#and * already snarked about it to me yesterday which really hurt my feelings like i don’t think she was trying to be mean but it’s like yes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

s-brant · 3 years ago

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The Endless Summer (2/?)

(gif: @beccs) (PART ONE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: A day out on the water goes awry and puts JJ, John B, and Y/N in danger. With tensions rising and the stakes higher than ever, JJ finds it difficult to control his feelings.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, graphic violence, and JJ being an emotionally confused asshat.

A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for the love on this series, I’m so glad you guys like it and I hope this part is just as good. Things get a little heated in this chapter, so buckle up. Let me know if you enjoyed this. Have fun!

JJ isn't sure why she did it.

He wasn't sure then and he isn't sure now, but he knows one thing for certain: there isn't any going back to how things once were now that the barrier between them came crashing down.

Sweat drips off of his skin from the relentless heat of the Caribbean that has made their recent lives hell with the painful tinge of sunburn atop their tans and heat exhaustion they must be careful to avoid at all costs. They were educated on both topics by Pope, their godsend of a survival encyclopedia in human form, who advised them to spend most of their day outside of necessary tasks like fishing and constructing stable shelter under the shady cover of the treetops.

The sole reason he and John B aren't hiding in the safety of the shade is that it's their day to fish, but he's not thinking about the sun. In fact, neither of them is. They're both wondering where their third fishing buddy is.

It took roughly ten minutes of spearfishing with him in comfortable silence for JJ to finally break and spill his guts about what happened last night. Though there was an unspoken agreement to never tell anyone that their hatred has turned into desire, he couldn't help it. He was going mad trying to unravel it in his head.

After all, he already had a conversation with JB about the recent shift in their behavior with each other by the ocean last night, so it seems fitting to pick up where they left off with the calm and clear blue water in front of them again.

He walks on the jagged outcropping of rock that serves as their perch to observe the fish without disturbing the pattern of the current they swim through with John B closely behind.

"One second she's pissed at me, the next she's all over me. It makes no sense. Then, she didn’t say anything to me after it happened," JJ says with his face hardened into a look of concentration at the fish he squints against the sun to aim at, "Not even "Fuck you, Maybank" or one of her weirdly creative threats. She just sat there all night and talked to everyone but me."

His gaze slips away from the water as his chosen fish disappears from sight before he can bother to throw the spear, eyeing up his friend's reaction to the news.

John B doesn't seem that surprised by it, because who else, aside from everyone else in Kildare who knows of their "hatred" for one another, could've seen it coming as much as he did? He considers it for a second, then props his arm up on the handle side of the spear he digs into the rock to lean against.

"I'm pretty sure that means she likes you."

JJ retorts, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

Why would anyone ignore a person they like? It makes no sense to him. Every time he wanted a person, he'd simply walk over and make it happen. It's never been difficult for him to pursue the people he finds himself attracted to...Well, except for her. For a guy that also ignored her for the rest of the night and pretended their moment in the woods didn't happen, he has some balls of steel to be chastising her for the same things he did.

John B shrugs and says, "I'm being serious, dude. Sarah wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I worked on the Druthers, and I thought it was some stuck-up rich person thing but it wasn't."

They shouldn't be talking at all right now as to not scare away the fish, but they do it anyway. They both know he won't let it go until it's out of his system for good. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it if he wanted to, so its better to talk it out than turn stir crazy from ruminating over it 24/7.

Though it's, as he worded it yesterday, hot as balls out, being by the sea lessens the feeling of it by a landslide.

The breeze they crave whenever they work on their huts or forage through the forest for wild berries, coconuts, or potential building supplies blows on them without pause for the time they spend here, which almost makes it more dangerous. They stand under the direct harm of the UV rays frying them without truly feeling it burn yet, and he dreads the next few days in anticipation of the returning sunburn he just peeled off of his shoulders the other day.

JJ walks down the side to get a better view of the water, balancing precariously on the sharpened edge with the spear clenched tightly in one hand. The breeze is strong enough to threaten his balance, but he holds firm and digs his toes into the sedimentary rock for traction. His body sways in the midday sun with the struggle for stability, or, at least he suspects its midday.

Since being stranded here, time is a foreign concept to them. With no phones, clocks, or any guide to go off of other that the position of the sun above to display the hours that pass, they've lost complete track of what day it is, let alone how long minutes or hours truly are in comparison to the endless summer they live within. They suspect it's been a month since they were left here, but, in all honesty, it could be two. None of them had the sense to mark the days in a tally until it was too late.

He says, lifting his arm to throw the spear, "Well, she is a stuck up rich person, so maybe it's just—"

"You know I'm right here, don't you?"

The sound of her voice from a few feet behind them startles JJ into turning around to look at her right when he lets go of the spear.

Unfortunately for him, the jerking movement throws off his carefully distributed weight and skews his balance, making the feet placed on the edge slip from underneath him and send him slipping down into the water. His calf is the first body part to hit the rocks, and the groan of pain he lets out at the feeling of the jagged rock slicing through his skin could make her heart stop mid-beat. But what truly scares her is seeing the back of his head hit the ground too.

Before he can slide the rest of the way into the water, two pairs of hands are grabbing onto his arms and heaving him up with all of their strength. She and John B grit their teeth with the effort it takes to pull him back up, their muscles burning from the strain, and once his feet are over the ledge, he pushes off the rock to help them the rest of the way. Drops of his blood disperse into the water off the edge from where he cut himself, dripping until there's hardly any left.

Once he's safely laid back down a few feet from where he slipped, Y/N is kneeling in front of him in a matter of seconds. The rock beneath her knees opens small cuts into her skin, but she doesn't pay it any heed. She sits on her heels to lessen the minor pain and lean forward to inspect the damage he took with nothing on her mind other than worry.

Soon enough, John B joins her to kneel at his feet as he sits up and watches them eye up his injury as though it’s some sort of ghastly, life threatening thing instead of a gash that won't need stitches. He watches them against the glittering ocean, waves washing up on the rocks around them to sting his wound with saltwater.

"It's a scratch, not an amputation," JJ says.

She ignores him with a frown lining her pretty features and twists his leg by the ankle to get a better view of the wound in the sunlight. It extends up the entire length of his calf, almost from ankle to knee, and dribbles fresh blood onto her hands as well as the ground beneath them. From what he can tell, it doesn't look all too severe. No muscle or bone can be seen, so it's a simple, superficial scratch.

When he doesn't get a response from either her or John B while they're too busy checking out his leg, he says again, "Guys, I'm serious, it's fine."

This time, she doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Yeah, well you may not need stitches but you still have infection to worry about. This wilderness isn't exactly the cleanliest place," she says retorts with as much snark as usual, and he quietly rejoices in the fact that she's finally acting normal after what happened last night, "Not to mention, you hit your head pretty hard. There's no need to act all tough."

He shrugs.

"It's not an act, it really doesn't hurt that bad."

John B stands and smears the blood on his hands off on the front of his shorts.

"I'll be right back, guys, I'm gonna go get stuff to patch him up."

Just like that, they are left plunging into silence as he is running away down the peninsula back to the beach they've claimed as their own.

Silence has always been her least favorite thing to share with JJ. She'd rather anything over it—screaming, fighting, joking, friendly conversation, or even what they did together yesterday night. Anything is preferable over the tense and insufferable feeling of silence when they're alone together with none of their friends, or their playful hatred, between them as a barrier between them.

Instead of seeing the same pestering jerk she always used to when she looks at him, she sees the memory of how he looked at her in the woods. He didn't look at her like she was the worst person to ever walk the planet, or like she was his least favorite Kook "Princess", he looked at her like she meant something to him.

They sit together in uncomfortable silence in the time it takes John B to rush to the beach and back, careful not to slip on the rocks the way JJ did, with the supplies from the dinghy in his arms. It isn't much to work with, but at least it's something to keep the nasty wound on his leg protected from dirt and germs. She's sure he'd leave it uncovered and up to fate if he had it his way.

Before he can set them down on the wet rocks, thus ruining the gauze and bandages in craters filled with ocean water, she gestures at JJ with a stern command, "Take off your shirt."

His brows raise.

"Shit, Princess, take me out to dinner first."

She groans in frustration, "Can you be quiet for a second and actually listen to me for once?"

He catches John B's gaze with wide eyes, but complies nonetheless, reaching down to tug the tank off of his torso by the frayed hem until it's balled up in his closed fist to hand off to her. Her eyes only linger on his body for a quick second on accident before snatching it from him.

Her bloodstained palms lay the shirt out on the flattest stretch of rock she can find to act as a barrier from the small puddles of water to protect the supplies. One nod at John B has him setting them down atop the navy fabric as she glances up at JJ with a smug smile.

"Believe it or not," she taunts, unscrewing the cap to the disinfectant, "I didn't ask for it so you could sit there and look pretty."

The words throw him back in time to their conversation on the beach while they thatched the roof to their hut, and he wonders how long she's been waiting to throw that back in his face since he first said it.

He grins at her as he asks, "You think I'm pretty?" but before he can say more, she's pouring a generous amount of the hydrogen peroxide along the length of his cut without a warning for him to prepare himself. His leg jerks away on instinct to save himself from the burning sensation, but she grips his ankle tightly enough to force him to stay still.

His nose scrunches up with the urge to groan in pain, and he does a little. Through grinding teeth, he winces in response to the peroxide slipping into every cell of open skin and bubbling up like the white water of the waves as it kills the bacteria lingering in the gash.

"Does it hurt now?" Y/N asks.

She's looking up at him through her lashes with her lips curled into a smirk as she packs gauze onto the wound until it's covered to her satisfaction. And it should be the last thing he's thinking about right now after cutting up his leg and hitting his head hard enough to worry her about concussions, but he can't help it. Looking down at her like this, it's impossible for him to not think about the unfinished business they have.

Everything is the same as it was yesterday—the tattered white top, the red panties in place of a bikini, sunburnt cheeks, and a taunting look that he'll never get tired of seeing. But that's precisely why he's reminded of it. She's wearing the same clothes and looking at him the way she did on the beach before any of last night's antics occurred, and he can't keep himself from wondering if it'll happen again.

"Yeah," he finally responds.

Her smirk grows for a second before she gets back to work.

"Good."

JJ subtly eyes her up from where she shifts on her knees to set the open gauze wrappers under the peroxide bottle in exchange for the bandage wrap, but he isn't as subtle as he thinks. She can feel his stare no matter how sneaky he attempts to be. He may be able to evade John B's attention, since he dove into the ocean to retrieve the wooden spear that began to float out in the tide, but she never misses a thing. Not when it comes to him.

When he looks at her, he finds memories.

Her legs folded up beneath her bring him back to how smooth they felt on his palms when he lifted them up around his hips. Her rosy lips pressing into a line in concentration bring him back to the coconut flavor he tasted on them. Her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt bring him back to when he lifted it up over her breasts to suck at the sensitive skin until he got a moan from her—There isn't a place he can stare without going back to last night.

Part of him hates that.

He can't stand that a girl who he spent the last five years hating has found a way into his daydreams. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why did she have to lure him into her trap? He supposes there's nothing he can do about it now, though. After hours of stewing over it, he's reached the conclusion that it was likely a one-time thing, a mistake made in the heat of the moment that she won't make again, and he should get the idea of it out of his head.

When she has to adjust her grip to hold the gauze in place while she wraps the bandage around his leg, he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and jerks away again. She glances up at him with her best, "Are you kidding me?" face. Didn't he say he was tough?

"I'm starting to think you're a sadist, 'cause it's like you're trying to make it hurt," he says.

She gasps, feigning offense.

"Me? Enjoying this? It's not like we've hated each other for years or anything."

And though he may not realize it, this is her way of distracting him from the pain of having her apply added pressure to his cut while she wraps the bandage into place. It has to be tight enough to keep water and sand out, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation, and while it may have been tolerable without her touching it, the contact is enough to make it worse for him.

He asks, "Uh, speaking of, why are you the one doing this? Isn't it some kind of HIPAA thing to treat patients you've threatened to violate with tree branches before?"

The sound of her laughter makes his stomach flutter with butterflies, and he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

"That's not what HIPAA is, genius"—her eyes crinkle at the sides with her wide smile while she wraps his leg—"and I'm the one doing this because I know way more medical shit than the rest of you."

Even Pope.

"Ohhh right, I forgot. Your dad is this hotshot surgeon and that makes you think you know everything," he taunts.

The casual mention of her father makes her chest ache with something not many of the Pogues, excluding Pope, have felt since being stranded on this island. With their parents either disowning them, absent, abusive, or dead, they have no reason to resist the allure of living here for the months or years it may take to be rescued, but she does.

She misses him.

For the longest time since her mom died, it was her and her dad versus the world. In everything they did, they did it together, and before she met Sarah, he was the closest she had to a best friend. Since they had no other family to help watch her as a child, she grew up in the hospital with him, drawing with crayons on his office’s printer paper with her babysitter and picking up small things along the way from watching him for so long.

He could've chosen to leave her at home, sure, but he didn't want to miss out on seeing her more than he already did, so she spent the majority of her childhood in offices, waiting rooms, and the indoor playground of the PEDs wing.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself after the sucker punch of being reminded of her dad and says, "Well, I know enough and, thankfully for you, I'm the one doing this instead of John B."

From far away, twenty or so feet offshore where their friend is paddling through the water with the lost spear held in one hand, they hear John B shouting an offended, "I heard that!" back at her. It draws a soft chuckle from them both, and she silently thanks him for distracting JJ one last time as she finishes and secures the bandage so it won't unravel.

She wipes her hands off on her water-soaked thighs one more time to get as much of his blood off of her fingers as possible before she reaches out with both arms extended to offer him help to stand. He takes them with a murmured, "Thanks," as they both try not to show how affected they are by the casual touch.

It makes them feel pathetic that something as small as holding each other's hands makes them remember what they did and desperately wish to continue it. Her throat bobs with how she must swallow the lump in her throat at their close proximity, barely breathing now that he's standing close to her with less than a few inches between them.

For a second, they don't move away. They stay face to face, and all she can think of is how badly she wants to kiss him again. But she can't do anything yet, not when she hears someone screaming from the water.

"There's a shark!" John B screams as he paddles back faster than he's ever swam in his life, already close enough to the peninsula that they can see the terror in his eyes when they turn to look.

Surely enough, there a tip of a fin too pointed to pass off as a dolphin cutting through the surface of the water to alert them of the fish's presence, but if that weren't enough, the water is clear enough for them to see its outline.

Thankfully for him, it isn't huge. It looks about as long as he is tall, but that doesn't change the degree of danger. Just because it isn't as big as other sharks doesn't make a bite any less lethal, especially when their only form of medical attention rests on her knowledgeable yet inexperienced shoulders.

For once in his life, JJ is frozen with no clue of what to do.

He's always the man with the plan, the one who jumps into action when others choke up and sit on the sidelines, but this makes him falter. What can he do to help other than stand here and pray John B can out-swim a shark? He's helpless, and now that he's faced with the prospect of losing his best friend for a second time, he doesn't know what to do.

It was his blood in the water that must have attracted the shark, and he was so caught up in his own drama with her and the pain of his cut that he didn't consider the danger of John B jumping in to retrieve the spear he dropped. It's his fault. His best friend is about to be eaten by a shark and it's his fault—

The blurred image of her rushing past in his peripheral vision rips him from his stormy thoughts, and right when he thought it couldn't get worse, it does. Water splashes up around her body and swallows her under the surface after she leaps off the edge of the rock with the aluminum spear from the dinghy raised in her dominant arm.

"Y/N!"

Before he even realizes what he's doing, JJ is screaming out her name, screaming it like he cares, and damns the consequences to dive in after her.

While he was frozen, she sprung into action without thinking of her own life first. She knew he was close to the rock, but not close enough to swim faster than a predator designed for the conditions of the ocean. It took one glance at the spear resting to the side for her to lean down, scoop it up, and get a running start to jump out as far as humanly possible. Various joints and muscles ached from how she strained to push herself far off the rock, taking flight with nothing but their survival in mind.

She sucks in a heaving breath upon breaking the surface, but she doesn't take a second to pause with John B paddling up to her so soon.

"Go back!"

The only answer she gives him is, "Use your spear!" before she brings hers out of the water in anticipation of the grey figure bolting straight for them.

It's a stupid plan, but it's the only one she has, and if one of them is in danger, they'd all risk everything they have to protect them. After all, they're already trapped here with the threat of death every day. Is there anything more worthy of dying for than your friends?

Neither of them is necessarily trying to kill it yet either, they're trying to keep it at a safe distance or hurt it enough so it swims away from them, but she puts all of her strength into spearing the fish between the eyes anyway. Her legs kick tirelessly to keep her afloat while she and John B stab as accurately as they can, choking down a mouthful of salty ocean water from how her head sinks at the surface without the help of her arms to keep her up.

Blood stains the water with a crimson hue spreading out around their bodies—whether it's theirs or the shark's, she doesn't know—and she must keep her lips clamped shut to prevent it from spilling into her mouth, breathing solely through her nose. She can tell her legs are soon to give out on her, but then a pair of hands latch onto her body. Call her irrational or stupid, but even with the clear distinction of human hands on her waist, her mind reacts in instinctual fear.

The touch makes her jolt mid-stab and sobers her feral mind back to reality for a moment until she realizes it's a human touching her, not the shark.

It's JJ.

His arms wrap around her thighs and hoist her up out of the water as much as he can while still swimming, effectively pushing himself underwater with one last gasp for air.

The sudden shift in view has her gaze shifting around to take in the new sights with a gush of red water rushing off of her onto the splashing surface: a light grey tail whips around in the chaos, the shark's head oozes blood from the multiple puncture wounds that didn't push quite deep enough, and its jaws snap right where John B's arm is before he yanks it back.

After a fraction of a second, it clicks with her that there's no time to waste watching her friend almost get his arm chomped off while she takes in the unbelievable sight. Her slippery grip on the handle remains as firm as possible, and she raises the spear over her head with an improved accuracy she never could've had from where she previously aimed it before. All of their shots landed well enough, but with the height advantage, she won't allow herself to fuck it up this time with her friend's life hanging in the balance.

She hardly recognizes her own frantic voice shouting at him, "Spear it in the gills!"

Her hands bring the razor-sharp tip of the spear down into its head repeatedly, and she isn't sure whether it's the splashing water or tears wetting her face when she buries the weapon down into it for a final time right when John B lodges his wooden spear in its gills.

Whatever she did, it must've hit its brain, because the animal halts its thrashing. Its teeth no longer snap at her friend, nor does its tail whip around in the water as violently as it did a moment ago.

As quickly as it started, it drops off into a sickening calm that leaves the white bubbles dissolving into a puddle of bloody water surrounding the trio and the fish that dies with no small amount of guilt on her part. There was no choice but to kill it. It makes her ache on the inside, but how could she regret it if she knows it saved them? The guilt might ravage her for the upcoming days, but she can't bring herself to regret jumping in after him.

She hardly has the chance to process it before she's being pulled away by both of the boys, her view of the scene shifting drastically once more with the abrupt drop of JJ letting her down in favor of guiding her through the gentle waves. His calloused hand squeezes her arm enough to cut circulation off on their journey back.

Time rushes past her in the next thirty seconds or so it takes them to reach the peninsula again in a paranoid sprint away from where the dead fish floats. One of them, John B she thinks, tosses the aluminum spear he dislodged from the shark's head up onto the rocks and clambers his way back up on his own. The waves closer to land grow rougher than the tender current out where they killed the shark, and she grunts in pain as one sends her and JJ straight into the rocks. His body hits her back with a solid ‘thump’ and forces her to wheeze with the wind getting knocked from her lungs upon impact, nails cracking on the black rock from the desperate grip she uses in an attempt to lift herself.

Meanwhile, JJ can't seem to catch his breath either, nor can he think of anything other than her once he sees that John B isn’t injured.

As soon as he sees his friend is unmarked from the teeth of the shark after he's out of the water, he positions himself behind Y/N to help her out first. He places his hands on her backside to push her up as quickly as he can. Knowing that the carcass in the water will soon attract more sharks in the surrounding area into a feeding frenzy, he'd rather it be him than her. It's a thought that shoots by too fast for him to fully acknowledge the meaning or weight of it at a time like this.

Somehow within his adrenaline-crazed mind, he is careful not to push her onto the jagged edge that sliced his leg open earlier, then climbs after her with little space left between them.

She's coughing up saltwater onto the rocks as he scrambles over to her, eyes wild with the petrifying worry of anything bad happening to her. They scan over her arms, legs, stomach, and back, and he doesn't even realize his hands are reaching out to inspect her as frantically as she had with him when he got hurt.

His hands cup her face, petting over her dripping hair and forcing her to look up so he can see if she somehow got hit in the face. Never has his mind been so void of rational thought, and, knowing him and his impulsive tendencies, that's saying a lot. The confusion of his contradictory feelings for her muddle his mind. Worry and hatred, attraction and anger—they battle it out, but only two manage to reach him externally.

Worry and anger it is. Worry for obvious reasons. Anger because—

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

She has never heard him sound so vicious since the start of whatever odd relationship/friendship/enemy-ship they have. With his worried expression and how he checked her entire body for injury after helping her out of the water, the last thing she would've anticipated from him was anger. Especially not after she saved his best friend's life. Considering what she just did for him, she thinks he should be thanking her, not chastising her.

Behind her back, she can hear a collection of yelling voices and splashing footsteps over the water dripping from them. It can only be the rest of their friends racing up the peninsula to them, but she can't turn around.

She stares at him with utter confusion flooding her at his unexpected outburst. Speechless.

"What was I thinking?" she asks incredulously with her face still cradled between his hands, "I was saving John B's life!"

Their emotional distance and disagreement are made up for in abundance by how physically entangled they've become. It wasn't intentional. It was a result of him needing to get close enough to scour her exposed skin for any bites, but now that they're sitting so near to each other, they forget to back away.

John B is too busy to engage with them.

He's doubled over on the ground with the compulsion to vomit the contents of his stomach into the ocean, but he doesn't dare get close to the edge again after what they went through. Instead, he positions himself away from them and their approaching friends until the half-digested food is forced back through his mouth. The acidic bile scorches his throat and nostrils on the way out.

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to retort back something about her being stupid, because Pope is the first person to reach them and ask, "What the hell happened?"

The rest of the group isn't far behind. It's Kie who asks the next question, then Sarah, then Cleo. They all pop off in rapid succession before either of the three of them can answer.

"Are any of you hurt?"

"Why is he throwing up?"

"Is that a shark?"

The last question draws everyone's attention over to the half-sunken mass of fish bobbing up and down on the breaths of the sea with a wooden spear sticking straight out of its gills. Though it isn't the biggest, most intimidating shark to roam the ocean, its presence doesn't fail to make everyone who looks at it shudder with the realization of what must have happened.

John B wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and points over at her with his trembling arm outstretched.

"She killed it."

