the man approached. He reluctantly stepped back, but he maintained a steady glare at the man. He let his mind fantasize about laying him out right there, but he restrained himself, giving Hailey the control she deserved. She was toe-to-toe with him, looking up as he towered over her, maintaining a plucky look on her face despite the way he was trying to intimidate her.

“You played me,” he said. A disgusted scoff escaped from her mouth. “You’ve been leading me on since you got here. Now you want to ruin my life because you changed your mind?” he griped.

“Leading you on?” she repeated with a laugh. “If you mistook me being friendly with you, a coworker, as me leading you on then that’s your problem. I’m not the one ruining your life, you did that all on your own,” she spat at him.

“You’re going to be sorry for this,” he bit back.

“The only thing I’ll be sorry for is ever treating you with any ounce of decency. Drunk or not, you’re a prick for what you did, and you’re never going to get a chance to do it to another girl ever again,” she returned. He stepped forward as if he were going to unleash his anger on her, but Jay quickly stepped in, pushing aggressively against the man’s chest.

“You better get out of here before I put you on your ass. Believe me, I would like nothing more than to add to those bruises she already put on your sorry face,” Jay told him through gritted teeth. The man huffed and stormed out, escorted by two agents following close behind. The second he was gone, Hailey let out a sigh of relief as if she were holding her breath throughout the entire interaction. He brought a reassuring hand to her shoulder and Daisy approached from the other side of the room.

“Jesus, Hailey. Are you okay?” She asked, eyeing the visible evidence of Walker’s actions across her body. Hailey nodded softly, and a sad look filled Daisy’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I thought all of his, whatever it all was… I thought he was harmless. I probably should’ve known,” she confessed, her voice trailing off.

“None of this is on you. He was somewhat harmless... until he was drunk. You know what they say though, true personalities come out when people are drunk,” she shook her head with her words. Daisy just nodded in response.

“Let me know if I can do anything for you, please,” she said.

“Thank you. Really, I appreciate you, Dais,” Hailey told her, bringing a hand to the woman’s forearm briefly.

After everything, they stuck around the office for a while. Jay watched as several others approached Hailey, checking to make sure she was okay, voicing their support for her. They didn’t announce what actually happened, what led to Walker being stripped of his badge, but based on the confrontation in the middle of the bullpen and the bruises on each of their faces, everyone must have put the pieces together. As he watched, he hoped she’d felt a sense of support she didn’t feel all those years ago when the department turned their back on her. He hoped that it comforted her, made her realize she made the right decision to turn him in. When things started to die down, Drake instructed Hailey, Daisy, and Jay to go home. He knew they all needed to decompress, and he also knew they would’ve stayed for the rest of the shift if he didn’t say anything.

“Ready to go?” Hailey asked Jay as she approached him at his desk. He nodded, rising from his chair and grabbing his jacket from the seatback. He had a brief flashback in his mind to earlier that day when he did the same thing. That moment felt like a lifetime ago, but he was consciously aware of the juxtaposition of those two moments. Earlier that day he was grabbing his coat, worried out of his mind about Hailey, but at that moment he was grabbing it with a sense of peace that everything would be okay.

They rode the elevator to the lobby in silence. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the small space, both eyeing the digital glow of the numbers beside the door as it counted down to one. The silence continued as they walked down the street. It was nighttime by then, and the rain had finally stopped, leaving the familiar petrichor emanating from the sidewalk. The day began with a rainstorm, a horrible mess completely out of their control, but it was ending with that smell of rain like everything had been washed clean and they were getting a fresh start.

Before he realized it, they were reaching the street corner. The corner where she’d turn to walk home to her apartment, and he’d turn the other direction to walk home to his. He wasn’t sure where they stood. He told her he loved her. She kissed him. They shared a bed together. Then, they had to leave that small blissful bubble they created to confront the man who attacked her. He knew that night wasn’t the proper time to have that conversation, to figure out what things would mean for them. He didn’t know when that would be, but he did know that in the low light of the streetlamp above them, she looked so beautiful. She looked up at him with a what now look in her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and tell her a million times over how much he loved her. But he didn’t. She was the one who just went through something unimaginable, the one who was probably still reeling from having so many world-shaking things happen to her in the past 24 hours, so he was letting her write the rules. She eventually broke their silent gaze with her quiet voice.

“Thank you… for everything. I don’t want to even think about what would have happened today if you weren’t around,” she confessed, looking up at him with slightly glossy eyes.