The four of them whip their heads in her direction, jaws nearly falling off their faces in disbelief, but she doesn't say anything yet. Because as soon as they feel the eyes of their friends burning into them, she and JJ realize, as though they're returning to reality from the hazy layers of a dreamscape, that they're still holding each other.

She's slumped halfway onto him from when he hauled her body closer to inspect her, so she's essentially sitting on top of him at this point. Her legs, bruised and scratched up from when the waves crested to send them crashing into the rocks, are entangled around his enough that they look back and forth between them and where his hands cup her face in surprise.

JJ doesn't know what came over him.

Now that he snaps out of it at the same time as her, both of them separating and nudging each other away until their bodies are no longer entwined, he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

When he saw her leaping past him to jump into the water, his mind shut off. He wasn't thinking about himself, or the possibility of getting killed, or anything at all. He was only thinking of the danger she put herself in, then he dove in and the rest of his conscious mind faded away into pure survival instinct. Yet, even after he knew the immediate danger was gone, the adrenaline kept him on edge, desperate to get her back to land and pray none of them were hurt.

"It was trying to attack him," she rasps. Her throat is raw from the saltwater she choked on, and every word burns. "But we did it together."

She pushes herself off the ground with an exhausted sigh.

Muscles spent from the struggle in the water, her legs wobble beneath the weight of her upper body as she takes a few steps to help John B up from his position on his hands and knees. From what she heard, he has thrown up all he has left in his stomach and hasn't gagged again in a minute or so, so attempting to stand again shouldn't be too strenuous for him.

His hand is cold in her grasp from the water soaking their bodies, but it holds firmly enough for her to help him into his feet without their palms slipping apart. No patches of blood are visible on his shorts, nor are there any puncture wounds on him from the sharp teeth that snapped at his arm in the quick but vigorous fight.

They were very, very fortunate to have made it out alive, and when he looks down at her face, he feels nothing but gratitude for the girl he previously saw as nothing more than his girlfriend's best friend. They went into the water as casual acquaintances, companions of convenience and the happenstance of being forced onto this island together, but they've come out of it differently. Now, they're friends.

Now, she's a Pogue.

He smiles at her, glancing up at their friends as their questions die down at the sight of his crazy grin, and says, "That was some real Pogue shit right there, Y/N." His eyes come back to meet hers. "I think it's about time we officially make you one of us. What do you think?"

She's opening her mouth to respond when Kiara cuts her off. The rest of them are staring at the trio as if they have ten heads sprouting from their bodies for not immediately surrendering more details of their near-death encounter other than saying she killed it.

"I'm sorry, can we please rewind to the part where you got attacked by a shark first?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a drumroll please for..."

The campfire is roaring with the abundance of sticks, leaves, and branches thrown onto the pile to fuel it as she feels a strong pair of arms looping around her thighs to lift her into the expansive, star-flecked sky.

In a flash of haunting memory, she relives the moment where JJ dove into the water after her and lifted her body above the surface to give her the high ground over the shark. She relives its thrashing hunger, the water splashing on her, and the cloudy hue of blood around them that she hoped wasn't either of the boys. For a second, as the world grows taller with her new perspective, she is brought back to the sudden shift she felt then and feels her stomach drop in panic, anticipating the danger.

But then the sound of her friends laughing, as well as the surging fire and crashing waves, comes back to her and forces the frightful flashback away. Her hip fits perfectly in the curve of John B's shoulder, and she lets her head fall back in giggling laughter at how he hoists her up in the air as though she's a holy figure of worship for the Pogues to kneel to.

His voice can likely be heard across the entire island when he shouts, "The Shark Conqueror!"

The group erupts into a triumphant mixture of cheers and laughter that fills the beach, everyone celebrating in their narrow escape earlier today...everyone except JJ.

After John B divulged the gory details of what happened, from JJ's fall to her picking up the spear and jumping in to save him from the shark, they made their way back with enough conversation to last the month. They all asked questions and took peeks back at where it happened in morbid curiosity, wondering how on earth they managed to come out of the situation without a scratch.

The rest of the afternoon continued on with the same buzzing energy that can only be created from the thrill of being alive. She's felt it many times since joining Sarah's group of friends that seem to find trouble wherever they go, but she has never felt it as vehemently as she does tonight. It's a mixture of euphoria, shock, and soul-crushing guilt for having to hurt another living creature, even one that was intending to make a meal of her friend.

No matter how much she grows up or discovers more about herself as a person, feelings never stop being as frustrating as they were to her as a child. You can get better at processing and hindering explosive reactions to them, but they never simplify. She doesn't know why she feels so much at once. She doesn't know why she feels simultaneously on top of the world and thrown off the edge of a cliff, but she thinks it has to do with him.

Since they walked back to the beach and talked about what happened until the day withered into night, which led them here to the “official” ceremony of her being named a Pogue for life, JJ hasn't spoken to her once.

Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot.

Much like how she avoided him all night last night leading into this morning, he doesn't talk to her. He tries not to look at her too from where he sits on the log of driftwood across the fire, but it's somewhat inevitable with the spectacle John B is making of her at the moment.

Painted in the warm tones of the firelight like a goddess in her own right, Y/N is impossible to look away from, and it makes him angrier than he already is. A handwoven circlet crafted from the hibiscus and hippeastrum flowers growing in the forest around their camp sits atop her head. It doesn't fall to the ground with the movement of her throwing her head back in laughter. It stays in its rightful place against the rule of gravity until her face comes back into view for him to quickly look away from.

It dampers her laughter to see him avoiding her gaze so adamantly, taking a swig of water from one of the small cups they carved from wood and turning to talk to Kie to keep himself busy. The distinct sensation of being on top of the world slips away with the feeling of his cold avoidance and John B lowering her back to the ground until her bare feet sink into the soft sand.

Before she can start sulking about it for the foreseeable future, Sarah steps up beside her.

The familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder brings her comfort amidst her confusion and hurt over the way JJ is acting, and when she turns to see a pretty face looking fondly at her, a warm smile finds her lips.

"Pogue for life?" Sarah asks.

The three words bring make her smile grow the same way it had when she was talking to JJ on the peninsula. It crinkles the skin around her eyes with its unrestrained happiness to hear them because, as much as she pretends to let JJ's comments roll off of her, tonight marks one of the first times she's felt at home with them.

That's not to say they haven't made her feel welcome in the past, they did, but this isn’t the same. This is closer, this is the type of bond that's forged in situations like these where people have no choice but to rely on each other or let their worlds collectively fall apart, and she thinks, for the first time, that she could live here with them forever if she must.

None of them know how much time has passed since they arrived here, least of all her, but it sure as hell feels like an eternity. At first, she could barely withstand the idea of living here for months with the intention of being rescued as soon as possible, but now...

She brings Sarah into an embrace tight enough to force the air from their lungs.

"Pogue for life," she echoes back with her face buried into the salt-scented tresses of dirty blonde hair cascading over her tan shoulders.

Would it be crazy of her to think that this is where they're meant to be? That they're her family and this place she has fantasized about escaping is now their home?

After all, the lush island provides everything they need to sustain themselves with the rationing, scavenging, and hunting routines they adhere themselves to. Freshwater runs down the land in a stream from a water source uphill, plenty of different edible plants grow in the forest, and there's so much left of the expansive land to explore; it's perfect. Everything here is perfect for them, calling out to them to make it their home, but there's one little problem as of right now, and he's sitting across the fire behind her back.

Sarah's arms squeeze around her shoulders once to bring her in even closer.

"Thank you for saving him," her voice is so hushed, Y/N can hardly hear it with her lips brushing the shell of her ear to whisper into it, "I'm not gonna get all mushy with you right now, but I don't know what I would've done if"—Sarah's breath hitches in her throat, and she shakes her head—"I just wanted to thank you."

When they pull apart, Y/N is looking back at her with a knowing expression, one that says everything she can't in the presence of the others, and Sarah can't help but mirror it.

It isn't long before the blonde-haired beauty is whisked away by her boyfriend to help him cook the crabs they caught closer to shore after their encounter with the shark. Not wanting to swim out or risk slipping off the rocks again with the dead fish promising to lure more predators to their area for the next week or so, they settled for hunting for shellfish and making good use of the fruits they find growing in wild abundance in the forest.

The night ticks away in swiftly passing minutes thanks to the humorous company of the people around her.

She nearly chokes on a mouthful of banana as Cleo tells a story from before she met them, when she used to live in Nassau and work jobs with Terence and Stubbs on ships. For such new additions to the group, they both fit surprisingly well with the lifelong childhood friends that sit around and banter with such ease together.

They talk, laugh, dance, and eat together, and there are moments when she feels happier than ever. There are moments exactly like when John B lifted her up and made her giggle at how their friends cheered on her behalf in indulgence of the silly "ceremony" they did, half out of boredom and half out of gratitude for what she did. But then she is reminded of the man sitting on the outskirts of the group with his features hardened into an expression of contemplation she wishes she could decode.

The night breeze feels heavenly on her perpetually overexposed skin. It blows into the fire and allows it to swell from the oxygen supply, crackling and popping embers out every so often like the spark of the zippo lighter JJ fidgets with in his restless hands. The movement attracts her wandering eyes while they should be focused on Cleo and Kie dancing around the fire with boisterous laughter while Sarah and Pope sing for them.

She keeps herself honed in on the opening and closing of the lighter under the guidance of his ring-clad fingers for the next minute or so.

They may have been pitting themselves against each other since they met, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know him well. If anything, the keen attention that her old hatred for him forced her to keep on him made her memorize everything there is to know. And she surely has picked up on the nervous habit of him playing with the lighter whenever he's thinking, whenever there's something crawling under his skin that he can't piece together.

He sits with his back to her, facing out toward the ocean so all she can see is the hand he uses to flick the lighter open and shut with. With a quick glance at the rest of their friends to see if any of them are watching or wanting to speak with her, she pushes herself up from the log and dusts her sandy palms on her shirt.

The tracks of her footsteps lead around the corner of the driftwood he rests against until her feet appear, sunken into the sand in front of him. It takes a lot of control to not allow himself to follow up the length of her body, panning up along her legs until he sees that infuriatingly tenderhearted set of eyes looking down at him.

However, he doesn't have a choice in looking when her hand outstretches in a silent invitation. His first glimpse of her in the last half-hour shows her jerking her chin in the direction of the beach curving around the bend of the island.

This morning, he probably would've taken her up on the offer. He would've done anything to get a few minutes alone with her, but now he can't see past his anger and doesn't know why. He doesn't know why it hasn't calmed yet, but, in truth, it has more to do with him than it does her idiotic yet brave decision to fight off a shark today. Trust him, it still has a lot to do with the idiotic shark thing, but the rest is lost in translation for him.

"Not in the mood," he dismisses her.

Her brows furrow and form a crease between them as she tries to find something to say but comes up with nothing. At least not until it clicks with her what he thought she was trying to do by inviting him to walk with her.

The last time they went off on their own together, it ended in an explosive encounter they have yet to erase from their minds. It's what greets them whenever they close their eyes for a second too long, existing in their wildest daydreams and fantasies whenever they have a spare moment to themselves. Hell, he can't stop thinking about it even when he's already occupied. It was the reason why he didn't catch any fish this morning before the incident that made him pissed at her in the first place. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Oh," she murmurs and starts to kneel down until her knees are sinking into the sand the same way she did when patching up his leg. Her eyes peek over his shoulder to ensure the others didn't hear them—"That wasn't what I meant...I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about today. It must have been a lot to process, since he's your best friend and all, and—"

JJ snaps, unable to tolerate it anymore, and stands up from his spot on the sand to move away from her.

"You don't need act all therapist with me, okay? I'm fine, and I don't need you to fix me if that's what you wanted. Today was fine. Everything's fine, so let it go."

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish with a loss for words. For the second time in the span of a minute, she is grasping blindly for something to say in the wake of him shocking her to silence. He's starting to walk past her but she doesn't let him. Her hand shoots out to stop him and holds onto his arm to turn him back despite his rudeness.

Underneath it all, her concern touches him deeply. It shouldn't trigger a reaction like this in him, so why does it? What about today set him off? He hasn't been this genuinely angry with her since before the hunt for the gold began, before she started to blend into their friend group and establish herself as one of them.

"Woah, woah, woah," she says, "I never said that. I thought that you needed someone to talk to. You know, as a friend."

Their friends start to notice their interaction tensing up now. Before, they didn't pick up on her stepping away for a second to check on him. Now, it's impossible to ignore what unfolds hardly six steps from where they watch as slyly as they can. The two of them haven't had a conversation as cold as this one in months, and what he says next takes it to a place that freezes over the connection they made last night and shatters the warm place it held in her heart.

He scoffs.

"We're not friends. If you think you gotta act different 'cause you threw yourself at me last night, don't bother. You hate me and I hate you. That's how it is."

No nicknames, jokes, or anything to act as a buffer, just cruelty. Rejection.

Though they truly were trying to pretend like they weren't paying attention, every single one of their friends stops and stares. A chorus of hushed reactions sound off from across the fire, and the faint sound of Kie muttering, "Oh shit," is the first thing to reach their ears. It's needless to say that none of them could've expected something so callous to come from him, not after what they saw when they ran up to them on the peninsula this morning.

With the way he was holding her then, doting on her and cradling her face between his hands even in the midst of his anger at what she did, they sooner expected the pair to admit they're dating than have a blowout like this.

In the delayed seconds it takes for her to realize what the fuck he just said to her, he watches her face shift from a look of concern to sadness, to flush-faced embarrassment, then finally to anger. Her teeth grind together, nostrils flaring on her inhale, and in one quick moment, she comes to a conclusion within herself.

She reaches up to rip the handmade crown of vibrant flowers off her head with flames to match the camp fire flaring up in her eyes for him. Before she can do anything, he already knows he crossed a line, if not multiple lines. It's evident in everything he sees, from the hurt look on her face to the force with which she shoves the crown into the center of his chest to send him stumbling back a few steps. Just like yesterday, except it couldn't be any more different.

"Fuck. You." She spits the words as though they're venomous, and he almost shrinks away under the intensity of her stare, “Go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be with me."

Petals flutter out upon impact against his solid chest and float peacefully to the sand around his feet as he watches her turn on her heels and storm off toward their hut. Though, after what he did and what she said to him as a goodbye, it isn't really theirs anymore, is it? At least not for tonight, tomorrow, or the next day until he finds a way to make her hear him out for an apology.

He stands there, frozen, the entire time he watches her leave. Nothing can move him from the spot, not even Sarah knocking her shoulder against his with a pointed glare on her way past to follow her into the moonlit darkness.

He doesn't even resist the disappointed looks he gets, or the shoulder check from Sarah. This time, he deserves it. He deserves every ounce of their judgment. All she was trying to do was make sure he was okay and he was too consumed in his unreleased frustration from today to see it. And, in a way, he's still frustrated over it, but it's greatly overshadowed by the guilt seeping through him.

The shadowy shapes of the two girls disappear into the small hut further down the beach, and JJ is left with nothing to do but look down at the flower crown clutched to his chest in regret.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx2 #this fic is so over the top and silly but I love it 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Golden Thread

Prompt: since Janus is Deceit, what if it takes a physical toll on him when he only tells the truth and doesn't manipulate anyone for a period of time? could you please write a oneshot where Janus is in a position where he really needs to to tell the truth, but he can tell he's getting close to his truth limit? - anon

Hey! I don't know if you're still taking requests for prompts (and I apologize if you aren't), but could you do Janus-centric fluffy hurt/comfort? And maybe a polyship? (If you want to, of course). - anon

Thanks for the prompts, babes! This was supposed to go up yesterday and I’m so sorry I forgot

Read on Ao3

Warnings: sympathetic remus & janus, other than that, it’s not that bad

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5874

There is a thread that winds through Janus’s tongue.

Thin, golden, finely spun with lies. It tastes sweet against the back of his teeth, the back of his throat. As he talks, it colors his words with a soft gleam, spinning and spinning into the air in front of him. It coils neatly around his throat as its spool and winks.

Most of the time its taste is enough to curl the corners of his mouth upwards into a smirk, watching it wind and weave its way around the others. Sometimes he thinks he can see other threads, clasping delicately around wrists, arms, knees, necks. Sometimes he can’t resist letting his threat tug them this way and that. Come on, what good is temptation if you never give in to it? He’s grown fond of the sweetness it leaves on his tongue, in his words. Saccharine as they may be, the haze they leave behind is more than enough to make up for it.

Sometimes the sweetness is too much. He swears he can feel cavities forming in the back of his mouth. His teeth start to ache. And sometimes…sometimes he doesn’t care. It’s too much fun to keep tugging this way and that at the others, too entertaining to let the thread unspool and unspool from his throat, filling the air with its golden light. His smile sharpens and the tangle grows, because what’s the fun of it without a little risk of hurt?

Other times he knows to back off. He adores the others, but no matter how fun they are to play with, he knows not to push too hard. At those times, he lets the sweetness spill off of his tongue, gently winds the thread back around his own throat. It always protests, the lack of sweetness making his tongue ache, the grip on his throat just a little too tight. But the looks on their faces…the begrudging gratitude, the sincere remark, or--god forbid—the poorly disguised hope…well.

Sometimes he wonders whether or not it’d be worth it to keep the thread fully wound.

Not that he ever would, it’s just a thought experiment.

It’s not like he wonders what it would feel like to have Patton be able to listen to him easily, not make it a fight to get his point across. He doesn’t want to have an engaging conversation with Logan about philosophy, ethics, science, anything just to hear the brilliant man talk. He refuses to entertain the idea of being a proper source of comfort for Virgil. He wouldn’t enjoy snarking with Remus just for fun and not because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

And he…

Well.

The idea of being able to have an honest conversation with Roman makes him fill to the brim, top to toes, with hatred.

He doesn’t have much of a choice.

He can speak a few times with the thread coiled up, just enough when it really counts. He knows the others, he can’t just play with them all the time, he’ll get bored. And they’re not really cut out for it. And as much as he loves to see them squirm out of their comfort zones, it’s not good for Thomas. That’s his real priority.

Janus pushes open the door to his room and sighs, taking his hat off and hanging it carefully up on its stand. He summons his cane and makes it the rest of the way to the desk, plopping himself into the chair and scrubbing his hand through his hair.

“They’re so slow,” he mutters as his fingers go to the clasp around his throat, “how do they ever get anything done?”

Well…they don’t. Not really.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves being the one to tug and twist them into the right answer, but he doesn’t want to be there all the time. They do know what they’re doing, they’re all good at their jobs, so…trying to manage all of that is exhausting.

The clasp at his throat falls away and he lifts his hand, craning his neck above his collar. There.

He knows the thread isn’t real; nothing here is real. Nothing of him can ever be real. But he can still feel it sometimes. Like today.

They’d been…talking. It wasn’t an overdue conversation, not in the slightest, and he’s had to be honest with them. Doesn’t mean he has to be honest with himself.

And isn’t that just his saving grace?

Janus winces as he feels the thread wind tighter and tighter around his tongue, pulling his gloves off to touch his throat, just to confirm that it’s not real. His fingers meet his scales and he sighs, missing the sweetness. It won’t be for long. This will blow over and tomorrow they’ll be back to everyone’s favorite regularly scheduled programming. He’ll make Patton blink in that adorably-confused way, Logan will be pinching the bridge of his nose trying to make everyone shut up and pay attention to Janus’s lies, Virgil will be hissing at him like a demented cat, Remus will be having the time of his life, and Roman won’t want anything to do with him.

Janus breathes a sigh of relief as sweetness starts to coat his tongue again.

See? It’s already working.

It doesn’t keep working, but you know.

The effort was there.

They’re talking again.

The living room feels dry. Has it always been this dry? Disguising it as a roll of his eyes, Janus tilts his head toward the ceiling. Huh. He’s never noticed that light there before. Has it always been there? Probably.

“Janus,” Patton calls, “can you—um—“

Rolling his eyes again, he looks back down, crossing one leg over the other. He hides the lack of sweetness by pursing his lips.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what I asked?”

“Of course I did,” he drawls, idly flicking the tips of his gloves together.

“…so what do you think?”

Honestly.

“He didn’t hear you,” Logan says quietly, and thank god the other brain cell has joined the chat.

Patton frowns. “Then why—never mind.”

Oh, Patton.

“I asked if you knew how to help,” Patton says, his hands clutched in his lap, “with the barrier breaking down. It’s been kind of rough from our side so…”

Right.

There hadn’t been a barrier up until a few years ago. Something had formed in the Mindscape, an invisible wall. It wasn’t real, of course, but it made walking through the hallways unnecessarily difficult. One of them would try to walk from one side to the other and be suddenly seized with a compulsion to do anything but. Or they’d be accompanying another Side back to the room only to freeze in the middle of the corridor and have to mutter out apologies. It’s exhausting. Luckily they’d still been able to sink in and out to get from place to place, but it’s not like the barrier actually does anything.

Janus sighs and uncrosses his legs. The thread leaps to the tip of his tongue, eager, poised.

“I don’t know,” he says instead, feeling the sweetness recede in disappointment, “I don’t know enough about how it formed in the first place.”

“It happened around the time of the series premiering,” Logan says thoughtfully, “perhaps it could be linked with the presentation of the Mindscape in the fanbase?”

Virgil snorts. “Like any of that is accurate.”

“You don’t know that, Virgil.”

“Um, excuse me, which of us spends the most time on Tumblr?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Where do you think most of the fanbase hangs out? ‘Cause it sure as hell ain’t Facebook.”

“That’s a shame,” Patton sighs, “I miss it.”

“You miss Facebook?”

“You know it does still exist, right?”

“Did Thomas ever even have Facebook?”

“The color palettes were nice!”

“You mean they were blue.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“…the point being I know a lot about what the fans do with the content we give them and most of that stuff is entirely made-up.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “As opposed to the made-up that the series is.”

“Shut up, L.”

“I’d rather not, actually.”

Virgil swats Logan’s shoulder half-heartedly.

Janus is smiling. Why is he smiling? He hasn’t lied enough for the sweetness to make him smile and it’s not like Remus has appeared with feet coming out of his head again. In fact, Remus is just…sitting next to Roman. Granted, he’s got his morning star in his lap dripping with god knows what, but there are no crazy shenanigans happening.

He watches Logan reach out and tangle his fingers with Virgil’s as Patton starts talking again. He watches Virgil nudge Remus’s tape back over to him when he drops it halfway through rewrapping the grip on his morning star. He watches Roman cover a flinch that he’d never have noticed if he wasn’t paying attention and sees Remus take hold of Roman’s costume and grip it tight in his fist.

The thread twitches angrily on his tongue as he tries to make sense of what’s happening.

“Has anything happened,” Roman asks as Patton pauses, “on your side?”

Virgil shrugs. “I haven’t noticed anything. But I normally sink straight to my room, so…”

“Remus?”

“You do realize that most of the thoughts that come into my head are the type that you guys would ignore anyway, right?”

Roman rolls his eyes too, but it’s fond. Affectionate. Janus is not.

“…Janus? What about you?”

The thread begins to sew neat little words into his tongue, all prepared for him to say. Yes, he’s noticed something, he’s noticed that the others are so much less fun than they used to be. No, he hasn’t noticed anything, it’s not like he’s the observant one.

Yes, he’s noticed that the barrier is fading and he hates it.

No, he hasn’t noticed anything because he spends as little time with the others as possible.

“I don’t know.”

Patton nods. “That’s okay, just…maybe try keeping an eye out? See if anything changes?”

“I will.”

The thread takes longer to undo that night.

Janus slumps onto his elbows and groans.

When did he become addicted to the sweetness? When did it get so hard for him to realize when he’s the one telling the lies and when the thread is telling the lies? When did he stop caring about the words coming out of his mouth?

The truth is, of course, that he didn’t.

He started caring more about the others.

The thread tightens in warning but Janus pushes it aside. He frowns, staring hard at the grooves in the desk. He started to care about them, not just as parts of Thomas’s personality that would help him do things, but as their own Sides. As them.

He cares about how Logan’s eyes light up just a little when he starts talking about something. He cares about how warm Patton speaks when they’re all there. He cares about how bouncy Remus gets when they talk to him. He cares about when Virgil’s eyeshadow turns all purple and sparkly. He cares about how hard it’s become to genuinely make Roman smile.

The thread groans.

Janus curses.

He can’t.

“The others aren’t important,” he hisses at the mirror, “Thomas is the only important one.”

The thread pauses.

“I don’t care what they want,” he continues, feeling it slowly start to unwind, “it only matters that Thomas is safe. That Thomas knows what’s going on.”

It starts to run back out along his tongue.

“Their thoughts and feelings aren’t important.” His hands ball into fists. “I don’t care about them.”

His tongue starts to taste sweet again.

“I don’t care about them,” he repeats in a whisper, “they aren’t important to me.”

The salt of the tears goes perfectly with the sweetness on his tongue.

————————————————

Something is wrong.

Something is horribly, desperately wrong and the others are panicking.

The barrier is gone. That’s not the bad thing. The bad thing is that along with it, everything in the Mindscape is rushing out of control.

The walls won’t hold. The doors lock and unlock more often than they stay in place. Floors disappear out of nowhere and open up into yawning black pits. The doors to the Imagination buckle and groan under the onslaught of rushing beasts from the other side. Something is fading.

They can’t sink out anymore. They need to know where everything is in order to do that. The place is a labyrinth. Only one entrance, one exit. There’s no way that they’ll know the right path unless they run it themselves.

Janus knows something is broken the instant his eyes open. He can feel it. Cracks wind their way through the walls, through the floor, the ceiling shakes. He’s out of his room in an instant, running through the halls, somewhere, anywhere, are they alright? Where are they? Have they faded?

“Virgil!”

“Janus?” Virgil flies into him at breakneck speed, clutching his cape in both hands. “Are you—what’s happening? Where is everyone? Did something go wrong? What’s happening to Thomas?”

The thread perks its end up eagerly but Janus swallows it down.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” he says quickly, pulling Virgil closer, “and you’re the first one I’ve seen.”

“I can’t find anyone,” Virgil pants, “I can’t—there’s no one—we’re going to fade.”

“We won’t, I promise. We just have to find the others.”

“Hello?” Another voice calls out from around the corner. “Hello, where the fuck is everyone? Who decided to break shit without me?”

“Remus!”

“That’s me, where the fuck—“ Remus barrels around the corner, almost knocking them over— “Virgil! Snake Face!”

“Remus—“ Virgil wraps Remus in his arms, clutching him tightly. “Where were you? What’s going on?”

“I was draining the viscera from a partially dissected sperm whale—“ of course he was— “but then everything started shaking.”

“We can’t find the others.”

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

They don’t even look back; Remus grabs Janus’s sleeve and Virgil still hasn’t let go of his cape, dragging him behind as they race through the halls. They can see where the barrier used to be, though with how much the place has shifted, it’s impossible to tell. Janus grits his teeth as they prepare themselves to smash through.

Nothing happens.

They just keep barreling down the corridor.

“Patton! Logan! Roman!”

“Where the fuck are you guys?”

“Can you hear us?”

“Re? Re, is that you?”

“Ro!”

Remus reroutes them effortlessly, barreling through chunks of disappearing floor and leaping over cracks forming in the tiles. Virgil hangs onto Janus as they go. Janus can’t let go of either of them.

“In here!”

A blade flashes through a crumbling chunk of wall and a hand reaches out. Remus grabs it and vaults through the opening.

“Oh my goodness, Virgil!”

“Pat—“

Another hand helps to haul him through the crack. The hand he has in his cape pulls uncomfortably at Janus’s neck.

“Where’s Janus? Did you guys see him?”

“Yeah, he’s right here, Ja—“

“Snake Face, get your butt in here.”

“Don’t just stand there, help you idiots!”

A sickening crack right above him makes him jerk his head up. His eyes widen as a massive chunk of ceiling starts to fall. Hands wrap around his arms, his clothes, even his waist and pull.

“Janus?” He blinks through the dust to see Logan staring at him, concern written plainly all over his face. “Are you alright?”

No, the thread sews, I am now trapped with the five people I abhor most in this world. I am the furthest from alright I could possibly be.

“Are you all alright,” he asks instead, lifting his hand to fix Logan’s collar, “I’m not hurt.”

“We’re fine,” Roman says, helping him to his feet, “we managed to get in here before the place really started coming down.”

“What’s going on?”

Patton’s shoulders slump at Virgil’s question. “We were hoping you would know.”

Janus bites back a curse, turning to look at the opening. It’s blocked now, completely choked in dust. He glances around.

“Where are we?”

“Safe room,” Roman says, tapping the wall, “something Remy helped us come up with.”

“Remy?”

“He’s a bitch but he knows what he’s doing.”

“Fair enough.” Janus grits his teeth. “So what do we know?”

“Who was awake when it happened,” Logan asks, “Roman and I were not.”

“I was also not awake,” Virgil mutters, “and I would really appreciate this not being how I wake up ever again.”

“I agree.” Janus glances at Patton and Remus. “I was asleep too. Remus, you said you were awake?”

“I was in the middle of an experiment!”

Logan perks up. “An experiment?”

“As much as I love watching you two be nerds together,” Roman breaks in, “can we do that later?”

“Of course.”

“Spoilsport,” Remus says fondly, “but it wasn’t me. I’ve done this experiment before, nothing I do could do…this.”

All eyes turn to Patton.

“…Padre?”

Patton shakes his head. “I…I don’t know. I had just gotten up to get a glass of water when it shattered in my hand.”

“It did what?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Let me see.”

“No, no, guys I’m fine,” Patton says quickly, holding up his hands, “but then the whole house started to shake. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on.”

Janus’s heart sinks. He’s telling the truth.

They’re stuck.

“Oh, god,” Virgil mutters, his hands flying to his head, “oh god, oh my god, no one knows what’s going on.”

“V,” Logan murmurs, crouching down and reaching to take his hands, “Virgil, look at me.”

“We’re going to mess everything up—it’s going to be so bad—what’s happing to Thomas?”

“Virgil, look at me, come now, it’s going to be alright—“

“How can you promise that?” Virgil’s voice starts to rise. “Have you seen what’s happening?”

“Easy, shadow-ling,” Roman murmurs too, his hand carding through Virgil’s hair, “just listen to Logan.”

“You’re doing well,” Logan encourages, rubbing Virgil’s arms, “just stay here, with me, alright?”

Janus watches Patton and Remus stand a little closer to the three of them, shielding them from the debris still raining down from outside. Something in his gut clenches.

Then he notices the tremors are slowing as the other calm Virgil down.

And it clenches more.

“It’s us,” he mutters quietly, almost too quietly for the others to hear, “it’s us. We have to stick together.”

The thread on his tongue twitches angrily. There’s almost no sweetness left in his mouth now.

Patton looks over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Look—“ Janus points at a crack in the wall— “they’re moving slower now. The closer we are together the less this place falls apart.”

Virgil’s next inhale is almost a sob.

“I really do just ruin everything, don’t I?”

“No,” Roman says firmly, wrapping his arms tightly around the shaking Side, “we’ve had this conversation, shadow-ling. You’re important to us. You’re not a burden. And this certainly isn’t your fault.”

“We need you,” Patton echoes, reaching down to rest his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “don’t go anywhere.”

“Don’t make us chase you.” Remus bonks his head into Virgil’s. “Not fun.”

Virgil still looks doubtful. Which, alright, isn’t his fault. Voices in the head, not to mention the general anxiety, it’s no surprise, not really. Janus clears his throat.

“Virgil,” he says softly, crouching down as well, “Virgil, listen to me.”

Purple eyes stare at him.

“You haven’t lost us,” he promises, “you won’t lose us. You’re important, not just for Thomas, but for us too. We care about you. All of you.”

“Fuck, J,” Virgil huffs, swiping at his face, “why’d you have to make me cry?”

The tremors keep settling.

Patton throws his arms around Virgil. “See? We care about you, kiddo. We love you.”

Something else twitches in Janus’s throat as he hears Patton say that. Virgil must notice it too; he looks up and squints at Patton.

“Have we ever told you that we care about you?”

Bingo.

Patton falters, his grip wavering. His smile wobbles. “W-well, no, not really, but that’s okay! I know you do.”

Logan tilts his head. “But you enjoy hearing it said.”

The smile slips even further. “…you don’t like saying it.”

“That’s no excuse!” Roman reaches over Virgil to get to Patton. “If you want us to say it, we can say it!”

Janus shifts his attention. “Patton?”

“…yeah?”

“No one takes care of us like you do,” he says softly, “and none of us care as openly as you do.”

Patton’s eyes widen. “Janus—“

“You try,” he continues, not to be interrupted, not now, “and that is perhaps the most admirable thing we could ask for.”

“He made Pat cry too,” Virgil mutters, pulling the now-sobbing side in for a hug.

“Happy tears,” Patton manages, “I—wow.”

A crack in the wall disappears.

“Is that what this is?” Logan looks around. “An…emotional problem?”

“We’re fading, the whole Mindscape is,” Janus says around the thread, “if we—if we stay, then we can fix this.”

“O-oh.”

That tone of voice always leads somewhere good. Sure enough, as he looks around, he sees Logan adjust his glasses and take a step back.

“And where are you going?”

“I’m not sure I can help,” Logan says flatly. “You have the answer already.”

“But we’re not done.”

“And what do you expect I can lend to this problem?” He spreads his arms wide. “I’m no expert on emotions, nor am I useful in proving things that are already true.”

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about, L?” Virgil scrambles up. “What are we proving here?”

“That you are important.” Logan frowns as Patton and Roman scramble up too. “What?”

“You’re implying that you’re not important,” Remus growls, “and I’m pissed about it.”

“But—“

“No buts!” Roman points a stern finger at him. “Believing yourself to be unimportant is a falsehood!”

“I never said I was unimportant,” Logan corrects, “I said I would not be helpful in this situation.”

“Bullshit. You helped me calm down.”

“So did Patton and Roman.”

“You figured out that I like being told that you guys care about me!”

“That was obvious.”

“Logan,” Janus calls softly to get his attention, “Logan, if you believe that anyone knows us better than you, you are gravely mistaken.”

Logan’s mouth drops open.

“You claim not to know emotions,” he continues, stepping closer, “but you know us, perhaps better than we know ourselves at times. You are kind, you are wonderful, and if you ever stop teaching us things, I am sure we would never recover.”

He slips Logan’s glasses back into position.

“You are not just Logic,” he murmurs, “you’re Logan. Stay. Be Logan.”

Logan swallows heavily.

“I must ask,” he says hoarsely as a tear rolls down his cheek, “if you intend to make everyone cry today.”

Janus chuckles. “No, I don’t, but it seems that it may be a side effect. I promise I’m not trying.”

“You won’t make me cry,” Remus remarks casually, “not without trying. I don’t care.”

Oh, Remus. Janus doesn’t bother to hide his smile at the indignant squawk from Virgil as Remus implies that he doesn’t care about the others.

“I don’t need to try to make you cry,” he says, “I’ve never wanted that. I just want you to be listened to.”

“…fuck you, Snakey.”

Patton lunges forward as Remus sniffles.

“Do we just like…not talk to each other, then?” Virgil wipes his nose. “Because I sure as hell don’t remember us getting this emotional about anything.”

Then Janus realizes that his mouth tastes bitter.

The thread has not been idle, he realizes in horror, not while he’s been spilling his guts to the others in an effort to hold them all together. It’s dragged itself over his tongue, scraping every last bit down his throat, winding tighter and tighter. His mouth tastes bitter. It’s not supposed to be bitter. It burns, scraping along the sides of his mouth until they smart. He swallows frantically. It’s not working. Nothing is working. It hurts. His tongue hurts. His throat hurts.

The floor wobbles.

He can’t catch his breath.

His eyes land on Roman.

No.

No, no, no, he can’t stop now.

Not here.

Not with Roman.

Roman just watches the others wrap their arms tightly around his brother still wiping snot from his nose. A soft smile curls at his mouth that never reaches his eyes. Behind him, massive cracks open up in the walls.

No.

He can’t let Roman fall.

Not after everything.

Roman notices he’s staring at him. He just raises an eyebrow.

“Going to make me cry again,” he asks softly, “or are you all finished for the day?”

The thread stabs words into his tongue until he can taste blood.

Well, it’s not like it’s difficult to make you cry.

If I had something that would work, I’d say it.

Only if you were a Side worth worrying about.

No.

No, no, he won’t say that. He won’t.

The thread tightens around his throat as a harsher warning. The bitterness on his tongue worsens.

“It’s alright, Janus—“ no, it isn’t— “I know you don’t like me much anyway. Don’t force yourself.”

At least you’re being considerate for once in your life.

Took you this long to figure it out, hmm? No wonder you’re called the stupidest Side.

Janus grits his teeth against the thread. It just keeps tightening. His mouth has never tasted sweet in his entire life.

He needs to tell Roman how important he is. He needs to tell Roman that they all have to start paying attention to him. He needs Roman to know that he’s sorry, sorry he ever implied otherwise.

All that comes out of his mouth instead is: “you need attention.”

Roman blinks. “Well, yes, I’d say that’s true.”

He has to tell Roman that Thomas needs him, needs him to be strong and healthy, to dream.

What comes out instead is: “you spend so much time stuck in your head.”

Roman frowns. “If that’s the best you can do, there’s no need to overexert yourself. I can make myself cry much easier than that.”

Why won’t his tongue cooperate?

The thread just tightens around him again. A warning. A threat. A promise.

He can’t tell the truth.

He can’t.

It doesn’t matter. Roman won’t know how important he is. He’ll think that Janus hates him and that’s fine.

Janus struggles to breathe.

“There are two Creativities,” he grits out, even if the ‘but only one Roman’ won’t follow.

“Patton is the heart,” comes out next, separate from ‘but he needs you to love.’

“We don’t need you,” hurts on the way out because it leaves behind ‘but we want you, we want you so badly.’

The Mindscape is crumbling. Janus can’t speak. The others are going to fade. He can’t help Roman. He’s ruined everything.

He’s forgotten what sweetness tastes like.

Roman is frowning at him. He stands, striding across the broken floor, eyes flint chips. Janus closes his eyes and braces for the hit.

Roman’s fingers hook into his collar and yank.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Why is it cutting into him?”

“How long has that been there, this whole time?”

“Janus—Janus can you breathe?”

What?

Janus opens his eyes in confusion. Roman’s still holding onto him but his eyes are fixed not on his face, but lower. Something shiny casts light onto Roman’s face.

“Janus,” Roman asks softly, “what is this?”

“What is what?”

“This,” Roman says darkly, fingertips tracing across something, “around your neck.”

No.

No, it’s not real.

It can’t be real.

…can it?

“It’s not a thread,” Janus spits out, his tongue smarting in the air, “and it doesn’t keep me from telling the truth.”

Roman’s eyes widen in horror. He reaches forward and Janus keens as the pressure tightens.

“Don’t stop,” he grits out, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“The sky is green.”

“What?”

“The sky is green,” Roman repeats, still glaring hard at Janus’s neck, “the Fourth of July is in October.”

The thread loosens.

“Remus, get over here,” Roman barks. A second later, two more fingers slip under the thread. “Now lie.”

“Um, ventricles are found in the liver.”

“Blue is made of red and orange.”

“The alphabet starts with the letter ‘m.’”

Logan catches on next. “The sun goes around the earth,” he says, nudging Virgil.

“Uh—“ he glances around— “Patton isn’t wearing glasses.”

“Paris is in Canada.”

“Books are printed on alligator skin.”

“Water isn’t clear.”

“Mark Zuckerberg isn’t the inventor of Facebook.”

“Earmuffs go on your hands.”

“Hamburgers are vegan.”

Lies spin out of their mouths. Remus grits his teeth as he pulls at the thread. Patton looks around frantically. Janus still can’t breathe.

The room is settling, slowly but surely, but there are still cracks snaking their way through the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Right under Janus.

Roman looks directly at him.

“I hate you.”

The thread gives.

The brothers yank, unspooling the thread from around Janus’s throat, throwing it at the walls. It freezes in mid-air, still glowing gold.

The cracks weren’t cracks, they were threads.

The golden thread melts seamlessly into the wall, knitting the place back together, stitch by stitch. The walls settle, glowing softly as the floor reconstitutes under them. The Mindscape breathes.

Janus hasn’t noticed any of this. He’s too busy collapsing into Roman’s arms, sobbing his heart out.

“Shh, shh, sweetheart,” Roman coos, “I’ve got you, you’re alright, you did it, come here…”

“He’s gonna be cold,” he hears someone—probably Virgil?—say over his shoulder, “grab a blanket. Can we sink?”

“Let me try.” A second later there’s another sigh of relief. “Yeah. We can. Let’s get him to the living room, I’ll get a fire going.”

“In the fireplace, this time, Remus!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“Come on, little snake,” Roman coaxes, lifting him up to a broad chest, “let’s get you warm.”

He’s still sobbing breathlessly, draped uselessly over Roman. He feels another set of arms as they sink into the couch.

“I’ve got him,” Patton says quietly, “hey, kiddo, can you hear me?”

The next sob is slightly higher.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, kiddo, you don’t have to speak right now.” Patton rubs soothing circles into his back. “Just stay right here with me, right here, the others are just getting the nest set up.”

N-nest?

“Give him to me, I’ll help him down while you slide in.”

“Make sure to get his head, he’s having trouble right now.”

“I understand.”

A warm hand cups the back of his neck, leaning his nose into the crook of a warm shoulder. Books, coffee, whiteboard pen…Logan.

“You’re freezing,” Logan murmurs, concerned, “let’s get you warmed up…no hyperthermia today, hmm?”

Janus almost groans in relief as his scales hit something thick and soft and warm. He’s still crying, isn’t he? Why?

“Hey, Snakey,” Remus mumbles, his hand under Janus’s head, “you gotta roll over, you’re gonna crush yourself that way. Come on—for crying out loud, you bastards, how long does it take to undo a clasp?”

“Got it.”

He suppresses a whine as his cape flies away, only for it quickly be replaced by a warm, warm blanket. He blinks his eyes open, straining to see through the tears. He can only see blobs. What is happening?

“Rest,” comes another voice, is that Roman? Isn’t Roman angry at him? He can’t stop the confused whine.

“Shh, shh, easy, little snake,” Roman soothes, running his hand through his hair, “breathe, that horrible thing was choking you.”

The horrible thread…is it…gone?

“Relax, come on, shh…easy,” he says earnestly when Janus whines again, “don’t work yourself up.”

“He’s gonna hurt himself if he keeps clawing at his throat like that.”

He’s doing what now?

Warm hands take each of his and…oh. Well, maybe he was.

“That’s it,” Patton whispers, “easy…”

“What…what’s going on?”

“You did it,” Logan says softly, stroking his thumb along the back of Janus’s hand, “you figured it out.”

“But—“ he swallows, still not used to the freedom in his throat— “I couldn’t do it.”

“You weren’t supposed to do it on your own, Jan-Jan. We all had to do it, remember?”

“That’s what you said, J.”

“So we did,” Patton finishes, smiling at him, “and it worked.”

“But—but I—“ Janus’s eyes flash up to catch Roman’s.

Roman, who sat there and didn’t protest when Janus couldn’t say one nice thing about him.

Roman, whom Janus has hurt so many times.

Roman, who pried the thread away from Janus’s throat without blinking.

Roman, who caught him, and is still here.

“Maybe the next time we talk,” Roman says softly, “we can do it without that thread around your throat, hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, little snake,” he murmurs, gently stroking a tear away from Janus’s cheek, “I know. But not right now, okay? You’re still crying.”

He is?

Oh.

“Close your eyes,” he encourages, his hand still cupping Janus’s face, “rest, we all need it.”

“Did we—“ his tongue is heavy— “did we ever figure out what happened?”

“I believe Thomas had something of an identity crisis,” Logan remarks, “but we can figure that out later. For now…we should all try and go back to sleep.”

“Great. Pop Star, budge.”

“Hey! Kiddo!”

“Ah. Much better.”

“Pocket Protector, stop pretending you don’t wanna cuddle and get down here.”

“In a moment, Remus, I need to take my glasses off.”

“Ro-Bro! Get over here.”

“Re, pulling me over Janus is not going to work.”

“L, are you coming?”

“Must you all be so impatient?”

“Yes, my dear darling nerd, now come here.”

Logan rolls his eyes and lies down, still holding Janus’s hand. On his other side, Roman leans Janus’s head into his chest and hums softly.

“There. Now we’re all together again.”

“Shut the fuck up, Princey, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Shut up yourself, then.”

“Kiddos.”

“Sorry, Pat.”

Logan chuckles. Remus shifts on the edge of the blanket nest. Roman tilts Janus’s chin up.

“Are you alright,” he whispers as the others drift off to sleep, “not hurt?”

Janus shakes his head. “I…was it really a lie?”

“Was what really a lie, little snake?”

“…you said ‘I hate you.’”

“Oh, that.” Roman chucks him lightly under the chin. “What does your mouth taste like?”

…sweet.

It’s sweet.

Oh.

Roman smiles. “Go to sleep, little snake.”

The Sides fall asleep in the Mindscape, threads wearing them tightly together.

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#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders

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yannowhatigiveup · 4 years ago

Text

New but True

This is the 10k+ one shot I was talking about. I finished it as quickly as I could yesterday (with aching muscles WHICH STILL HURTS-) Any way enjoy!

Wordcount: >13k

Damian didn't know how he was expecting his day to go but he didn't expect it to go like this.

He woke up a little earlier than usual which was an annoyance since he would be doing patrol late at night. His brothers were also being a pain when he arrived for breakfast, but that was normal. What wasn't normal was the fact that he had this aching feeling in his stomach, a gut feeling, that something would happen. He wasn't sure whether it was something good or something bad, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He didn't pay any attention to Dick as he talked about how Kor'i and Mar'i would be coming to visit. The eldest, being his overdramatic self, let out a huff of taken offense when he realised Damian wasn't paying attention. His thoughts were interrupted by Jason's annoying snark.