“You don’t have to thank me. You don’t ever have to thank me. You know I’m always going to be there for you,” he returned.

Because I love you, was what he wanted to add, but he didn’t because he didn’t know where her head was. Yet, something in the look on her face told him she knew it even if he didn’t say it. She inhaled, shifting her weight to one leg as her head cocked up at him.

“I know you said earlier that you’ll be by my side in any way I’ll have you,” she began, causing him to hold the breath he had just taken. “I need just a little more time to figure that out. This entire day has been incredibly long and exhausting, and I really don’t trust myself or my feelings right now,” she choked, the heaviness of the day written across her face. As much as he understood, the words hurt, and he hung his head low with a nod to conceal the splintered expression that overcame his face. She reached out, grabbing his hand in hers.

“I’m not saying no. I’m not saying I don’t feel the same because trust me, I-“ she cut herself off. “I just need time,” she requested. With that, he forced himself to lift his spirit, raising his head back up with an affirming nod and sending her that soft and reassuring look that seemed to come so naturally with her.

“Of course. Take all the time you need,” he said, squeezing her hand back gently. With that she nodded, pulling away before making her way past him, headed down the street to her apartment. He watched as she walked away. He didn’t know how much time she’d need, but he couldn’t wait until the moment when she was walking back to him. He knew the wait would be agony, but he also knew for her he would wait forever. He inhaled deeply, that smell of rain filling his senses, giving him hope that their fresh start would be well worth the wait.

[lovelywingsart]

Patch Notes

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

Fun little thing that takes place after this mini comic strip thing! I needed a bit more... 'discovery' in the series, I guess?? This might have a few parts to it depending on how far I wanna go with it! It's short.

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3**

-----

*Warnings?: Injury recovery?

Summary: After waking up from a decently rough 'practice' session to control the Cadou, Karl questions Emelia about the familiar red and white patch on one of her shirt sleeves.

Emelia woke slowly with a quiet whimper, her left arm cradled to her chest as she lay on her side. Her head was throbbing and her chest felt tight... The rest of her body was simply in pain. It all hurt... It REALLY hurt. Hell, her forearm almost burned...

There was an odd pressure on her arm as she tried to move it. She couldn't tell what the pressure was, but it felt as if it were holding her arm together rather than simply surrounding it... Every breath was met with a tight, shooting pain from her side and chest. Another whimper left her mouth as her eyes fluttered open slowly, and she attempted to stretch- A mistake.

She rolled onto her back slightly with a pained, gasping noise as a sharp pain shot through her system with the movement before remaining still for the throbbing to go away. The primary pain itself now came from her chest... She couldn't tell if it was from the inside or outside, with the skin burning, yet the muscles feeling as if they had torn. But she couldn't help but try to lean up anyway as she smelled something... sweet. Sweet and familiar.

She managed to open her eyes, glancing around until her gaze landed on a figure in a chair across the room. The room itself wasn't too bright, but it also wasn't incredibly dim. And it was cold... She quickly recognized Heisenberg before looking around. Where was she?? She hadn't seen THIS part of the factory before... Were they even still IN the factory?? They had to be, she could still hear distant machinery...

"You're awake." He said simply, his back to her while he leaned back in the chair. His voice snapped her focus back to him. "I thought you'd be out for longer."

"W-... What...?" She managed, staring at him as he glanced back at her.

"Do remember blacking out? After the Lycans beat the hell out of you in the ventilation shaft." He said simply. "A few broken ribs, but most of the damage was surface level. You're lucky I didn't leave you down there for being a dumbass, and even more so that you didn't lose your goddamn arm."

"L-Lose my..." she mumbled, looking at her arm. It was wrapped tightly in bandages, but it still felt separate, almost. She vaguely remembered getting sliced multiple times by the Lycans, but... "How did..."

"They clawed you deep enough to hit bone. Your shoulder, too." He replied, now noticeably uninterested. It seemed like he was inspecting something, moving something in his hands in front of him where she couldn't see. "Any more fighting and you would have lost that arm entirely... I'm surprised you can still move your fingers."

She watched him for a moment before looking at her hand, and she flexed her fingers just slightly as if to prove it to herself. She could feel her muscles tighten with a grunt, feeling every movement through her arm as if the nerves had rebuilt and reconnected themselves while she was asleep. She only looked up again when he cleared his throat.