"Demon-spawn's love life is nonexistent, did you really expect him to listen?"

Damian inhaled sharply through his nose, took a sip from the cup of coffee he stole from Tim, reached for a knife and looked Jason straight in the eyes. "Your life will be nonexistent, Todd"

As he was about to throw it, Alfred materialized behind him. "Master Damian, no throwing utensils at the table"

The green-eyed boy huffed, finishing the rest of Tim's coffee off. He left to his room with no comment and when he reached his room, he changed to go on a walk.

He didn't have a specific area he wanted to go to, he just let his legs do the walking. He made it to a paint shop, an antique shop, a small drinks stand where he bought a small lemonade from and a quiet street. Then the feeling returned only much stronger. Damian then felt as if he was being watched. His eyes squinted and scanned the area surrounding him only to be filled with dread as a wave of exhaustion hit him. Somehow someway, someone managed to drug him. Soon the effects of the drug went in full motion and he sank quickly into darkness.

~~~

Damian, still half asleep, tried to move around, only to feel a chains bounding him to the floor. Now he was fully awake. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and he came to the conclusion that he was kidnapped by the League of Assassins. He was heavily and expertly bounded to the floor which was a bother. Then a voice made him realise he wasn't alone.

"Wh-where am I?" A faint, small and sweet voice asked in French.

Damian's head turned to the direction the sound was doing from, his vision was then locked with the other figure in the room. Green eyes met blue. Damon didn't know what to say after meeting the girl's gaze and instead observed her. She was beautiful, probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and she looked small, frail and weak. But Damian knew better than to judge people based on appearance alone. It could all just be an act, an image she's trying to portray. 'This girl has to be dangerous or has to have a great significance of some kind. After all, she was kidnapped too'. Damian was about to answer when an all too familiar voice answered instead.

"You're in the League of Assassins, little guardian" a female voice replied in french. Damian then turned to meet his mother's glare, giving Talia a glare of his own.

"...Why am I here?" Even though the girl seemed very fragile at that moment, her voice was intimidating.

"To be betrothed to my son"

"What?!" Both teenagers exclaimed in French.

"You heard me. You-" Talia pointed at Damian. "are the heir to the League of Assassins and you-" her finger pointed to the blue-haired girl. "are the Great Guardian, heir to the Order of the Guardians." she then crossed her arms. "It would be beneficial for both parties for this marriage to take place as it would create an alliance between the two opposing organizations"

Talia approached the blue-eyed girl first. "I have your kwami" she whispered furiously in French. "Go through with this, otherwise your kwami will take the punishment" Damian didn't understand what his mother was talking about and soon she was approaching him. "You refuse, the girl dies. You choose" she told her son in English. Talia was very certain the girl heard and understood her words.

He didn't know anything about the girl but he would be damned if he let her die. Damian and the figure both locked eyes again. Though neither face showed any emotion, their eyes conveyed a silent conversation, a silent agreement.

Talia didn't see this as she was already turning away from them. "You'll now be escorted to different rooms to change". At her command, more people entered the room.

~~~

He was forced into his assassin's gear and dragged to the alter, many assassins with weapons drawn warned him to remain where he was. Then the doors opened. The mysterious blue-

eyed girl was fitted in a dark red qipao, her long midnight hair, that was now let down, framed her face perfectly. If they weren't in this situation, he probably would have approached the girl himself.

Being brought back to reality, both him and the girl stood side by side, looking up at Talia who had a goblet filled with god knows what. The brown-haired woman then forcefully took the girl's hand and sliced her palm, letting the blood drip down into the beaker. Upon doing so, the blue-haired girl winced when the blade made contact with her skin. Talia then took Damian's hand and did the same, Damian didn't show any emotion when the action was done. The woman mixed the liquids and poured the concoction into two separate glasses. She chanted something in another language which he didn't bother listening to. Both Damian's and the girl's eyes locked once more before they both brought the chalices to their lips and drank. Damian ignored the burning from the liquid as it went down his throat but he saw the girl gulp in visible discomfort.

After the ceremony was complete, the newlywed couple were forced into a bedroom. Damian tried opening the door but it was, shut. He turned to face the girl who was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm truly sorry for these turn of events"

"I'm so sorry they dragged you into this"

Damian and the blue-eyed girl shared a small but saddened chuckle as they both talked, in English, at the same time.

"Like I said earlier I... I'm sorry you were forced into this" Damian murmured as he went to sit next to the girl, keeping some distance as to not make her uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna stop you right there" She put her hand up, indicating for him to stop talking. "You were roped into this as much as I was" the girl hesitantly placed her hand on his and surprisingly, Damian didn't feel the need to pull away. "The only person here to blame is your mother" her eyes widened at her own statement "Sorryifthatoffendedyou!"

Damian chuckled at her reaction. "It's fine. She only gets the privilege of being called my mother because she's biologically related to me" he thought for a moment and cleared his throat. "Since we're... married"

"We might as well try to make it work" she smiled at him and Damian felt his cheeks heat up ever so slightly.

He nodded. "Firstly, Hello, my name is Damian, Damian Wayne and I am your husband"

"Well hello too you too! I'm your wife and my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng... or is it Wayne now?" Marinette asked slightly flustered. Damian decided that he enjoyed seeing her flustered. He took the hand that was resting on his and gently kissed her knuckles. The bluenette's blush was far more visible now.

"Marinette" Damian hummed. "A beautiful name to suit a beautiful lady such as yourself"

She giggled, Damian revelled in the sound. "You're one to talk tall, dark and handsome" she abruptly stopped. "Wait, Damian Wayne?" Marinette tried to stifle her laughter but failed.

"What's so funny?" He shot her a jokingly glare.

"No it's just-" she tried to control her laughter and managed to lower it to giggles. "There's a girl in my class and she says that you and her are a couple"

The look of disgust on his face managed to throw her into a fit of more laughter. "The only woman that I love is my beautiful wife" he grumbled, pulling Marinette closer to him and wrapping his arm around her waist. Damian felt the blue-eyed girl's body freeze. "Sorry I-" he was cut off when Marinette leaned into his embrace, her head snuggled under his chin.

"I love you too, mon chéri"

~~~

In the few hours she really got to know him, Marinette fell for Damian, she fell hard. He told her about his pets and about Jon, his self proclaimed best friend. He then told her about his family, how they were actually the Bats and how infuriating they were, though she knew he loved them. In turn she told him about being Ladybug and the situation in Paris, he was furious about not knowing of this sooner. Even more so after finding out her relationship with her classmates but he kept his promise to not kill them, for now.

They hadn't noticed how much time has past until the sound of the door opening reminded the couple of where they were. Damian and Marinette both stood up, the bluenette slightly behind her husband as Talia entered the room. The older woman tossed a cage and a key at the two, she left without saying a single word. Marinette picked up the key and stumbled to cage, shakily turning the key. As soon as the cage door opened, the red blur flew out and hugged her cheek.

"Marinette I was so worried!" Tikki squeaked

"I'm glad you're okay Tikki!" The bluenette turned to the black-haired boy who was smiling ever so slightly at the reunion. "Damian this is Tikki, my kwami. Tikki this is Damian, my husband"

Damian stood and nodded curtly at the flying goddess. The kwami flew up, inspected for a second and hugged his cheek. Marinette giggled at the interaction. "He's right for you Marinette. But the moment I get my hands on that witch of a woman, I will get Plagg to deal with her"

Marinette, not wanting to stress her kwami best friend, suggested that Tikki get some rest and the kwami, though hesitantly, agreed. Now it was just Damian and Marinette awake. The green-eyed boy walked towards the window, Marinette followed suit.

"Tt, It's bolted down where we can't reach" Damian was referring to the window.

"I checked for any secret doors or passage ways, nothing"

"We need to escape somehow" he murmured. 'We could try to pick the door lock but there's an object obstructing the hole, only removed when the key is used. Kicking the door down could be an option but there could be assassins posted outside-'

"You look tired" Marinette's sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. "Go to bed"

"I can sleep on the flo-"

"It's cold sleeping on my own" she smiled up at him. Damian swore that her smile was brighter than the sun itself. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Alright"

Marinette was surprised at how well she trusted Damian despite the fact they had known each other for less than 24 hours. Yet here she was, cuddling up in her husband's arms. It was probably Plagg's influence giving her confidence. Then again, Damian must be thinking the exact same thing. She reached out to cover the black-haired boy completely with the blanket provided. When she was sure he was safe under the blanket, she kissed his cheek and snuggled back into his chest. They could escape later, right now she just wanted to spend time with Damian. Her husband.

~~~

A few days had past and they still hadn't made any progress of escaping. Though they had made progress in bonding. Despite the fact they had only been with each other for a few days, they felt as if they'd known each other for years. They knew each other's hobbies, favourite activities, body language. It's almost as if they could communicate through their eyes alone. Damian hate to say it, but he had to thank his mother for introducing the two. Though that small spark of gratefulness would soon flicker out.

One day, Damian woke alone. He noticed the lack of his wife's signature scent, vanilla and cherry blossoms courtesy of her shampoo, as well as the lack of warmth when he woke up. It hit him like a train, Talia took her. He stormed through the door, surprisingly it was left unlocked. He found his mother in a separate room, calmly drinking tea.

"Where. Is. My. Wife." He growled out. Talia looked at her son, put her cup of tea down and stared straight into his eyes.

"We've decided" she began slowly. "That we need more from their side of the bargain" A dangerous glint was in her eyes. "We've asked for the miraculous in exchange for protection but since they've refused, we're going void this bethrothal. By killing the girl. You are no longer needed here"

Damian's eyes were wide open. Marinette was the only person in the world he truly loved, she didn't judge him for his past and she didn't mind when he was stubborn and self-centered. He'd finally opened his heart to her fully, now his mother was going to kill her. His fists were clenched but before he could do anything, he was hit at the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

~~~

"Has Master Damian returned?" Alfred asked when he entered the living room.

"Nope, the brat's not home" Jason replied, too invested in one of his books.

"Is there something wrong, Alfred?" Alfred turned to where Dick was sitting on the couch, eager for his wife and daughter to return from Tamaran.

"Master Damian is usually home by now when he goes out for walks and it is almost time for dinner" he sounded as if he was going to say more but there was someone at the door so he went to see who it was, Dick followed thinking it was Kor'i and Mar'i. But before he left he told the other two men in the room to call Damian.

Jason tried first but succeeded no results. "You try Replacement"

Tim, who was losing it slightly as he had one less cup of coffee than usual, obliged, only to receive the same outcome. Getting slightly confused, he tried tracking his little brother's phone. Soon Mar'i came in.

"Hi Uncle Jay! Hi Uncle Timmy!" She looked around the room, her green eyes slightly glinting with sadness. "Where's Uncle Dami?"

Tim and Jason looked at each other, gesturing for the other to answer. Luckily Alfred stepped in. "He's out on a walk. Right now it's time for dinner so let's get you seated"

The little girl bounced with joy. "Okay Papa Alfie!"

The the two left, Bruce decided to walk in. He glanced briefly around the room. "Where's Damian?"

"He's not answering any calls or messages. I tracked his phone and-" he turned the computers screen around, showing a map with a circle indicating where Damian's phone was.

"Should we go get the Demon Brat now B or?" Jason asked.

"You can go Jason"

The second eldest went to the batcave to suit up and Tim sent the location. It lead Red Hood to a quiet street, and an unsupervised phone. He picked it up, saw all of the notifications on it and looked around the area. No Damian in sight. What was insight though, was a cup of lemonade, nearly finished. 'This is getting very weird very quickly' Red Hood figured it would be best just to take it back in case.

When he got back, he put the lemonade through for testing and went upstairs for dinner, Damian's phone in hand. When he arrived he was met with all the stares of anticipation. He sighed and put the phone on the table.

"I didn't find Demon Spawn" nearly all of the table sighed. "All I found was lemonade, didn't know he drank it"

"Did you get it tested for any sedatives?" Dick asked, worried for his little brother.

"In the cave now"

"Tim, he has a tracker on right?" Dick turned to the coffee-deprived boy.

Tim nodded and pulled his phone out. "It must've got damaged somehow, it's not appearing on the map"

"Has it got a tracked history of where he's been?" Bruce cut in. Tim fiddled with his phone for a moment.

"His last tracked location was the same location where we found his phone"

"Is Uncle Dami gonna be okay?" The small girl's voice echoed in the room.

"Don't worry my little bumgorf, I'm sure we will find him" Kor'i reassured her daughter.

Soon dinner was finished, Kor'i took Mar'i to her room so the others could find out what happened. When they reached the batcave, the lemonade, the only piece of evidence they had, had traces of a very strong sedative that would've knocked Damian out in seconds. They went out on an earlier patrol to see if they could spot the green-eyed boy. Nothing. On the regular patrol, no villain had claimed to taking Damian. Again, the patrol received no results.

"I'll try calling Jon" Dick's worried voice whispered.

After a few rings, Jon picked up. "Hi Dick! What's-"

"Have you seen Damian today?"

"No I haven't, why is something wrong?" The boy asked, getting worried for his best friend.

"He's not picking up his phone and his tracker for damaged"

"...o-okay I'll keep an eye out for him"

Dick thanked the young superhero and shook his head to all the people in the room. They all collectively sighed. 'Where did you go Little D?'

~~~

A few days passed and they still had no luck. Jason was getting worried, 'The Joker better not have him'. Though Damian is a little shit at times, he was still his younger brother. Jason was always the first to get out and look for him, he was one of the last people Damian talked to that day, and he wasn't necessarily happy about what he said to him beforehand. If he was captured, tortured and/or killed by the Joker, Jason would never let the feeling of vengeance grow.

Red Hood surveyed the area and his head darted in the direction of what sounded like a struggle. He alerted the others through his comm and headed towards the noise. It came from two hooded figures and...

"Hey!"

The hooded figures froze at the sound of his voice. They quickly left the area not before harshly throwing the third figure at the nearby wall. Red Hood ran up to the boy and he was right. It was Damian, battered, bruised and unconscious. But he was alive. Red Hood scrambled to his side, carrying him on his back. "I found him but he's not doing too good"

"Bring him back to the batcave, Agent A will take care of him. In the meantime, return to patrol"

When they had all finished, they returned to the batcave where Alfred was hovering over Damian, who was on a bed, covered in bandages.

"Master Damian is recovering quickly, he'll wake up soon" Alfred reassured the worried family.

Though not most of them wouldn't admit it out loud, they deeply missed and were incredibly fretful for their youngest. Bruce, Dick, Tim and even Jason all sat around Damian. Only after Alfred assured them to bed did they leave the boy's side.

Tim woke up early, as usual, and he decided to fix himself a cup of strong coffee. He grabbed his laptop from the living room and instead of doing work there, he went down to the batcave at sat besides Damian's bed. He'd felt a pang of sadness when his younger brother didn't return home a few days earlier as he didn't interact at all will him before he left.

Tim didn't register when Damian left, or the fact that Dick was talking, or even when Jason kept throwing remarks here and there. The thing he did register though was the fact that his coffee cup was no longer in his reach. "Who took my coffee?" He tried to sound threatening but it came out as tired and completely done.

"Demon Spawn took it" Jason scoffed.

Tim then reached for the familiar cup from across the table, only to find it empty.

"How dare he drink my coffee" Tim growled, a new source of energy arising from his anger. "The brat's definitely going to get it later"

All too soon, it was time for breakfast. Tim got up to leave only to stop when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. The coffee lover turned to face a half conscious Damian.

"You're okay! Little D's awake!!" Tim shouted to get everyone's attention.

"Could you not burst my eardrums Drake?" The green-eyed boy grumbled, his head still throbbing from the hit he had taken earlier.

One by one, the others filed into the batcave. Dick gave Damian a big hug, Tim flashed a smile of relief, Jason ruffled the boy's hair and Bruce gave a small hug followed by a pat on the head. Throughout the whole ordeal, Damian had blank stare. No scowl, no unpleasant looks. Nothing. No one knew what had happened, only that it wasn't good. Soon, Mar'i came running in and jumped onto his bed, squeezing him in a hug.

"Uncle Dami we were so worried!" The little girl sobbed. Though the contact did hurt, he pushed aside the pain from the injuries and patted his niece's head.

"I'm back now"

"Where did you go?" Mar'i's eyes shone in burning curiosity. It reminded Damian of Marinette, the first thing she said had the same curiosity.

"It doesn't matter" he choked out. The others must have mistook the question as a trigger for a bad memory as they instantly changed the subject, they had no clue of the real reason.

"If you are well rested, Master Damian, would you like to join us for breakfast?" Alfred entered the room, his eyes were empathetic. 'Pennyworth knows what happened, he always knows'

"Yes, thank you Pennyworth" Mar'i jumped off so Damian could stand up. He suppressed a wince as he put pressure on his right foot. Slowly, the others left to go upstairs and Damian was left alone with his father.

"Damian" The green-eyed boy looked up to where Bruce was standing. "What happened?"

"Mother" he states simply, he didn't need to add anything else.

"What did she do?"

"..." Damian didn't answer at first, he looked away, wanting to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Bruce patiently waited, however. The green-eyed boy's head lowered to the ground but his gaze was fixated on his father. They had a deadly, destructive, toxic tint that even disturbed Bruce. But he said nothing, not a single word left his mouth and whatever he wanted to say seemed to die down in his throat. Damian took a few steps to one of the exits before stopping and turning back towards Bruce. "I appreciate your concern, father" Damian's lips twitched, forming a small smile, and he walked away, trying not to show he was limping.

Bruce watched as his youngest walked, limped, away. Whatever Talia had done, it had taken a toll on Damian. Mentally and Physically. He wanted to know exactly what happened so he could give the help the green-eyed boy needed. For now, he'll let his son relax and heal, he deserved it.

~~~

Marinette woke to a lack of warmth and the lost feeling of strong arms around her body. One of her eyes fluttered open, she was in a different room, one she didn't recognise. The bluenette began to panic and searched for the door, it was locked.

"Dami?"

No answer.

"Tikki?" Luckily, the small goddess was in the room.

"I tried to stop them but they knocked me out, I'm so sorry Marinette!" The blue-eyed girl was quick to reassure her kwami when she heard talking down the hall.

"Where. Is. My. Wife."

Marinette immediately recognised it as Damian's voice. She wanted to call out but it would be a stupid move, there could be assassins posted in front of her door, she could put Damian in danger, the possibilities were endless. So she just listened.

"We've decided... that we need more from their side of the bargain. We've asked for the miraculous in exchange for protection but since they've refused, we're going void this bethrothal. By killing the girl. You are no longer needed here"

The blue-haired girl then heard the sound of something heavy being used to hit someone, then a loud thud. Marinette had to cover her mouth so that her scream would be muffled. She had to get out of there. Now. The bluenette didn't want to leave without Damian, but he would want her to escape. She quietly transformed and went to the window in her room, it wasn't bolted down like the room she was previously in so she used her yo-yo to break it down. And she ran, she ran as far as her legs could take her. When she was positive she was safe, she took her yo-yo and called the one person who could get her out of there.

"Pegasus?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she held back tears.

"Ladybug! We're getting worried, where are you? A Parisian citizen is missing and there's an akuma attack currently going on and if you don't get here we'll 100%-"

"Can you get my location, please?" Ladybug pleaded, hoping that the horse hero wouldn't get mad for cutting him off. Other than the occasional computer keyboard sounds, the line went silent. "When you do, please don't question where I am. Can you teleport me back to Paris?"

"Got it Ladybug" the ladybug hero then heard a muffled 'Voyage!' in the background and a portal appeared in front of her.

The portal lead to the Eiffel Tower and in front of her was a worried Pegasus.

"I'll explain everything later, let's deal with this akuma first"

~~~

After a difficult akuma and a Lucky Charm in the form of fairy lights, Ladybug felt her walls crumbling.

"Ladybug!" Chat's voice echoed from behind her. The black cat hero was followed by Pegasus, Ryuko and Honey Bee, Chloe's new hero mantle. "What happened? Where did you go?"

Before she could answer, Pegasus spoke up. "Sorry to interrupt but my miraculously about to run out and I need to return it"

"Oh right, come with me Pegasus" She lead him to a nearby building and he detransformed, leaving Max standing where the horse-themed hero once was.

"My friend Marinette is still missing, can you-"

"She's safe don't worry, she'll be home soon" After bidding Max goodbye, she returned to where the other three heroes were waiting.

"Alright Buginette, explain" Honey Bee exclaimed as soon as Ladybug arrived. Though the spotted heroine didn't seem to be listening. "Ladybug-"

She detransformed, wearing a black qipao with floral embroidery, and Tikki hugged her cheeks as tears rolled down them. The others were quick to rush to her side.

"Mari-hime... what happened?" Ryuko began slowly.

"I think it's best if she explains this at home" Chat Noir suggested.

"I'll take her, you two detransform and meet her at home. I'll come up with a cover story" Honey Bee said, carrying the woeful bluenette.

When Kagami and Adrien arrived at the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, Marinette's parents were busy in the baker but explained the story that Chloe had told them, how Marinette was a target for one of the Akumas and needed to leave immediately. They said she was up in her room. The two were about to walk up the stairs when Chloe burst though the door behind them, out of breath, and walked with them. As they opened the trapdoor in Marinette's bedroom floor, they found the bluenette sat on her chaise, being comforted by the small red kwami.

"You know how strong Damian is, Marinette. I'm sure he managed to escape and I bet he's as worried as you are right now" the three heroes heard Tikki say.

"Whose Damian?" Adrien asked. The bluenette only seems to then notice that there were others in the room with her. She sighed and gestured for the three to sit in front of her, which they did.

She took a deep breath. "So a few days ago I was kidnapped by the League of Assassins. They were the organization that the Order of the Guardians had been opposed to for so long. Their current leader decided it would be best to end this conflict and had me, along with her son, kidnapped for an arranged marriage. Damian is her son and before you bash him or something, he was just as forced into it as I was. He turned his back on his mother and the league years ago and I don't hold him for his past."

"Since the betrothal was sealed with magic, we both knew that there was no safe way around it so we decided to work with it. I got to know him, he got to know me et cetera. And I kinda fell hard for him. Earlier today I woke up in a different room than the one I had been locked in, luckily Tikki was with me. I didn't know where he was but I heard Damian confront his mother about my whereabouts. Then when she revealed she was planning to kill me, she injured Damian so that he would be unable to save me and I ran away." She composed herself and looked at Adrien's, Chloe's and Kagami's expressions.

"Now I don't know if Damian is okay or if he still loves me or if he hates me for leaving him behind-" she began rambling on again as her friends were still processing the information.

"Dupain-Cheng!" Chloe shouted, stopping Marinette from maundering on any further. "So you got kidnapped, you got married... and now your worried your husband hates you because you escaped?" The bluenette nodded slowly. "You get left alone for a few hours and you're already married..." she teased, trying to lighten up the mood.