"If you're done inspecting..." he muttered, turning his head slightly to her, "I've got questions of my own."

What?? What the hell kind of questions could HE have??? Emelia kept her eyes on him, her face now that of confusion.

"... Questions about what...?" She asked. He simply moved his arm out over the armrest of the chair.

Hanging from his hand from between his fingers was a black piece of torn fabric, with what seemed like a patch on one side. She squinted slightly. That... that looked familiar... It's like she had seen it before- She immdiately looked down at her shoulders, realizing quickly why she was so cold; The sleeves of her shirt had been ripped clean off, leaving tattered, blood-stained edges. THAT'S what the patch was...!! The red and white octagon from her shirt sleeve- She looked back up as he opened his mouth.

"What is this symbol."

It wasn't much of a question; more like a statement. But she stared at him, almost not hearing him over the shock of the now torn shirt.

"You ripped off my bloody sleeves??" She asked, her tone that of an irritated, surprised disbelief. He lowered his head and shook it as if he were growing aggravated.

"To patch up your goddamn arm. Would you have rathered me rip the entire fucking thing off? Now answer me." He growled, finally looking back at her. She froze and shrunk in on herself under his hard gaze. He looked... angry. And oddly determined.

Heisenberg stared at her and shook the fabric.

"What. Is. This. Symbol." He repeated, a bit harder this time.

"I don't... I don't know-"

"What the hell do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean I don't bloody know!!" Emelia snapped suddenly, making him go silent. She only calmed as she met his eyes again. "I... I told you. I don't remember ANYTHING before this. And what I do remember is..." she trailed off, but shook her head. "I don't remember where I got these clothes from. I just know I had them before... her."

He stared at her with a hard gaze, but finally sighed.

"Fuck..." he muttered, bringing the fabric back in front of him. He inspected it for a few seconds more, and she huffed.

"Why is it so important...? You never cared about it before..."

"How often are you close enough for me to really look at you, Emelia?" He asked, rolling his eyes and looking back at her again. He held up the patch once more, turning it so one of the white pieces was at the top. "It's important because I've seen this damn thing before."

Her interest suddenly perked, and she straightened out despite the pain. He had seen it??? Could that mean he could help her figure out where she had come from...??

"Where??"

He shook his head, looking at the patch.

"In one of the old caverns around the village, and the damn giants chalice at the altar."

"The... The what...?" She questioned, making him pause before groaning.

"I forgot you haven't been out that far..." he muttered.

There was silence between them as he reached to rub his temple. Emelia looked down at her arm, continuously flexing her fingers. It still hurt, but not as much... Only a dull throbbing sensation now. Her eyes traveled along the skin of both arms, frowning as she took in the multitude of dark bruises that covered them. Even the bandages had soaked through with blood... The sound of Heisenberg pushing himself out of the chair with a sudden grunt startled her, and she looked up to see him approach.

"Come on." He said simply, holding out his hand. She stared at it.

"... I'm sorry?"

"I said come on. Stand up, grab the cloak I gave you, and let's go."

She didn't move for a moment before hesitantly reaching for his hand. She took it, holding on for balance as she stood. Her legs wobbled slightly as she reached to hold onto his arm, and she could tell they were just as bruised. But she moved to meet his gaze.

"Where are we going...?" She asked, managing to stand straight once she had her balance. He didn't move, allowing her to do so.

"We're taking a trip to the altar to see what this-" he held up the patch, "- has to do with anything. It might give a clue to kill that bitch, or at least jog your memory."

She stared at him. He really WAS determined...

"S-Shouldn't I... um... shouldn't I rest...?" She asked cautiously, jerking back as he laughed.

"If you're stupid enough to fight those grimy assholes until you pass out, you're stupid enough to follow me." He shrugged on the large jacket he wore and grabbed the odd hammer he carried with him. "Plus it's cold out. It'll numb you up a bit."

She couldn't help but groan at the mention of the cold. Of COURSE it had to be cold... She had been trying to AVOID the cold since she went outside the FIRST time...

"Are you sure??" She grumbled, looking around. She found the thick cloak he had been talking about off to the side, walking over to grab it. He chuckled.

"Think of it as work, Emmy. I think you can get past that. Now let's go."

She grumbled once more as he immediately made his way to the door, but followed behind as she shrugged the cloak over her shoulders.

"You're going to kill me one day, I just know it..." she growled.

He laughed, glancing back with a smirk.

"No, not me. I think you'll do that all on your own."