Marinette's cheeks were tinted red but her expression didn't change otherwise. "You said he's the son of the one who kidnapped you right?" Kagami asked.

"Y-yeah"

"Does he know how to use a sword? I wish to duel him to see if he's worthy of your love" she stated simply. Adrien chuckled softly and Marinette smiled slightly.

"What's his last name as it's also your last name now?" The blue-eyed girl's cheeks got redder as she cleared her throat.

"Wayne, Damian Wayne"

If Chloe was drinking a something she would've done a spit take right at that very moment. "Damian Wayne? As in the son of Bruce Wayne the billionaire? The one Lie-la's lying about dating?" Marinette nodded.

"You were saying earlier that you think he might not love you anymore right?" Adrien tried to distract the girls from Chloe's spluttering.

"...yeah what about it?"

"Well you also said he confronted his mother right? Well he must've truly loved you to just go and yell at a dangerous person who was also the person holding them captive. Though you haven't really told us what he's like, I doubt he would just stop loving you like that" Kagami emphasized his point by snapping her fingers.

Marinette smiled. "Thanks for coming to talk but right now I'm exhausted"

"We'll leave you to sleep, Mari-hime" The Japanese fencer then pulled the two blondes out of the room as they both wished her a good nap. Marinette kept a smile until they left, it slowly fell and Mari sank in the pillows of her bed. It didn't feel right to sleep without Damian. She felt... incomplete without him by her side. The tears rolled down again.

~~~

It had been a few days since Damian was found and, honestly, he wasn't doing that good. He'd been quiet, ignoring all remarks from his brothers, hadn't issued any death threats, even his pets didn't seem to bring him more joy. What confused the bat brothers the most is whenever someone would call out for Mar'i, Damian would always glance at the direction of the sound, only to have a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes when he saw his niece but he would always put on a smile for the small girl, sometimes genuine, most times forced.

They didn't have a clue how to crack the case so they got the next best person to obtain information for the green-eyed boy. Jon.

When Jon appeared at the door, Alfred was quick to lead him to Damian's room. The sooner Damian had someone to talk to, the better. "Master Damian, you have a visitor"The door was unlocked so Alfred lead Jon in and promptly left afterwards.

There was silence between the two ad Jon sat down on the floor in front of his best friend, who was sitting on the end of the bed.

"Dami? Do you wanna talk about it?" Jon waited patiently for the green-eyed boy to talk. After a few heartbeats, Damian sighed.

"Mother kidnapped me for an arranged marriage" he murmured. Jon gasped lightly as Damian continued. "She and I were both kidnapped and forced to go through with it. That's how I got...this" He lifted his hand to show faint but noticeable, curved scar, made by a very sharp blade. After a few seconds, Damian put his hand back down. "We were trapped in a shared room so we took that opportunity to get to know one another"

Damian didn't continue after that and Jon came to a conclusion. "You realised you love her"

He nodded. "Now, it's my fault that she's been tortured. Because I wasn't fast enough to protect her..." This was probably the first time Jon had seen his best friend visibly melancholic so he gave him a small hug and surprisingly, Damian wasn't bothered to push him away. "I am so pathetic"

Jon noticed someone at the door, Dick perhaps, but he doubted they they heard anything as Damian's voice was above a whisper so that only Jon could hear. After hearing the person walk away, he decided to lighten the mood. "What's she like?"

"Beautiful, kind, smart, resourceful... She's the living embodiment of sunshine, a breath of fresh air. She isn't quick to judge and she's always got a plan in her head. She's persistent too, and it's adorable when she gets flustered" Damian smiled lightly to himself.

"What's her name? What does she look like?" If talking about this girl made the green-eyed boy happy, then that's what Jon will do.

"Her name's Marinette. Blue hair, blue eyes, short" Damian chuckled lightly. "A smile brighter than the sun itself" he paused. "I don't think she's dead, she's too strong to go down just like that. But I think she's absolutely livid at me."

"She loves you a lot right?, then she wouldn't be" Jon reassured his best friend. "I gotta go now but feel free to talk about her, kay?" Jon almost left the room but was stopped by Damian's voice.

"Hey, Kent" he turned. "Thank you"

Jon smiled brightly before leaving the room, he went down stairs to the living room and was greeted by Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Alfred and Kor'i.

"Well?" Jason pushed, eager to know what was bothering the brat.

He wasn't sure what to say until he heard Alfred whisper. "Let the young master tell them"

Jon shook his head. "Not my place to share. I'm sure he'll tell you eventually though, he just needs time to find the right words" 'He can't just waltz in and say "I got betrothed and now I think my wife hates me cause I left her at the mercy of my mother" They'll think he went mad!'

Bruce sighed. "Thank you Jon, how bad was the situation he was in?"

All the adults in the room were on edge as Jon took so time to formulate his answer. "The aftermath hurt him a lot" the others nodded.

"Wait" Everyone turned to the origin of the sound, Kor'i. "Why does Little D always tense when he hears Mar'i's name?"

"Yeah he does seem to do that" Dick murmured.

Jon was silent for a few seconds, 'What am I supposed to say? Damian's wife is called Marinette and "Mari" is probably a nickname for her. And your daughter just so happens to have the same name!' "Uh, Well Damian himself will have to explain that" The couple, though seemingly unconvinced, nodded.

"Thanks for your help, Jon"

~~~

A few months have past, Damian has slowly gotten better but he still hasn't quite been the same. He'd always have a scowl, as normal, and he'd issue death threats but only after a lot of probing. He'd also refrain from using his katana and other sharp utensils as a first resort. It was scary to say the least. He'd also spend a lot more time in his art room. Though he never displayed any emotions on his face, Damian's brothers noticed how whenever the green-eyes boy was upset, he'd always run his thumb on a long scar on his palm. Obviously from when he was kidnapped.

No one found out what happened as they never asked. Though they were curious. The curiosity grew when Jason managed to sneak into Damian's art room.

Jason was walking around the manor, looking for one of his guns that one of his brothers had hidden, he still didn't know who did it. Somehow, he found himself in front of the door leading to Damian's painting room and surprisingly, it was unlocked. Wanting to look for his missing gun and definitely not wanting to snook around, Jason waltzed in.

Briefly looking around for his gun, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasn't in this room but he stayed to look, admire, at his youngest brother's paintings, his fingers stroked through his two-toned hair. Though he would never admit it, Damian had real skill. One painting in particular caught his eye. It was small but held incredible detail, it looked like a scene frozen in time, but the detail wasn't what caught his eye.

The painting itself was of a long, sharp blade, it was covered in blood. Two different shades of blood. Jason suspected that this was the blade that caused the scar on Damian's palm, further supported by the still drying paint. Most of the paintings before the incident were either of the family or just landscapes, it was no coincidence that this painting was of a memory of what happened the the period he was taken.

Noting that the Demon Brat arrived back from patrol at 4 am, he was probably still asleep, Jason took the painting to bring to the living room.

"Any luck finding your gun?" Tim questioned mockingly.

"No" Jason replied in the same mocking tone but it quickly changed into a serious stare. The other adults noticed this change. He turned the painting in his hand around so that the artwork faced the audience. "I think I found a clue"

When that happened, they watched the boy's moves much more carefully. As well as monitoring the paintings in his room. Thankfully, the other paintings weren't of what happened, they returned to simple family portraits and landscapes. Though it could be debatable as they still had no idea what happened.

Bruce decided to host a competition, where the prizes would be an all-expense paid trip to Gotham and tours of WE for the next generation of work force, it was to write a letter detailing accomplishments and good-deeds as well as those who inspired the writer. He was going through the entries along with all his sons, Damian insisted on reading the ones he was given in his room, though not all of them wanted to help willingly. Expect for the occasional tapping at the computer's keyboard and thoughtful hums, all was silent in the manor. The silence was broken by Tim.

"Hey I like this one" he sipped on his coffee as Dick came to read the letter over Tim's shoulder.

"I think we found a winner" Dick chimed as Tim sent it to Bruce.

When he got it he read through it carefully. This was definitely one of the best they had received. "Very detailed, descriptive, the punctuation is on point, there's a tribute to their heroes as well" Bruce hummed. "Who's the one who submitted this?"

Tim squinted at the computer screen. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, from Paris"

"You're gonna do a background check on her, aren't yo-" Jason paused mid sentence. "Why did the lady mention heroes?"

~~~

A few months have passed since the newlyweds were separated, Marinette still missed Damian every day. Adrien, Chloe and Kagami still didn't know how to cheer the bluenette up, they hadn't told Luka yet either as they were aware he still had lingering feelings for the blue-eyed girl. That was until one day a certain competition caught the school's eye. One being hosted by a certain Bruce Wayne.

When Marinette entered her classroom early, for once, Chloe and Adrien were already waiting for her. "Look at this Mari-bear!" The female blonde shoved a flyer in the bluenette's face. Marinette took it from Chloe, her eyes getting wider as she scanned it.

But he time she was done, one had was covering her mouth as her eyes began to water. "If you enter you'll get a chance at winning and that means you'll get to see Damian again!" Adrien encouraging smile was blinding.

The bluenette nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna enter" Just as she finished her statement, the bell rang and the rest of the students filtered in and once all the students were seated, Miss Bustier entered. She was surprisingly on time, for once.

"Class, I have an important announcement to make" The incompetent teacher clapped her hands to gain the class' attention. They settled down after a few minutes. "As I'm sure some of you have heard, Bruce Wayne as announced a competition which the price is a trip to Gotham!"

"My Damiboo must've begged Bruce to host this competition as he could see me again" Lila gasped dramatically, her fake, faker than her tinnitus, crocodile tears threatened to spill. "I-I w-w-wasn't supposed to s-say a-a-anything. Please d-don't tell anyone!" The bluenette had to bite back a growl and merely settled for glaring daggers into the brunette's skull.

"We won't girl!" Alya comforted the liar, glaring at Marinette and Chloe at the back, as if daring them.

"Even if the competition was made for Lila to return for Gotham, we still need to have a good entry" Miss Bustier specifically landed her gaze onto Marinette, pushing all her responsibilities onto the bluenette, yet again. "I'll leave you to plan" The redhead teacher left the classroom, not even staying for a full 10 minutes. Marinette sighed and turned to Chloe.

"I'm going to write about our achievements as citizens, I hope I get chosen. I really want to see Damian again" The bluenette murmured, the blonde hugged her best friend.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll win. Then you and your loving husband will be reunited" Chloe's tone changed from sincere to teasing when she mentioned Marinette's husband. The bluenette flushed and went to ask Mlle. Mendeleiev if she could work in her classroom.

The science teacher had become Marinette's favourite teacher in the entire school, she saw through Lila's lies and did approach the brunette about them. Lila did her charm but Mlle. Mendeleiev never fell for it, merely making the liar believe she had. The science teacher never properly took proper action against the student in fear of losing her job but she did keep a folder of evidence against Lila, one that was shared with Marinette so when the time came, the bluenette would have enough evidence to fully bring the liar down. She was helpful for her teacher's help. To no surprise, Mlle. Mendeleiev allowed Marinette to do her entry for the competition in her classroom and quickly the bluenette got to work.

Miss Buster only just announced this and the school only decided to hang the flyers when the due date was five days away. Not to mention it had to be written in English, it was hard enough writing something long, let alone in another language, even though Marinette was fluent in said language. Though it was a pain, it was nothing a few dozen cups of coffee could fix. Surprisingly, Marinette managed to finish it on the second day. Though she still had to proofread it as well as make sure it all made sense. On the third day, she was confident with her letter. Adrien, Chloe, Kagami and Luka all came to read it so the bluenette would be sure it was good enough to send. Once giving their praises, she hit send. She just hoped her father-in-law thought it was good enough.

A few days later, Marinette got her answer.

She arrived early that day, surprisingly, Chloe was in the classroom waiting. "Well?" The blonde stated impatiently, Marinette titled her head in confusion.

"What?"

"The email!" Chloe shook her head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It took a few moments for Marinette to process what her friend was saying. When she did, she jumped into her seat and opened her phone, her fingers shaky with fear and anticipation.

Dear Miss Dupain-Cheng

It's a great honor to tell you that your entry, out of the thousands that were submitted, was chosen as the winner for this competition.

As I first read through the letter you presented, I was intrigued and touched with the actions you and your classmates have done for your community. Each deed was different in it's own write and it was a great pleasure to have read through each and everyone, though, not many of your own had been written down. When you arrive at Gotham, I'd be delighted to hear your own achievements as I am sure, as proven by the way you spoke of your classmates, you have plenty of your own. I was also deeply touched at how you had a tribute to your own heroes in Paris. I was not aware before this that there were such important figureheads in the city so reading about them in your entry was fascinating to say the least. It was also a delight to read how the vigilantes of Gotham inspired you to help others.

The permission slip for the trip is attached to this email, please make sure the one in charge of your classroom has it signed for each student who wishes to attend. I'm sure you are aware that Gotham is a dangerous city and although we are taking extra security measures, it would be advised to have the class debriefed so they know what to expect in case a situation were to occur. If there are any requests or questions, please do not fail to contact me. I look forward to meeting you and your classmates when you arrive.

Congratulations once again,

Bruce Wayne

Marinette could barely hold back the tears of happiness building up in her eyes, Chloe got up and hugged the girl in celebration. Adrien came in soon after, both blondes hugged their best friend with too much force. Though it couldn't last long as the others were starting to file in.

"Class, I have some good news!" Caline Bustier announced. "We are the winning class for the WE trip to Gotham!" The class erupted into cheers, for a moment, Marinette was reminded of the simpler times when she just started out as a hero. Lila just had to ruin it.

"My sweet Damiboo!" The brunette had a hand on her heart, sighing dreamily. "I'm so lucky to have a kind, sweet and caring man as my boyfriend" The bluenette had to hold back a snort at the description, she settled with a small scoff.

Lila knew she was taking a risk a few days ago, saying that her 'Damiboo' had rigged the competition so that they could be together again but it was a calculated risk. Though she would never admit it out loud, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a great student. Marinette is well-educated, well-informed, possibly well-born and the bluenette used to be well-loved. Her winning this trip just proved it but Lila wasn't going to let the girl claim the winnings. The brunette suspected that Marinette would at least try to hint at winning, but she didn't. It was an unordinary occurrence, 'Maybe she realised she's no match for me'

"Now I need you all to signs these permission slips and return them to me by tomorrow" Caline handed out the papers and promptly left afterwards, despite having yet to do a lesson. But that didn't matter to Marinette. She was staring at her palm, her thumb stroking the fading scar.

"I can't wait to see you again, mon démon"

~~~

"Oh no" Tim muttered after taking a final sip from his third cup of coffee.

"What Replacement?"

"Take a look at this" the sleep deprived CEO turned his computer to face the other men in the room, Damian was still at school. "If she has a tragic backstory, B might go into serial adopter mode" The screen showed a file on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, including a photo of her.

"Raven hair? Check. Coloured-eyes? Check. Looks? Check. Childhood trauma and/or tragic backstory? Maybe. Holy Shit, B is definitely going to adopt her" Jason listed while Bruce sighed.

"Is there anything notable in her file?" Bruce asked, trying not to submit to his sons' accusations which were, in fact, correct. "From the letter, she seems quite fond of the supposed heroes in Paris"

"Well from the surface she looks like the average teen girl" Dick replied, peering over Tim's shoulder. "But it could all just be for show, you never know" the eldest son shrugged.

Bruce got up from where he was sitting and went to his study, using the excuse of 'work' and 'finalizing the plane tickets for the class'. In reality, he was checking for blank adoption papers. He had a gut feeling about this girl, something was going on behind the scenes.

~~~

The trio made sure they were early to enter school since Chloe said it was possible for Lila to get them, Marinette specifically, left behind. Though, they did spend some time saying goodbye to Luka and Kagami. When they arrived to school, the blonde's assumption was correct since they started to get on the bus. The troublesome class managed to get through the airport in a breeze and without any trouble, there was a bit of a miss-hap during check-in but it was all resolved in a flash.

Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were sitting in the airplane, waiting to take off. She's gotten the seats in economy with extra leg room which were a few rows ahead of the rest of the classroom using the excuse of 'a lot of class president work to do'. Bruce offered to upgrade her and the two blondes to first class so that they wouldn't be disturbed but Marinette politely turned it down. She didn't mind where she was as long as she wasn't near the class, and the mention of first class was bound to cause an uproar.

The bluenette's inner child wanted the window seat, Adrien wanted to be in the seat next to the aisle so he could get first glimpse at the food they were serving, Chloe just wanted to be in the middle for warmth. The seating arrangement worked perfectly. Every once in a while, a flight attendant would drop by to offer food and drinks. There were a few times that flight attendants would ask for one of the three to remind the class of the rules when they didn't listen to the cabin staff, Adrien dealt with the situation since he was the only one they'd actually listen too.

Soon, they landed. The flight had been an easy one since they didn't have to deal with the class's shenanigans while they were in the air. However, that luxury had left when they exited the aircraft.

When traversing through the airport, there had been attempts to get the bluenette lost and attempts to trip her up or gain a significantly bad injury. All attempts failed. Marinette, Chloe and Adrien had managed to weave through passport control peacefully. Even when they were at the baggage claim, not many big efforts were made, besides the classic hiding of the luggage, to rid Marinette of anything. She should've found that suspicious but she was much too tired to care, she barely slept at all on the flight. So when they arrived at the hotel, the first thing she did was lie flat on the bed.

Marinette slept well over nine hours before she woke up. "Tikki, what time is it?"

The kwami too was asleep so at the mention of her name, she yawned. "It's 9:45 am"

"Oh my kwami!" Marinette shot up out of bed to check her phone. Sure enough, there where many notifications of miss calls from Adrien, Chloe, Alix and even Nino. The bus was scheduled to leave at 10:00 but knowing Lila, she was probably over an hour late. The bluenette quickly got changed, brushed her teeth and headed straight towards the hotel doors, ignoring any feeling of hunger.

She pulled her phone out for the directions of Wayne Enterprises and kept her eyes on the screen, completely ignoring the fact that there was someone in the distance directly in her path.

~~~

Jonathan Kent was walking through the streets of Gotham, looking for a present for his best friend. His birthday was in a few days time and the superboy still hadn't found anything. He went to some art shops. Nothing. He went to some antique shops. Still Nothing. He even went to look at kitchen knives. He was that desperate. Jon sighed and continued walking, some shop was bound to peak his interest eventually.

All of a sudden, he heard someone running towards his general direction. Before he could register what was happening, the person ran into him, nearly knocking him down completely.

"Je suis désolé!" A feminine voice shouted out in French. "I-I'm so sorry monsieur!"

Jon then looked up to see a small French bluenette offering her hand to help him up. He gladly took it and when he was back on his feet, he readjusted his glasses to look at the girl properly. She was short, pretty and resembled a Wayne. While this girl was panicking and apologizing profusely, Jon was excited thinking he found a new friend. Though, this excitement didn't last when he saw the state she was in. 'Her bones are a mess! How is she not screaming in pain?'

He waved his hands in front of the girl to get her to stop. "It's fine honestly!" The girl seemed to calm slightly but her face was still worried. "Why you in such a rush anyway?"

"My class and I are visiting on a trip" the bluenette started. "We're supposed to be on our way to a tour but they left me behind"

"They left you all alone? In Gotham?" Jon questioned, 'What kind of stupid are these people?'

"I know right? They-" she was cut off by a notification sound on her phone. "Sorry just a minute"

Jon only then realised how good this French girl's English was. She then let out a sigh of relief and put the phone back in her purse, the blue-eyed boy tried not to use his powers to invade her privacy.

"They're very early, the tour starts in an hour and from the map I'm not far from where I'm meant to be, thank kwami" The young Kent froze at the girl's choice of words, Damian had mentioned that his wife had a companion called a 'kwami'. This couldn't be a coincidence.

"Well since you have time," Jon got the girl's attention. "How do you feel about getting some food? I don't know about you but I'm starving."

"Oh, n-no I could possibly impose-" her stomach grumbled cutting her off. Jon chuckled as he heard the girl whisper profanities.

"Come on I know a place not far from here, you can get a very good few of the WE building" He heard the girl's heart rate speed up a bit, that confirmed where her planned class trip was taking place. He gestured for her to follow him as he sped walked to the location.

When they arrived, they both ordered, Jon ordered a burger while Marinette ordered a cinnamon bun, and sat down. The blue-eyed boy noticed how the girl would always have her thumb in her other palm. He thought her finger could've been resting on a scar similar to Damian's, if she was his wife of course. He decided to test his luck.

"Oh sorry, I forgot to introduce myself" he reached his hand over the table. "My name's Jon Kent" He watched as her eyes widened in recognition and how her heartbeat quickened. "I believe you're Marinette, right?"

Marinette's eyes developed a watery sheen. "Dami's talked about me?"

'Bingo!'

"He talks to me about you every chance he gets" Jon shook the hand Marinette offered and turned it so her palm faced the ceiling. On it was a scar more or less identical to he best friend's. "Whenever he got nervous, sad or overwhelmed, he'd always trace the scar on his hand. I can tell he's thinking of you whenever he does it"

Marinette let a few tears of joy run down her cheek before wiping them away. "S-sorry I'm not usually this emotional" she chuckled. "It's just- I didn't know how to contact Damian and even if I did, I probably couldn't bring myself to talk to him. I thought he hated me for leaving him alone at the League"

Jon snorted. "Him? Hate you? Please, he views you like your his entire world! He was afraid that you hated him! He's drowning in guilt for not being able to get you out of there."

The bluenette sniffed. "Really?" Jon nodded. "C-can I see him again?"

"I don't know where he is right now" Marinette deflated slightly at his words. "But you can definitely meet him! I feel selfish to ask but is it okay for you to wait two days?"

"I've waited many months, a few days is no problem. May I ask why?"

"Well you see his birthday is in a few days and I haven't been able to find him a good gift so... I thought having you two reunited would be a good present" Jon answered, the smile he received was almost blinding.

"That's so sweet of you!" Jon understood how Damian fell for this girl. If sunshine was a person, she would be it.

"So can I see this kwami of yours?" Marinette was confused at how he knew but then she realised that Damian must've told him everything, not that she didn't mind though. "I mean, see it properly?"

"X-ray vision, I should've known" the blue-eyed girl giggled when the boy blinked in surprise. She opened her purse and a red blob flew out. Though it was mostly hidden by Marinette's body, Jon could still see it clearly. He had to cover his mouth to avoid shouting in astonishment. "Jon this is Tikki, my kwami"

"Nice to meet you, son of Superman" Tikki squeaked and Jon's eyes widened in awe as he reached to touch the small creature.

"Wow, you're adorable!" The young boy cooed as the creature giggled.

Marinette wanted the two to interact more but one look at the time told her otherwise. She said goodbye to Damian's best friend and made her way to Wayne Enterprises.

~~~

Despite reading of all the good deeds, the French class were really getting under Dick's skin. First of all, a sausage-hair girl had nearly every student wrapped around her finger, telling stories that were way too good to be true. Secondly, the incompetent teacher didn't bother to control her students, she merely looked at her phone, waving off any students who had questions. And thirdly, they had arrived way too early. The only reasonable looking students that weren't crowding around the brunette were two blondes, one male and one female, and a short skater girl. The only emotions on their face were either anger, annoyance or anxiousness.

When the time for the tour to start was nearing, Dick asked for the teacher to do a headcount. He already knew how many were supposed to be there as he was given a specific amount of badges. There were fifteen in total, not including the teacher. From what he counted, there were only fourteen students, this was confirmed when the teacher's counting stopped at 'Quatorze'. Dick realised it was the class president that wasn't there, he started looking around the main lobby. What really pissed him off was the fact that no one seemed to care that she was left behind, in Gotham for God's sake!

"Have you found her?" A voice from behind Dick asked. It was the blonde boy. "Marinette?"

"No I haven't, the tour starts in seven minutes-" The man cut himself off when someone walked through the lobby doors. She looked to be part of the class. The young bluenette's hair seemed to be ruffled as if she was running for a long time. Dick took a closer look and she was indeed the girl from the file. Determining to know why she was last to arrive, he went to greet her. "Hello, my name is Dick Grayson and I'll be your class's tour guide today"

He didn't fail to notice how her eyes widened in recognition as she took his offered hand and shook it. "Hello Monsieur Dick, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng though I suppose you already know..." her voice trailed off as her eyes lingered to somewhere else in the room before meeting back with his. "I'm really sorry about my lateness"

Dick held one hand to stop her from continuing. "It's fine, the tour starts in three minutes so you got here right on time" The eldest watched Marinette let out a sigh of relief. "I am curious, how come you were last to arrive?"

"Ah well the... bus left early because of something that came up and I wasn't aware of the changes so I got left behind" The bluenette noticed the older man's shocked and angered expression and blurted out, "But I'm here now!"

After some time he nodded and gave Marinette her badge. He then proceeded to gather the class and tell them all the rules and regulations. Soon the tour was under way.

~~~

"So how are the French class, Dildo?" Jason's snarky voice echoed in the manor as Dick entered. What they didn't expect was to be met with a seething Dick.

"Most of them are really horrible, the sausage hair and the glasses girl are the worst. They weren't bad to me though, only to the class president who is, actually, a literal angel" The eldest huffed. "They kept sliding in mean comments about her here and there, it was disgusting. The worst part is, she acts as if they do this regularly! You should've seen the way her eyes dulled as she got on the bus with that... that class!"

"That bad huh?" Jason asked.

The eldest son nodded. "Bruce is definitely gonna want to adopt her the moment he's in the same room as her"

Jason hummed. "I'd like to meet this girl your talking about, I'll ask B if I can join next tour as security. In the mean time, bet fifty I get the best gift for the Demon Brat"

Dick let out a overly exaggerated gasp of offense while laying a hand on his chest. "No way! I bet a hundred!"

~~~

The next day was the day of the next tour, Jason tagged along this time. Luckily, Marinette was on the bus when the class arrived but she wasn't looking too good.

"God, she looks exhausted and starved to death!" Jason muttered into Dick's ear. He nodded and walked over to greet the class.

"Welcome back to your second tour! Today, Jason"- Dick gestured towards the man with two-toned hair- "will be joining us today. As an extra security measure. Now, follow me please!" The eldest son began the tour with half-filled enthusiasm, this was Jason's queue to go to the back and interact with the class president.

The man stayed near the back, not making it obvious he was trying to start a conversation with the girl, when he heard the brunette at the front spewing lies. Jason hadn't spoken French in a while but he could still understand the language.

"You don't actually believe what she's saying do you?" Jason asked the young girl. She snorted in response.

"Of course not, only an idiot would believe the words that come out of her rotten excuse of a mouth. They aren't even that good" The older man laughed and the girl's eyes widened. "S-sorry! I don't usually think before I talk when I'm tired"

"No no, you have a point" Jason held his hand up, as much as he could considering her height compared to his own, to the small girl. "The name's Jason Todd"

The bluenette smiled and took his hand. "Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng..." Marinette trailed off on her last name, 'Is that not her last name? The files are always correct so maybe... she's not proud of her name?' "So what's the real reason why you joined the tour today?"

Jason was impressed as she expertly diverted the spotlight of the conversation onto himself. "For extra security"

Marinette gave the older man an unimpressed look. "I deal with that liar all the time, Jason" He blinked before the girl was smiling once more. "You can't lie to me Jay" she said in a sing-song voice.

The older man jokingly sighed and ruffled her hair. "Well since you asked so kindly, Dickhead over there-" he nodded his head in the direction of his older brother- "noticed how most of your classmates are treating you. That was probably the most pissed I've seen him in a long time. So I wanted to see which little lady was able to cause an overprotective spark in him, now I completely understand why he felt that way"

The girl then sniffed and smiled at Jason sadly. "I...Thank you" she whispered to the man with two-toned hair. "It's been a long time since someone other than my friends have said that they were worried about me"

Jason's smile faltered before it turned into a sad but encouraging one. "Hey, Dick and I are here if you ever need someone to talk to. Wait-" Jason's attention diverted to the blonde boy in the room, the one that was originally hanging out with the small girl. "Hey isn't that your friend?"

Marinette turned in the direction Jason was looking at, there was Lila who was on the arm of a very uncomfortable looking Adrien. The bluenette sighed. "Yeah he is. If you're wondering why he's with the liar is because of his father. You see, back in Paris he's quite famous so his father can be overbearing. I odn't know what the liar said to him but now he wants Adrien to keep the girl happy at all costs"

"Can't he just disobey the old man?"

"He did try but the punishment was for him to be home-schooled which he has been more or less his entire life. But I guess it's gotten better since before Adrien didn't want to call out her lies since he thought they weren't hurting anyone"

Jason scoffed. "Her lies definitely hurt those involved"

"Exactly, luckily he managed to realise that after he overheard one of Lie-la's confrontations. He tries his best to sugarcoat his words when he's calling her out but he still hates conflict. He's just with her so she doesn't turn into an akuma. Not that it's working since she's already been akumatized more than seven times"

"Sorry, akuma what-a?"

Marinette shot him a confused look before her eyes widened slightly in realisation. "I can explain at lunch"

Jason seemed hesitant but nodded anyway.

~~~

Marinette grabbed her food tray, narrowly avoided all the feet that tried to trip her up and sat at an empty lunch table.

"Hi, Mari!" Dick's cheerful voice made his presence known as he sat next to her, lunch tray in hand. "So has Jason been good?"

"Yeah! It's nice to have someone to talk to-"

She was interrupted by Jason slamming his lunch tray on the table, sitting opposite Marinette. "Alright Pixie Pop, explain what an Akuma Matata is"

"Pixie Pop?" The bluenette giggled.

"Akuma whata?" The eldest asked.

"Pixie Pop because you're small and feisty. As for the Akuma thing, Pixie will kindly explain right now" Jason replied, eager to know what an Akuma is.

"Well-"

"I did not have enough coffee for this" A new voice spoke up from behind Marinette. The person it belonged to sit next to Jason, coffee cup in hand and slammed his face on the table.

"That's Tim, our younger brother" Dick answered the bluenette's unasked question. Tim's head looked up as if he just registered that there was someone else on the table.

Her reached his hand across the table with as much energy as a sleep-deprived zombie could give. "Tim Drake"

"Marinette" she returned the hand shake. 'I'm right, these are Dami's brothers' "So like I was saying, an akuma is like a butterfly infused with magic. When it comes in contact with an inanimate object that is being touched by someone who's experiencing strong negative emotions, it turns them into an akuma villain. " She paused so that the men at the table could process what she was saying. "Hawkmoth is the one who sends the akumas, once the connection is made they have no choice but to obey. Even if they try to fight him off, they all succumb eventually."

"So a magic butterfly man, got it"

"When you put it that way, it doesn't sound believable" Marinette giggled at Jason's conclusion.

"What kind of negative emotions does it have to be? Are the Akumas... dangerous?" Dick asked, clearly more concerned that his younger brother.

The bluenette's eyes seemed to age at his statement. "Humiliation, depression, rejection, isolation, anything that makes you feel disheartened really. As for how dangerous there are well... there are different levels to classify each akuma"

All three gestured for her to continue.

"Some are low level, level one, like Mr Pidgeon-" She here's a scoff but continued as if she wasn't interrupted. "- he's a regular but relatively harmless. The highest level is an akuma like Syren" she shuddered at the memory, "Her powers allowed her to flood the entirety of Paris, drowning nearly half of the entire population"

"H-how did this not make international news" Tim asked, bringing his laptop out and furiously typing, though, receiving no results for what the girl just said.

"That would be courtesy of our heroes. One of Ladybug's powers is to heal anything damaged by the powers of the miraculous, she can fix objects, buildings and even resurrect those who died. She can't get rid of the memories unfortunately" She said the last part bitterly, disappointed in herself for not being able to help her citizens.

"What's a miraculous?" Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

"Magical jewelry basically, its what gives the heroes their powers. Its also what Hawkmoth wants, the Ladybug Miraculous and the Miraculous of the Black Cat" she put a finger on her chin to mimic thinking like a civilian. "My best guess is that if he gets the miraculous, he becomes very powerful"

"Have you ever, you know... died?" Dick asked, concern weighing heavily in his voice.

"No, I'm I guess one of the 'lucky few' to not have been killed yet."

They soon conversed in the topic of Hawkmoth and Mayura, each one of the men despised the villains at the end of her rant. All too soon, it was time to leave. She waved goodbye and rushed with her class back to the hotel. Once she reached her room, the bluenette rummaged through her suitcases, ignoring a confused Chloe. Once she found the outfit she wanted to wear, Marinette placed it onto her nightstand.

"I met Jon today"

"Whose he?" Chloe voiced her confusion.

"Jon is Damian's best friend" The bluenette reiterated. "He's bringing me with him to the manor so that we can see each other again"

"That's nice of him"

"To be honest, I think you and Jon would hit it off quite well"

Marinette stifled a giggle when she heard Chloe's signature 'Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous'. The bluenette fell onto her bed, she was going to get as much sleep as she could with her bubbling excitement.

~~~

The bluenette stared at her reflection. She wore a deep velvet, off-the-shoulder blouse with a black cotton skirt, her hair was tied up in an intricate design. Even with the compliments her two best friends kept showering her with, Marinette didn't feel ready. She would be meeting her husband after nearly a year long separation, of course she was a nervous wreck.

After some light encouragement from both Chloe and Adrien, Marinette went down the stairs to the lobby where Jon would be picking her up. It was delightful to see how far the boy was willing to go to make his best friend happy, it reminded Marinette of her friendship with Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka. Upon reaching the lobby, she noticed the blue-eyed boy and briskly walked over.

"Hey Jon" she greeted the boy, he probably knew she was already there thanks to his powers.

"Hi Mari!- Wow! You look nice. I swear Dami's gonna fall for you all over again" Jon compliment made Marinette have an serge of pride. "Come on let's go! My father and Damian's family are waiting for me well, us really"

"Okay, how are we supposed to get there?" Marinette's question ignited a cheeky smile on the sunshine boy's face.

"Have you ever flown before?"

~~~

Clark Kent was at Wayne Manor, celebrating his best friend's son's birthday, who just also so happens to be best friends with his own son. 'That was too confusing for my own good'. He, along with Bruce and the others, have already given Damian his gifts. Jon insisted that he had the best present so he would go last.

"Since I'm his best friend, I have the best gift meaning that I should go last"

While waiting for his son to arrive, Mar'i gave Damian a piece of art that she made and he went up to his room to find a frame. In this moment, most of the occupants in the room turned to him.

"Have you heard Jon yet? I'd like to see what this 'present' is." Dick questioned first, Clark tilted his head but he didn't hear his son at all. He opened his mouth to answer before promptly closing it shut, Jon had just landed in the garden and was making his way inside, by them Damian and Mar'i had returned.

"Hello my very bestest friend! Happy happy birthday to you!" Jon tackled Damian in a hug before quickly pulling back as to not get pushed off. "It is time to present my gift to you!"

Damian's brothers perked up, they had bet on whether or not Jon was true to his present being the best, Dick voted for while Jason and Tim voted against.

"But no one other than Damian is allowed to see the present" Without seeing what their reaction to his statement was, Jon dragged Damian outside. The brothers huffed before running upstairs, Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing and followed his sons onto the upper floor window with Clark close behind. Clark knew that Bruce was just as curious as his boys, he just hid it very well. When they made it to the window, they saw Jon telling Damian to sit on one of the garden's benches with his eyes closed.

"Is this really necessary?" They heard Damian's unamused voice. Upon hearing Jon's confirmation, Damian sighed and closed his eyes. The adults watched as Jon went off to somewhere out of their vision.

~~~

"Yep!"

Jon's voice echoed through the garden, hitting Marinette with the realisation that her and her husband would be reunited. A flurry of emotions dawned in her head. First nervousness, then excitement and finally, anticipation. She had gotten so caught up that she barely noticed the blue-eyed boy bounding up towards her. He gave her an encouraging smile before gesturing for the bluenette to follow him. Sensing her anxious hesitation, he gently took her wrist and pulled the girl towards the green-eyes boy, who was still sitting on the bench with his hands over his eyes.

'Here goes nothing'

~~~

He'd heard Jon's footsteps scurry away around a minute ago, he didn't know why but he tingled with anticipation when he heard his self-proclaimed best friend return. Though as soon as Damian heard the boy return, he immediately ran off to god knows where. But before the confusion settled in, he was hit with the familiar scent of vanilla and cherry blossoms, the scent he thought he'd never have the privilege to come across again. Damian's head shot up to face the beautiful bluenette he had the honor of calling his wife. The voice to whom the aroma belonged to spoke.

"You know, you really should've told me when your birthday was. I could've made you a gift..." Her voice, though barely above a whisper, was as loud as needed for Damian, her voice trailed off as the tears in her eyes built up.

Without at a moment's hesitation, the bluenette was soon spun in the air with the end result being engulfed in her husband's arms. "Having you in my arms again is the best gift I could have asked for"

Marinette couldn't hold back the tears of pure euphoria that rolled down her cheeks. Damian had noticed Jon spectating form the side, radiating excitement like a puppy, but he paid no attention to his self-proclaimed best friend. All that mattered was they were together once more.

The way fate had designed.

———

Bonus:

Dick: hang on he's coming back with, mARINETTE?!

Jason: WHaT?! How does the brat know her?!

Tim: what are they saying, Clark?

Clark: *smiling while wiping a fake tear of happiness* how sweet

Dick: im confused

*batfam (and clark)* run down the stairs and go outside to see Jon nearly combusting in joy*

Jon: *turns to the fam* told you I'd get the best gift

Jason: okay demon brat tell me how you know pixie pop!

Damian: *turns to face jason with an unimpressed look with mari snuggled under his chin* she's my wife

Batfam: *exe.batfamily has stopped working*

Dick: WHAT :D?!

Jason: WHAT THE FU-

Tim: WHAT

Bruce: *whispers* there goes the adoption papers

Bruce: well it's a pleasure to meet my daughter-in-law in person, but how did you end up getting married in the first place?

Damian and Marinette: *look at each other* Mother/ His mother

Bruce: *sighs*

Jason: okay let me go get my guns to murder that sausage-haired girl

Damian: todd no

Jason: *whips around, confused* wh-

Damian: i want to be the one to spill some Italian blood

Jason: *evilly grins*

Bruce and Marinette: nO KILLING-

#daminette #damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Someone help my arms are dying #thEY HURT SO MUCH-

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fruitcoops · 3 years ago

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Hi, I love your blog so much! I recently got ankle lateral ligament reconstruction done, and as an athlete, it sucks so bad. I watched my basketball team play yesterday, and it felt really horrible to watch them lose by one point in overtime when I know I would have made a difference if I were on the court... I know you have lots of asks and prompts, but if you have the time and want to, could you possibly hurt me more than I’m already hurting with some angsty ankle injury stuff😩 like maybe Cap watching the Lions lose without him.

Thank you for all the awesome fics you write! Your blog is amazing!

Anon, this ask really struck a chord with me and I wanted to do it justice as best I could--going through a sports injury like that is the worst feeling in the world, and watching your teammates play without you just adds salt to the wound. Sending all the love and healing vibes your way, okay? Please keep me updated on how you're feeling if you feel comfortable <3

Combined with an ask for pre-Coops and Sirius' photo of Remus! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for canonical injury and mentioned scars (Remus)

Sirius felt a nudge at his arm and his irritation flared, but he did not take his eyes off the game. “Fucking hell,” he muttered as James missed yet another blatant pass. There’s three.

The next nudge was more insistent.

“What?” he snapped, sparing half a glance to his left and feeling his stomach swoop.

Remus raised his eyebrows and held the mouthguard out further. “Either put this in or unclench your jaw.”

You’re not my mother, Sirius almost snarked back, just to be even more of an asshole. He was cold from being at the rink without his gear, severely pissed off by the general bullshit happening on the ice, and the itch in the boot locked around his stupid fucked-up ankle was slowly driving him mad.

Remus offered the mouthguard again, and Sirius’ temper cooled by a few degrees at the soft encouragement on his face. Pretty, his brain supplied. He swallowed hard around his sudden dry mouth and shoved the plastic between his teeth, beating back the unruly emotions with a mental baseball bat. Nope. Not tonight. Focus on being angry.

Logan got distracted, and Finn paid the price as an enforcer slammed him against the boards; he bounced back immediately, but Sirius ground the mouthguard so hard it squeaked. “Tabarnak—”

“Come with me for a sec,” Remus said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the angry shouts of Lions fans.

Sirius shook his head. What he wouldn’t give to be in the heart of the fight, letting off some of the steam that had been building with no outlet for weeks. “Game’s not over.”

Remus pressed his lips together, but said nothing; Sirius’ throat constricted as he looked at the scoreboard. There may have been three full minutes left on the clock, but the Lions had already lost—unless they pulled a miracle out of their asses, this game would be a stain on their record. Or if they just let me play.

Sirius sighed through his nose. The urge had been growing stronger the longer he stayed cooped up and restless, banging at the walls of his brain and bringing headache after headache.

“Cap.” The hand on the back of his bicep was surprisingly gentle and he closed his eyes as Remus gave him a light tug. “Come on. We can at least be productive instead of sitting here and stewing.”

He smells nice. How does he always smell so nice? Sirius stood and followed Remus down the tunnel, not even bothering to force smiles for the people pounding on the glass partitions. Don’t focus on the game.

Focus on his shoulders, something close to his heart suggested. You like his shoulders.

He scrunched his nose up at the thought—if he dwelled on the smooth, strong curve of Remus’ upper back for any longer, he would start remembering the one time he saw them bare, covered in sweat with scars that shone like moonlight and—

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, snapping him back to reality. Sirius jumped and concern flickered over the golden planes of his face. “You’re twitchy tonight.”

“Just…” He made a vague, aborted motion toward the ice before continuing toward the PT room, though he did not miss the worried look Remus shot him. Fantastic, now I look like a dick and an idiot.

“What’s going on, Sirius?” The door clicked closed behind them and Remus leaned against it with his arms crossed loosely as Sirius limped over to the table and sat down, pulling the mouthguard out. He stared at the floor and the hunk of plastic—don’t think about how nice his voice sounds around your name. Don’t.

He shook his head; through the door, the sounds of the game were faint. “They’re better than this.”

“Yep.”

“They’re all going to be angry tomorrow, which makes them sloppy.”

“Probably.”

“Coach will be upset.”

“No question.”

“It’s the Badgers.”

Remus made a face. “I know, right?”

“They’re a good team, but—” He tightened his jaw again and looked away.

“But we’re better,” Remus finished for him.

“Yeah.” Silence fell between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Being quiet around Remus was never uncomfortable, and Sirius was pathetically grateful for every scrap of it he could get. “I—the game would be different if I was out there.”

“Would it?”

“It would.” He had been going over every mistake for two and a half hours, placing himself in like a chess piece to stop the missed passes, fumbled pucks, and thoughtless plays. “They need me with them.”

The paper crinkled as Remus sat down next to him, and every one of Sirius’ senses went on high alert. “They need to you get better,” he said simply, those caramel-apple eyes making Sirius’ knees go weak. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Of course,” he scoffed.

“Good.” There was no defensiveness or indignation in Remus’ voice—guilt snapped, a firecracker behind his teeth.

“Sorry.”

Remus smiled wryly. “When you’re around injured hockey players all day long, you get used to a little bit of bitchiness.”

“I’m not bitchy!” Sirius spluttered. The poorly-concealed amusement on Remus’ face made mortification heat his cheeks. “I’m not!”

“Uh-huh.” The note of smug disbelief should not have been as attractive as it was. “Alright, lay down.”

Sirius swore he heard a few crackling noises as his brain short-circuited. “Quoi?”

“I’m not kneeling on freezing linoleum to check out your ankle, Cinderella,” Remus snorted. “Now get a wiggle on.”

“You have the strangest sayings,” he said as he laid back and stretched his leg out, bewildered and yet somehow relieved.

“And you—” Remus pulled the top buckle free. “—have no appreciation for the great American north.”

“I can take it off,” Sirius mumbled, feeling redness rise once again.

He cocked an eyebrow. “The boot? I might not be a muscle-bound athlete, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a couple strips of Velcro.”

“No, it’s—doesn’t touching people’s feet freak you out? Like, the sweat and everything?”

“If it did, I’d have to find another profession, because I’m damp all the time from you fuckers and you all seem to have a habit of breaking things below the knee. Bend.”

Sirius complied, drawing his knee toward his chest. His bare foot looked weird in the bright lights, pale and still swollen, but Remus was as golden as ever. You can watch from afar, he conceded when the cute little furrow appeared on Remus’ forehead while he felt around the bone. Just for a little while. “Your hands are warm,” he said before he could stop himself.

Remus glanced up, and his small smile caused a flood of butterflies in Sirius’ stomach. “Thanks. They’re usually pretty cold, so I’m glad I’m not accidentally giving you foot hypothermia.”

“Is that real?”

“No,” Remus laughed. Sirius wished he could keep that sound forever. “How’s that feel?”

“Uh, fine.” He blinked a couple times to come back to himself as Remus put light pressure on the sole of his foot. “Still fine.”

“You’re a lot more flexible than before. Things are healing well.”

A loud buzzer went off outside—Sirius closed his eyes as disappointment and frustration fired up once more. The crowd wasn’t cheering. The windows weren’t shaking. He didn’t even want to look at the TV to check the score. I should be out there, he thought for the umpteenth time. I’m letting them down.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said quietly as he worked through a few more exercises.

“Not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

Sirius wanted to believe him. “I’m the captain.”

“And you’re being responsible by doing this with me so you can heal faster.” People rushed past the door outside, but the PT room remained peaceful. Sirius stared at the plain ceiling and wished for a miracle. “They miss you.”

“Y’know, that’s not exactly making me feel better.”

“Sorry.” They lapsed back into silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Sirius chewed the inside of his lip for a solid two minutes, following Remus’ simple instructions without looking at him. He should have been out there with them, ankle be damned. It was basically healed anyway; they were just tying up loose ends, and maybe Remus needed to be a little less careful. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to ask a different question.”

“I’m just saying, it feels fine and—”

“Time’s up.” Remus let go of his foot and Sirius only spared a moment to mourn the loss of his comforting touch before he caught the stormy, mulish stubbornness that took the place of Remus’ concentration. “Sit.”

“I am.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Sirius dragged himself upright with a huff. Arguing with Remus Lupin was about as useful as arguing with a brick wall, and that was coming from someone who won the ‘Most Stubborn’ superlative at their last end-of-year party. “First of all, ankles are annoying and the soft tissue will still be damaged even if the bone is healed. Second, it’s my job to fix you up so your boys stop whining to me about healing you faster. And third, I’m not giving up on you.”

Sirius paused for a long moment. “What?”

“I’m not giving up,” Remus repeated. His jaw set and he made direct eye contact. “I would love nothing more than to kick Snape in the kneecaps and let you go out there as soon as you can stand on your own, but that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to make sure you’re ready to kick ass and take names no matter what that little shit was trying to do. So don’t you dare sit there and try to chicken out at the finish line, because I know you want this even more than I do.”

In his chest, Sirius heart was hammering like he had just run five miles. I’m not giving up on you. Sirius had never wanted to kiss him more. “Thank you.”

Remus softened with a slow breath. “We’re in this together, Sirius. You and me.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s get to work. Next time you play the Badgers, make ‘em regret this game.”

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

Sirius walked back toward the locker room feeling rather nauseous. The whole team leaked their bad moods into the air—Arthur had barely looked at them before sending them home with a quiet “we’ll talk more tomorrow”, the equivalent of an arrow through Sirius’ heart. I need a pick-me-up, he thought as the rest of the guys trooped out in a melancholy raincloud. He fist-bumped each of them, per tradition, but their responses were weak at best.

Ice cream sounded good. Maybe a milkshake. Oh, who was he kidding, he needed a solid hug and something other than ice to look at. Not for the first time, he contemplated getting a dog, just so the house wouldn’t be empty and dark when he returned.

Laughter rang out ahead and Sirius inhaled sharply, letting the sound roll over him. “I’m not kidding!” Moody chuckled.

“Bullshit,” Remus countered, still snickering. “There is no way—”

“I’ve been around here longer than you’ve been alive, kid.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Remus groaned, though Sirius could hear the smile in his voice even from around the corner. “You only bring it up every goddamn day.”

“Brat.”

Sirius entered the room just in time to see Remus playfully knock the side of his foot against Moody’s; both were grinning. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

Moody nodded to him. “Night, twelve.”

“A demain,” Sirius called, offering a slight smile as his eyes lingered on Remus. He was leaning back against the wall with stick tape in his hands—his hands, which never failed to make Sirius throw caution to the wind—and raised it in farewell. “See you, Loops. Thanks again.”

“No problem, Cap.”

He grabbed his duffel off the floor and slid his keys, wallet, and phone into his pockets as Moody and Remus resumed their conversation. He wondered how long they usually stuck around, and if they would oppose him staying—he wouldn’t interrupt, but being around people who weren’t going through the five stages of grief already felt nice.

An idea struck as Remus’ laugh raised goosebumps on his arms once again. With a careful glance over his shoulder, he slipped his phone out and snapped a picture before hurrying off toward his car. His breaths were shallow; that was such a creepy move, and surely one of them noticed—

No voices chased him. Nobody gave him strange looks. He waited until he was safely in the front seat of the car before unlocking his phone, and all the air in his lungs left in a rush.

The photo was perfect. It caught the lopsided tilt to Remus’ mouth, his slender-but-strong fingers, his long legs, the scrunch of his nose mid-laugh. Everything Sirius never let himself look at for long. He didn’t have much space left among the collection of paper memories on his dresser, but maybe if he put it in the back where nobody would see it unless they knew where to look…

He turned the car on. Later. He would print it out and deal with the taut rubber-band-ball of feelings later. Until then, he could settle for the imprint of Remus’ warmth taking away the pain in his ankle and the determination on his face as he promised to bring Sirius back from the personal hell he was living in. You and me, he had said, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to believe it.

#fanfic #my fic #sirius black #remus lupin #alastor moody #james potter #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #sweater weather #coops #injury #pre-coops #lumosinlove

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vanderlindemorgans · 4 years ago

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Cross My Heart (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings: none really but the reader is a tsundere, and there’s some vague awful knowledge on how horse ranches operate.

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The next two weeks were about as awkward as one would expect them to be. Even without their already tense history with each other, it wouldn’t exactly be a situation that would be any easier to adjust to. For god's sake, he was hiding out in Texas and was wanted for treason against his former organisation. What about that was supposed to be easy for him?

The two of you had largely avoided each other during this time, sometimes even barely seeing each other during the day. For the first couple of days, Jack had spent most of his time upstairs at your insistence, in order to properly let his wounds heal. No matter how much he protested against you, you weren’t having a single second of his nonsense and told him rather firmly that it was for his own good to stay up there. Those were the days where he’d found himself utterly bored out of his brain - there were only so many books that were kept in that little guest bedroom, and even though the thought had crossed his mind a few times he’d already swore to you he wouldn’t go poking through the closets for anything.

When you’d finally deemed him in good enough shape to help around the ranch, then things had gotten better. Or at least, they’d gotten less boring. No matter what a part of his mind instinctually lingered on Statesman, whether that be on how so many years of loyalty to the organisation ended in a crashing blaze or how long he would have before they were able to track him down. He didn’t give himself much time on the run - a few months maximum if he was lucky before they inevitably caught onto him one way or another. Sometimes he wondered what the point of running even was if he believed so thoroughly that Statesman would catch up to him. The only answer he could ever give for himself to that was four simple words: I have to try. It may be a longshot, he may spend the rest of his life evading his former agency at every turn but goddamn he had to at least try to get away from it all. The things he’d done in Cambodia, the threat of death ever looming over him. He’d gotten lucky once escaping with his life, so who’s to say that couldn’t happen again?

Stealing a brief glance over to where you were only metres away from him, cleaning out one of the older horses stalls, he couldn’t help but wonder about you. There was no doubt in his mind that you loathed him for what he did, and rightfully so he had to admit. The few words you had exchanged with each other during this time were terse and brief, and were mainly condensed to matters with looking after the animals or mundane things like asking where the keys were. Even from the start your demeanour hadn’t been remarkably bright, which in a way struck him as odd. You certainly weren’t the same girl he remembered dating years ago. Jack never expected you to be happy at his return into your life but there was something more too - even when you weren’t around him, when you were putting on a happy face for the different guests and customers something was missing still. When Jack had first met you, you were still only in college, and while on the surface you had that same snark that he found himself loving more and more about you with every time you’d spoken, there was also a sense of innocence there. He remembered how your moral code was always focused on doing the right thing, how you wanted to believe that deep down everyone had some good in them. It was something he’d admired about you - even back then he was jaded by the world, having witnessed so much wickedness firsthand both through his position at Statesman and from his own life before that. Some would call you naive for having that much faith in humanity, but he’d found it endlessly endearing.

He wasn’t inclined to say that you no longer believed in doing what’s right - you had taken him in when there was nowhere else to turn. But that brightness in your eyes, the unwavering trust you’d always been willing to give. That was what was gone, extinguished like it was never even there to begin with. He had to wonder if he was largely responsible for this change, if the reason you’d become so passingly apathetic and distrustful was because of his actions. Most likely that was the case, and from what you’d said a couple of weeks back about your parents passing away it was no wonder you were no longer that spunky wide-eyed girl from Texas, that you had become so sullen and moody. A lot had clearly happened in those seven years of silence, and for that he felt truly remorseful for how he’d hurt you.

You hadn’t mentioned that night so far, so a part of Jack felt willing to leave things as is and only focus on being as little of a hassle to you as possible during this time. If you mention the breakup you run the risk of making things worse, he reasoned with himself. As much as he wanted to apologise, explain himself a little bit, he knew that you were never going to believe a word he said. You believed him to be nothing more than a lying son of a bitch who was only interested in the thrill of the chase and not ever after anything truly committed. He could still hear those cutting remarks slip from your lips as if it were only yesterday. “You know what you are? You’re a fucking liar, Jack Daniels. What happened to forever and always? Or did you forget that?”.

“Hey, Jack, there should be a new delivery of fresh hay coming through for the horses in the next couple of minutes. Do me a favour and go greet them for me, will ya?” he heard your voice ring out, interrupting his train of thought and bringing him back to reality. “Sure thing, darlin’” he nodded, setting aside the bag of grain he’d been giving each of the horses and stepping aside over towards the stables entrances, only just missing the hasty look you shot him out the corner of his eye.

___

You didn’t know what had come over you. All morning you had been distracted by him, your eyes wandering over to where he was feeding the horses, running his hand across their manes and giving them a gentle pet. Jack had always been great with animals, something the both of you had in common. Rolling your eyes to yourself, you continued to direct your focus on raking out all manner of gunk and mess from the stalls, somewhat annoyed to even be reminiscing on such long forgotten things. Normally you were level headed and focused but ever since Jack had appeared back in your life out of the blue things had gotten a tad stranger for you. It didn’t surprise you in the least that his presence in your house ignited old memories, coaxing out both the bitter and bright from their place dormant at the back of your mind. The two of you had barely said a word to each other in those two weeks and yet here you were, being plagued by ghosts of the past. You wondered if Jack felt the same way, if he could also feel the awkward tension ripe between you. In your opinion, you’d have to be an idiot not to notice.

It didn’t make sense to you. You’d thought you’d long since moved on from the pain he’d caused you, focusing on maintaining a steady rhythm and pace in your own life and being far too busy with the ranch to even let your thoughts wander to your ex-boyfriend. With him around though, it was bringing everything back, almost as if none of it had ever left in the first place. Safe to say, all of it made you more than a bit agitated

But you couldn’t have just left him out there to fend for himself. No, you weren’t heartless, and taking him in was the right thing to do. You could handle the irritating flashbacks and echoes as long as it meant he was safe and alive. And besides, this was only temporary. He’d no doubt find somewhere else to jet off to in a matter of weeks and leave you to return back to your normal routine. It was odd having someone else in the house anyway, after spending so many years alone. Suddenly you had to be considerate for someone else, integrating them into your own routine, your way of life.

And, truth be told, a small part of you didn’t mind the company one bit. Not that you’d ever say that outloud of course. No, you’d rather kill yourself before admitting to anyone, lest Jack himself, that you actually liked having someone else around. Even if words exchanged were few and far between, there was an element of comfort to having someone stay with you. Though you largely chalked this small feeling up to spending too long in solitude.

Another thing that had taken you by surprise was Jack’s behaviour. You’d fully expected to have to once again deal with his antics, the annoying and frustratingly devilish charm he exuded in every quick witted remark, that smirk of his you’d come to know so well that once upon a time was enough to make you bend to him, and you’d prepared yourself the best you could to combat him back. You were determined to not let him get under your skin and not be taken in by his charm: you knew better now. Strange as it was though, none of that ever ended up coming to pass. In the few interactions you did have with each other a day, Jack was being mostly polite and keeping to himself. Sure, there were a few banter-like comments sprinkled here and there, this was Jack Daniels after all, but they were few and far between. He still hadn’t told you the finer details of what had happened between him and those other agents but it must have been enough to knock him down a few pegs in the ego department judging by his demeanour. That, or he felt the stifling awkwardness between you two and felt it best to dial himself back a bit. Maybe it was a mix of both. You really couldn’t say for sure though.

Shaking your head, you shifted focus back on to the list of tasks you needed to get through that day before the ranch opened for business. It was around seven in the morning, and opening hours were from eight-thirty to six, and it was a Wednesday so business was moderate. You had a couple of kids booked for riding lessons later on as well as some people coming to rent out specific horses for rides, plus a doctor coming to look at one of the pregnant mares for a checkup. Not exactly what you would call a hectic day but still not a walk in the park either. You also had a couple of deliveries coming in that day, speaking of which, you remembered, one was scheduled to arrive in only a few moments.

You shouted out for Jack to go meet with the delivery guy, and you watched him as he sauntered out of the stables in search of the van, your eyes catching a glimpse of that ridiculous oversized belt buckle of his as it glinted in the early morning light. There were some things about that man you just never understood, his affinity for that tacky buckle being one of them.

You turned your attention back to your current task of cleaning out the horses stalls. Years ago when you were a young kid you’d turned up your nose at the idea of having to shove around manure and urine soaked hay twice a day, though years passed and you barely even noticed or cared about the grossness of the stench. Shoving the last bits of hay into a large plastic garbage bag, you turned back over to where the old mare was standing in the corner, looking disinterested as usual and blew on a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “Looks like I’m all done here, Jack should be back with the hay for you in a moment” you mused, to which the animal in question lightly grunted back at you, as if it could understand exactly what you’d just said.

“Yeah, yeah, I know old girl. Just sit tight, ok?” you replied, stepping out of the stall and dragging the gate behind you, clearing the latch click just as Jack walked back in with an armful of hay bales. “I got the guy unloading the rest from his van, this should last ya a little over two weeks” he informed you, eliciting a general nod in his direction as a reply. “Good, that’s what I was hoping for. Just put it over by the door and I’ll sort it out in a bit” you instructed, looking down at your wristwatch for the time. 7:40 am - perfectly on schedule. The rest of your employees would be arriving soon, so tasks would be able to be knocked out faster too.

The low sound of a yawn pulled you from your thoughts as you looked up over to where Jack was stacking the bales of hay, lightly rubbing a hand over his face. “Tired are we, Jack?” you commented, raising your brow slightly at him.

“A little” he admitted. “Forgot to make myself a coffee this mornin’, and truth be told I didn’t get the best sleep last night”.

“Is everything alright up there? I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable” you said, a little bit of sarcasm working its way into your tone. You just couldn’t help it, and in your mind, he well deserved every little lick of ire you could throw his way.

“Everythings perfect, darlin’, I’m just...my mind tends to wander late at night. Things to do with Statesman and such, nothin’ for you to really be concerned about” he dismissed, shifting on his heel towards where the delivery man was bringing in the last of the stock he’d brought over. You didn’t move a single step, instead watching him thank the man and take the supplies off him, a small feeling of sympathy sparking that you quickly shrugged off like it was nothing. People dealt with insomnia all the time, you reasoned. And he said himself that it was nothing to worry about so that was that.

Neither of you said a word for the next couple of minutes, yet some part of the conversation was still at the back of your mind. You didn’t understand why - it was a pretty mundane exchange of words overall however you couldn’t help but still feel you needed to say something more.

“Sometimes I find it hard to sleep too. Usually that’s when I get up and go get a book or something. Anything that works as a distraction to whatever's on my mind” you found yourself saying out of nowhere. You could feel Jack glance over at you but you didn’t meet his gaze, keeping your own eyes trained down on the floor that you were sweeping. “I’ll have to keep that in mind then” you heard him say in response, to which you acknowledged him with a small nod and a slight side glance. In an instant afterwards, you minorly chastised yourself for saying something so stupid and random to him. Great, now you’ve made it even more awkward. You should have just kept your mouth shut. Even still, it was hard to miss that sweet look in Jack’s eyes when he’d replied back, when your eyes had met briefly for that small moment.

___

The loud sound of incessant beeping awoke you from your deep slumber, the noise becoming more and more grating with each second that passed. Mumbling under your breath you reached your hand out from underneath the sheets to flick the alarm off, your eyes only just beginning to adjust to the room around you as the last remnants of your dream melted away into nothing, being replaced by the stark wooden panelling of the walls and the feeling of textured quilt on the edge of your feet. There was barely any light in the room as the sun hadn’t come up yet, and wouldn’t rise for another fifteen minutes or so, leaving your vision time to adjust to the world around you as you rose up in bed and sighed.

Every morning it seemed you told yourself that you needed a vacation, a couple of days off to get away from it all and kick back a little. Sometimes you’d indulge yourself in the thought - taking a plane off to somewhere and not coming back for a couple of weeks. You never actually did it though, not due to a lack of finances but moreso that you didn’t even know what you’d do with yourself with all that time. As much as ranch work dragged on some days, the methodical nature of it kept you grounded and focused. What the hell were you supposed to do without it?

Shuffling off to the edge of the bed, you fumbled around for a pair of socks in your bedside drawer and slipped them onto your feet, your mind starting to wander off to that ever present list of tasks and chores you kept for yourself. The harder you thought on it, the more muddled your brain seemed to get. Leave the to-do list for after you’ve had coffee.

Your body was practically on autopilot as you moved out into the hallway and down the stairs, wanting to hurry to get that invigorating rush that caffeine gave you. The actual taste of the drink you were never totally partial to, truth be told: drinking it had more to do with the fact it woke you up and made you feel less like wanting to die every early morning. No matter how many years passed or long you kept doing this for, you just never became a morning person.

You didn’t notice it at first when you’d reached for two mugs instead of one out of the cupboard, only really caring about attempting to make yourself a coffee as fast as possible that hopefully wasn’t totally shitty in quality. You didn’t notice when you loaded up the espresso machine that you put enough coffee in for two instead of one, or when you put in extra milk in the frother. Really, it only had come to your attention that you’d done any of those things when you suddenly stared back at the kitchen counter and noticed two full mugs of coffee instead of one.

Staring back and forth between the two, you felt your brow crease while you moved your hand up to your neck, lightly rubbing on the back. Huh. Guess I must be really spaced this morning if I made two. As if on cue, you started to hear the sounds of Jack stirring upstairs, and without a second thought you grabbed both mugs in your hand and glided over towards the kitchen table, setting them both down and taking a seat in one of the well worn chairs.

“Hey. I made two by accident. You can have the other one I guess” you announced while watching him transcend down the stairs, gesturing vaguely over towards the other mug. You saw Jack glance up at you, his mussed hair and semi-dazed expression showing that he was probably half asleep still. He hadn’t bothered to dress himself yet, wearing the tight fitting white t-shirt you’d managed to fish out from a back cupboard somewhere and a pair of equally plain pajama pants. He looked...good, somehow, though you weren’t about to say that outloud. You could only imagine the smug self-satisfied smirk that type of remark would garner.

He slowly walked up towards the table and gently scooped up the mug in his hand, running his thumb over the edge lightly. “Accident, huh? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were starting to warm up to me a little” he teased. You rolled your eyes back at him and took another sip of coffee. “Oh, shut up”.

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #Kingsman #Kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #cross my heart

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commentaryvorg · 3 years ago

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Digimon Data Squad Dub Comparison Episode 6 - The Ultimate Team No More?

This is a companion to my commentary on the original Japanese Digimon Savers! Reading my commentary on the original version of this episode (which you can find here) is recommended before reading this dub comparison.

Original name ~ Dubbed name

Masaru Daimon ~ Marcus Damon

Yoshino Fujieda ~ Yoshino “Yoshi” Fujieda

Tohma H. Norstein ~ Thomas H. Norstein

Sayuri Daimon ~ Sarah Damon

Chika Daimon ~ Kristy Damon

Captain Rentarou Satsuma ~ Commander Richard Sampson

Katsumata ~ Boomer

[Since several characters share the same name between the original and the dub, quotes from the dub will always be in italics, while quotes from the original will not, in order to distinguish them.]

Yoshi: “But does he wait? Of course not! Not Mister Reckless!”

Yoshi has some added exasperation at Marcus in the dub and I approve.

Masaru: “Aw, he’s annoyed at himself.”

Agumon: “Yeah, he’s annoyed.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “What’s wrong, ya jealous?”

Agumon: “Sorry, but no autographs!”

how does Agumon know what an autograph is

Agumon: “As if any Digimon could beat us when we’re fighting together!”

Masaru: “Yeah! Because we’re the strongest combination ever!”

Agumon: “Ever!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “We’ll just win again, of course! There’s no Digimon that can beat the ultimate team!”

Marcus: “Yeah! Agumon and I are the strongest team ever!”

Agumon: “Yeah!”

The original brought in Masaru and Agumon calling themselves the strongest combination ever kind of transparently for the purpose of this episode. However, because Marcus and Agumon have already called themselves “the ultimate team” before in the dub, this works better and doesn’t seem quite so obvious.

Dub-Agumon doesn’t have that quirk original-Agumon has of echoing the last word or so – or maybe a whole sentence as in the previous quote – of Masaru’s lines for emphasis. Not necessarily a bad thing, just that the dub Agumon has different quirks.

Lalamon: “This is the worst…”

Yoshino: “That’s my line.”

~~~~~

Lalamon: “Well, at least they don’t lack confidence.”

Yoshi: “No, they just lack common sense.”

Lalamon doesn’t get to steal Yoshi’s catchphrase, but instead she and Yoshi do some very warranted snarking.

Agumon: “Sarah, you’re a genius chef! Yum!”

Marcus: “Hey! How many times do I have to tell you not to call my mom by her first name!”

In the dub of the earlier episode where original-Agumon started doing this, dub-Agumon actually didn’t happen to use Sarah’s name, so this is the first time he’s done so onscreen. Still, I suppose Marcus’s line implies he’s done it multiple times before now, so this is the dub catching up by implying it’s been happening for a while even if we haven’t seen it.

Agumon: “But Sayuri is Sayuri. Chika is Chika. And Aniki is Aniki.”

Masaru: “That’s not what I mean!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Kristy is Kristy, Sarah is Sarah, and Boss is Boss.”

Marcus: “‘Boss’ is not my name!”

Agumon: “Oh. Well, still.”

Instead of Masaru failing to articulate why it’s weird for his friend to call his mom by her first name, Marcus shifts to an entirely different argument which almost might be implying he doesn’t really want Agumon to call him Boss? That could be considered relevant to this episode, but it’s almost certainly not deliberate.

Masaru: “It’s manners for the follower to hold back!”

Agumon: “Look who’s talking! Giving things to the follower shows off an aniki’s generosity!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Whatever happened to me being the boss here?”

Agumon: “Consider this an employee profit-sharing program.”

????? Agumon how on earth do you know what one of those is. I don’t even know what one of those is. Also, way to make this sound 1000% like a small business even though that never made any amount of sense.

This is basically making the same point as the original that Agumon feels Marcus ought to let him have the last fried egg as part of a boss’s generosity, but man does that get kinda lost in the ridiculous small-business joke.

Sayuri: “Oh my, they really know what they’re talking about…”

Chika: “That’s because they saw it on TV yesterday.”

Sayuri: “Still, it’s amazing that they’re studying while watching TV.”

~~~~~

Sarah: “Oh boy. Well, dinner just got a lot more interesting.”

Kristy: “Why do boys always have to act like boys?”

Sarah: “Oh, believe me, Kristy, one day you’ll be glad they do.”

The original exchange between Sayuri and Chika here was very strange – I think the subbers didn’t quite get what was meant to be going on there, because their take on it doesn’t really make sense – so the dub changing it to something else is quite reasonable. But Sarah being heteronormative at her daughter was really not what they needed to change this to.

(Is this implying that Sarah was/is into guys who are this kind of ridiculous idiot? Actually, uh, knowing about the kind of person Marcus’s dad is, that’d make… a good bit of sense. Oh dear.)

There’s some similar bickering about snoring here, but then also, still in the background:

Marcus: “That’s it! You’re fired!”

Agumon: “You don’t even pay me!”

Can we not with the small business jokes! It makes this whole thing so difficult to take seriously as a meaningful bond between fighting partners, which is kind of what this whole episode is meant to be focusing on. Also, as usual, how does Agumon even know that an “employee” is supposed to get paid; his entire experience with the word should be limited to what he is to Marcus. And Marcus saying “you’re fired” really should be taken as him officially breaking off their partnership, but this isn’t the part where that happens yet. (Though honestly I’m glad that when we do, we won’t be doing the small business jokes there.)

Agumon: “Well, I’m not gonna bail you out any more, Aniki! If I wasn’t there for you today, you would’ve been screwed!”

Masaru: “What?! Don’t be so damn egotistical! You can’t even evolve without my Digisoul!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Fine, don’t count on me to bail you out any more! Face it, you’d be totally lost without me!”

Marcus: “What?! Gimme a break! Without me you couldn’t Digivolve! Without me, this team would be nothing!”

I’m quoting this whole thing even though it’s basically the same as in the original, because this exchange is very important to the entire episode and I’m really glad the dub kept it intact. Boy could they have ruined the whole episode if they messed up this part, but they didn’t.

(I shouldn’t have to bring this up like it’s remotely remarkable, but after the fire-punching fiasco in episode 3, apparently it is.)

Marcus’s “without me this team would be nothing” is a bit harsher and more jerkish than originally, though that’s probably partly because the dub had more lip-flap to fill. It’s making Marcus more of a jerk like usual, but at least in this instance, Masaru being something of a jerk originally was actually the point, so this doesn’t stick out as much as it does sometimes.

The noises Agumon initially makes in reaction to Marcus’s comment here are a lot angrier in the dub, whereas originally it was more like upset floundering at the realisation that that’s true, before he snapped.

Agumon: “Damn it! I can’t do this any more! I’m done being your follower!”

Masaru: “Oh yeah, well, I’m out too! We’re not Aniki and follower any more!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “That’s it! I can’t take this! I don’t want you to be my boss!”

Marcus: “That’s just fine by me! I don’t wanna be your boss, either!”

At least the dubbers had the sense to deliberately avoid using the word “employee” here and keep the small-business nonsense out of the part that really matters.

Tohma: “You’re arguing over something so trivial.”

Masaru: “It’s not my fault!”

~~~~~

Thomas: “You’re being immature, even for you.”

Marcus: “Y-Y-*You’re* immature!”

The joke of Marcus proving how immature he is means that instead he’s snapping at Thomas, somewhat shifting away from the issue with Agumon. Meanwhile, Masaru was more subtly and relevantly showing his immaturity by trying to insist that their argument is totally all Agumon’s fault and not even slightly his.

We also lose the interesting implications of Tohma thinking this whole argument is over something trivial.

Masaru: “Fine! I’m more than enough for one or two Digimon!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Hah. It’ll probably be *easier* without you, just you wait and see!”

Marcus’s extra jab about it being easier without Agumon shifts this more into an insistence that Agumon was somehow holding him back, rather than focusing on the more relevant point that he simply wants to feel like he can do this without help from anyone.

Agumon: “We’ll see about that, Aniki!”

~~~~

Agumon: “Hmph. Good luck, ‘cause you’re gonna need it!”

By wishing Marcus good luck, even if he means it as an insult, dub-Agumon is implying somewhat more of a sentiment of at least not wanting Marcus to get himself hurt doing this, which original-Agumon didn’t realise until later.

(Dub-Agumon doesn’t happen to call him Boss in this line, but he did so in an earlier line, so he is still doing that in the dub, too.)

The point I made in the original post about how these two scenes feel like one connected scene that ends on the note of Masaru going off to prove himself rather than them falling out doesn’t quite apply as much in the dub. Partly it’s because the dub doesn’t have the opening here, which isn’t its fault, but it also uses different BGM in each scene.

Elecmon: “So many toys to play with!” [evil chuckling]

I’m sure you can tell without me quoting the van driver’s line that this is not Elecmon echoing anything that any human said at all. Apparently it’s coming to the human world just because it genuinely personally likes messing with electronic devices. That is not how this is supposed to work, at all. Not even in the dub’s slightly different version of things!

Masaru: “Now there’ll be peace once again in the Daimon family.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Finally I have some peace now that Agumon’s not around.”

Marcus not mentioning his family makes this less about the petty eating and snoring concerns that the argument started off about. But this still does very much carry the tone of him trying to insist to himself that he’s totally happier this way when he very obviously isn’t.

Masaru: “I’ll do it all by myself.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Soon he’ll see! I don’t need *him* around!”

This, though, I don’t really like. The point was never specifically about Masaru proving anything to Agumon, and it wasn’t even specifically about the fact that he needs Agumon in particular. Masaru just wanted to prove, to himself, that he could do this (whatever “this” was) by himself.

Marcus’s intonation here is also quite overly-moody, making this come across a lot more like just a temporary tantrum rather than that this is connected to something that runs deep.

The dub decides to put a commercial break after this scene rather than after the Elecmon scene where the original opening went, even though this scene is short enough that they could probably have just as easily put it before it. I… think I like that choice? The Elecmon scene was always a bit unnecessary, so lingering more closely on the note of Marcus’s moodiness feels better. (Though it specifically lingers on that dub-changed line that I don’t like much, so, eh.)

That said, this next set of scenes cutting between Masaru out on his own stewing in his frustration and the DATS members trying to talk to Agumon in his Digivice does feel like it’s supposed to be one long connected thing in the original. So I dunno.

Megumi: “Look, it’s your favourite! A cheeseburger wrapped in another cheeseburger! With a cheeseburger for dessert!”

Um, that sure is a way to have a cheeseburger. Since she’s holding what looks like a perfectly normal burger, I can only assume she’s lying to try and make it sound more enticing to Agumon. (Also, haven’t you got the memo, Megumi? Agumon’s favourite is Sarah’s fried eggs, obviously.)

Yoshino: “How will they ever make up?”

Tohma: “It’s not something we should interfere with.”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “You think those guys will ever be partners again?”

Thomas: “I have more important things to do than second guess those two.”

Originally the implication from Tohma was definitely that he imagined they would make up sooner or later and just felt it wasn’t any of his business to try and force it to happen. But Thomas sounds like he’s implying he wouldn’t care if they didn’t ever make up at all. That’d have been reasonable for him before he came to respect Marcus, but not now.

Satsuma: “They must learn why they’re important to each other. If they don’t find that answer, this is as far as they go.”

~~~~~

Sampson: “They need each other. But if they can’t see that, there’s no place for them here.”

Sampson is spelling things out a lot more explicitly for us. And it also sounds like he’s only thinking about this in terms of their suitability as DATS agents. The sense I got from Satsuma was that he was thinking more broadly about their growth as individuals and is concerned about that, DATS agents or not.

Masaru: (That little shithead. He was the one who first said he wanted to be my follower.)

~~~~~

Marcus: (I can’t believe him! He was the one who said he wanted me to be his boss in the first place. Then he gets upset when I act like a boss.)

That last dub-added part misses the point a bit. This is supposed to be about Masaru still having room to feel like he doesn’t need anyone, because Agumon initiated their partnership and looked up to him. This isn’t about Marcus acting in any particular way while being in that “boss” role at all.

(Maybe this could be read as Marcus deflecting from the real point here – but that’s not even necessary, since the real point is him being able to tell himself he doesn’t need Agumon. Masaru was also essentially deflecting from that.)

Masaru: “Damn it!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “This day just keeps gettin’ better and better…”

Marcus has more to say as he almost falls over from his missed baseball swing and leaves. I’m not sure I like his comment here, like he’s just thinking about this as one of those Bad Days where everything goes wrong, as if he was playing baseball as a totally unrelated way to pass the time and then this mishap just added to the Bad Things pile. Really, Masaru’s playing baseball because of the initial problem, as a way to physically let off some steam, and then he probably messes up as a result of that frustration of his, which only serves to amplify it.

Maybe it’s just the tone I don’t like as much – Marcus simply sounds fed up and exasperated, rather than actively frustrated about something that isn’t really the baseball at all.

Lalamon: “You always said you hated being in the Digivice because you were alone.”

~~~~~

Lalamon: “You said you hated being in the Digivice because it’s cramped and lonely.”

Ayy, the dub is still consistently sticking with its added emphasis that Agumon doesn’t like cramped spaces. I’m so weirdly pleased at this one bit of extra nuance that they manage to be completely consistent and also not-too-unsubtle about – probably because they’re not usually nearly this good. It’s to the point that I’m starting to have a strong theory that someone on the dub writing team had claustrophobia themselves and was projecting this onto Agumon, making consistently writing it this way personal to them, because they otherwise do not usually care enough to think about and follow through with the implications of minor changes like this.

Agumon: “You two wouldn’t understand.”

Gaomon: “That’s for sure. But that’s why I’m interested.”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Just drop it, you guys, you don’t understand!”

Gaomon: “It’s disgraceful. A member of DATS should take pride in his partnership.”

Original-Gaomon was simply curious here, perhaps showing a side of him that’s similar to his master’s very scientific approach to things. Dub-Gaomon is also showing similarity to Thomas in his strong sense of duty (plus pride in his partnership because he’s a dog)… but he is also kind of being more of a dick in the process.

Gaomon: “Fighting with your master…”

~~~~~

Gaomon: “Arguing with your superior…”

Since dub-Gaomon doesn’t call Thomas “Master”, this had to be changed, and this is a perfectly reasonable change, but it does still give Gaomon more of a sense of being an army grunt rather than a loyal dog.

Gaomon: “Interesting. And why do you argue so often, do you think?”

Gaomon’s tone at the end here is also kind of dickish, like he’s implying that it should be obvious why Lalamon and Yoshi argue a lot. Geez, dub-Gaomon, chill.

Lalamon: “Yoshino’s always really lazy! She doesn’t clean up her room, she doesn’t fold her laundry, she has bad sleeping habits and—”

~~~~~

Lalamon: “Yoshi’s great, but she’s bossy and messy! And you should see what she does with her toenail clippings—”

“Bossy” is a lot more in line with the Yoshi we already know (at least towards Marcus, who kind of deserves it), though the “messy” part is similar to the original in hinting at a side of her we don’t usually see. But overall – no thanks in large part to the toenail clippings joke – there’s much less of a sense in the dub that Yoshi’s an entirely different person at home and that she doesn’t work nearly as hard in her home life as she does at DATS.

Katsumata: “Da… Daimon!”

Masaru: “Katsumata? You’re still hanging ‘round here?” [he turns to walk away]

~~~~~

Boomer: “Huh? Oh… Marcus!”

Marcus: “Hey, Boomer. Uh, sorry I can’t really talk right now. I’ll see ya.” [he turns to walk away, muttering under his breath] “Doof.”

Masaru’s interaction with Katsumata is obviously somewhat unfriendly from the start, based on both their tones and Masaru’s implication of “I thought I drove you out of this turf”. But Marcus and Boomer are both being… polite to each other? I would have assumed they were friends based on this, until Marcus insulted him under his breath.

Which, since they’re evidently not friends – especially given what’s about to happen – just makes it come across as incredibly off that Marcus even pretended to be polite to him in the first place. Masaru would never do that; he never beats around the bush and would never hide it if he had a problem with someone. That straightforward sincerity he has is a really big part of his character and I am sad to see so much less of it there in Marcus.

Since Marcus was enough of a jerk to pretend to be nice and then insult them under his breath, it then also comes across like Boomer and his cronies surround Marcus for a beatdown mostly because of that, rather than that they’ve had a run-in with him before and want revenge.

Masaru: “What bad luck.”

Katsumata: “Cursing your fate won’t do you any good.”

Masaru: “I was talking about you. I’m extremely pissed off right now!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “You *don’t* wanna start a fight with me today.”

Boomer: “Just ‘cause it’s five against one? Hah. We’re callin’ the shots this time around.”

Marcus: “Is that what you think? Back off, Boomer, before I teach you bullies a lesson!”

Boomer: “Yeah, right. Get him, guys!”

On the other hand, Marcus’s “today” does imply that he might have had a fight with this dude sometime before. (Unless he just means “start a fight with me” in the very general sense that people often come to him looking for a fight and not necessarily this guy in particular).

That line is also the only part of this scene that gets across the important sense that Marcus is especially in the mood to give someone a beatdown right now because of everything that’s been going on.

The rest of it… really doesn’t. Bullies? I don’t know if this is trying to say that these guys are known bullies that Marcus has heard of or dealt with before (in which case, why would he bother being nice to them?), or just a comment on the fact that they’re surrounding him five-on-one (though Marcus isn’t entirely innocent in this, since he insulted them first). But either way, this is the dub trying to reassure us that, hey, really, it’s okay that our protagonist beats up these guys, because they’re bullies! They’re bad guys! Marcus is being the good guy here, see!

That is not supposed to be the point of this. Masaru wasn’t beating up unwilling bystanders – he would not do that – and only did this because these dudes were looking for a fight. But this is very much supposed to be Masaru doing something that is kind of not okay, as a result of his frustration with himself set off by his argument with Agumon. That’s the point! It’s good for this to not be a great thing for Masaru to do! Characters – even good characters – are allowed to do bad things. That’s what makes stories more interesting.

Marcus also at least tries to de-escalate the situation by warning Boomer to back off. That makes the resulting beatdown a lot more on Boomer for refusing to listen, and a lot less on Marcus, who is at this point mostly acting in self-defence. Apparently Marcus would have been perfectly happy to walk away from this if they’d had second thoughts and left him alone.

But Masaru never gave them that chance. Once they’d incited aggression first by surrounding him, Masaru took that as a free excuse to start letting loose on these dudes without giving them an opportunity to change their minds. He wanted an excuse to vent his frustration through violence and wasn’t going to back out of it once he’d been given one. Again, that’s the point.

Agumon: (Aniki hurt my pride.)

~~~~~

Agumon: (You really hurt my feelings, Boss…)

This is almost the same, but hurt feelings is a bit more of a general idea that hurt pride. Pride in particular is especially relevant here, since Agumon and Masaru both have a lot of it and that’s a big part of the reason why this is happening.

At least the musical cue as Marcus stands over the beaten dudes is appropriately sinister and painting Marcus as very much not a hero in this situation. The dub soundtrack people have the right idea, even if the dub writers don’t.

Marcus: “See? I don’t need help from anyone.”

Marcus has an added silence-filling line as he walks away, pointing out things that were already implied in the original because who needs subtlety. Also, hey, look, it’s almost like he really did just beat up those guys for his own issuey reasons and not because he was being a good guy defeating the bullies, how about that!

Though I also think this is somewhat missing the point. Yes, a lot of this episode is about Masaru trying to insist he doesn’t need anyone’s help. But this particular part is also here to show that his usual pastime of street fights against other humans isn’t enough for him any more, that he needs something more that fighting Digimon can give him. That’s what’s supposed to be the main thing on his mind as he walks away from this too-easy victory, rather than the more general don’t-need-anyone issue.

This whole part is one of my favourite delightfully-subtle bits of this episode, and the dub watered it down so much.

Old man: “Well, well, my angry young friend.”

Pfft. Not an inappropriate thing to be calling him right now.

Old man: “The things you truly need appear even when you’re not looking for them. That’s because you understand why you need them.”

~~~~~

Old man: “The things you truly need appear even when you’re not looking for them. So look for what’s new in your life and figure out why you might need it.”

Unlike last time the old man showed up to be vague and metaphorical, this time the dub actually translates his speech almost entirely word-for-word! Amazing. This is the one bit that’s slightly different – but if anything, the dub’s version makes more sense at a part where the original was a little bit “???”, so, hey, good job. This does also mean that the old man is somewhat more actively giving Marcus advice in the dub than in the original, but that doesn’t really make a difference anyway (because Marcus is still not listening).

Boomer: “What luck. I can’t believe I lost to Marcus again.”

Okay, so the dub is definitely going with the fact that Boomer is someone Marcus laid a beatdown on before today. They really shouldn’t have thrown doubt on that to begin with by having them sound like they’re being polite to each other in that earlier scene.

Katsumata: “Damn it, the stupid light’s taking too long again! Come on, change!”

Elecmon: “Lights, change!”

~~~~~

Boomer: “Why won’t these stoplights change already?! C’mon, c’mon!”

Elecmon: “More toys to play with!”

…So, yep, Elecmon coming here is totally unrelated to anything Boomer is saying or feeling. And therefore it’s nothing to do with Marcus that this is happening. (Which also makes it a hugely convenient coincidence that he happens to be nearby to this Digimon incident when he doesn’t have DATS to tell him where to find it.)

Agumon: “I decided I wouldn’t come out until Aniki apologises.”

~~~~~

Agumon: “I’m staying here until Boss apologises, so blame him if something goes wrong!”

Dub-Agumon is being more of an immature dick here. If something goes wrong that he could have helped with, it’s totally not his fault for choosing to put his personal issues above the importance of the case, sure.

Bystander: “I still can’t believe that no-one was seriously injured!”

Yeah, sure, dub, you just fill a silence with this to reassure the kids. It’s a huge flaming car crash, but it’s fine! Nobody was even really hurt, let alone killed!

Masaru: “It’s okay. You’re not hurt anywhere.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “It’s okay, kid, you aren’t hurt. Thanks to me, of course!”

Marcus, unlike Masaru, feels the need to make things about himself here, somewhat putting the damper on his selfless moment of heroism. Not completely, but he comes across as slightly less genuinely selflessly good as a result.

(It could be read like that comment is a result of the I-can-do-everything-alone issues he’s having this episode, but it feels like now of all times is when he should stop acting that way at all. That was the idea behind this bit in the original. Marcus’s tone for that part is still quite soft, so it also doesn’t sound like it’s part of his overcompensating.)

Agumon: “Aniki!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Oh no!”

Because “Aniki” is two lip-flaps, they can’t just replace a lone “Aniki!” with a lone “Boss!”, so instead Agumon says this, coincidentally sounding more worried than he did originally.

Yoshi: “Marcus, where’ve you been? Why didn’t you contact us?”

Marcus: “I’ve been busy doing my job!”

Yeah, sure, doing your job definitely includes playing baseball and beating up some random dudes. (Masaru did not try and make any such claim.)

Yoshino: “You don’t have a partner, so just wait here.”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “Without a partner, you’re useless, so just stay out of the way, Marcus.”

Yikes, Yoshi. Calling him outright useless like this is going to rile him up even more.

With the dub’s insistence on using its evolution music every single time someone evolves, at least these shorter evolution animations mean that the music doesn’t awkwardly loop exactly twice, and instead it plays smoothly through the two animations.

Masaru: “Even if I am [being absurd], I’ll use it to cut through a new path! That’s what a man does!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “An ultimate fighter never quits! Let’s go, you overgrown puppy!”

Even aside from removing the manliness part, they also removed the rest of what was fun about this line. Masaru has a delightful insistence about how he doesn’t care if he’s being absurd, that can be a good thing that’ll help him win! Marcus is just… never quitting, and then trash-talking his opponent. Which is fine, but… simple.

Agumon: “Aniki!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Oh, Boss!”

More ways for the dub to get around the lip-flap issue with short exclamations like this.

Yoshi: “Chasing something we may not be able to catch, to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved! Marcus must be terrified all alone.”

[cut to Marcus on Garurumon’s back]

Marcus: “Yaaaaa-hooooo!”

Look, I get the joke they’re going for here, but doing so compromises two characters. Why would Yoshi even worry about Marcus being terrified, after she literally just complained that he won’t want to be saved? She knows him, geez.

And then Marcus having great fun riding the Garurumon would normally be perfectly fine – see Drimogemon last episode – but one of the interesting points about this part in the original is that Masaru wasn’t having nearly as much fun with this as he had with Drimogemon before, as a sign that he knows deep down how outmatched he is without Agumon.

Masaru: “Hey, asshole, how far are you gonna go? Stop sometime! Damn, my arms are giving out! Are you trying to see which of us lasts longer?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Hey, you digital dimwit, give it up! You’re never gonna be able to shake me off you! …Except my arms are starting to get tired. Well, let’s see who gives out first!”

He’s also a lot more openly cocky about being able to hold on, generally, despite that he does admit his arms are getting tired. Masaru’s lines gave more of a subtle sense that he was hoping it would stop so he wouldn’t have to keep holding on, if still not directly admitting that.

Masaru: “Hey. Don’t underestimate me!”

~~~~~

[Garurumon growls]

Marcus: “Woof.” [he lets out a wordless battle cry]

As much as I am kind of amused by Marcus aggressively making fun of his enemy being a big dog, I am sad that this comes in place of that fun original line in which Masaru had decided Garurumon was totally underestimating him, which definitely wasn’t him projecting his own self-doubt onto it.

Masaru: “Damn it, what do I do now?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Oh, that’s right! I’m on my own here!”

Somewhat less of a sense in the dub line that Marcus is starting to wonder how the hell he’s going to win this now.

Marcus: “…Not fun.”

Marcus has this little comment about how it felt to be slammed into a wall, and I enjoy it.

Masaru: “Am I not… strong enough to beat him…? Is it really only a Digimon that can stop a Digimon…?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Man, maybe I’m not strong enough to defeat this guy… Maybe it really *does* take a Digimon to defeat a Digimon…”

Despite his “maybe”s, Marcus generally sounds a lot more sure about this here, like he’s not actually having any real difficulty accepting this now, whereas Masaru was still struggling with it to the point of phrasing it as a question.

Marcus: “But still, there’s no way I’m gonna give up even if this turns out to be my last stand…!”

The dub has some extra lip-flap here, so this is also added in. Which I’m not super sold on. In keeping with a dub difference in episode 1 (wow, consistency), Marcus is apparently openly willing to just throw his life away for no good reason. Plus, the fact that he’s explicitly accepting the possibility he might get killed here means he really has accepted that he can’t do this with a lot more willing certainty than Masaru did.

(At least the dub managed to phrase the concept of him dying in a way that sounds natural despite not directly mentioning death.)

Masaru: (I was wrong… I need…)

~~~~~

Marcus: (What was I thinking? I couldn’t have defeated that guy [Tortamon] by myself, and I can’t beat Garurumon either! I need Agumon, and now I’ll never get to tell him I’m sorry!)

These are both lines that take up the same amount of time, believe it or not. Marcus is way more internally-talkative and generally perfectly articulating the problem he was having and the Lesson He’s Learned. Meanwhile, Masaru was coming to this realisation a lot more slowly and gradually, barely able to articulate it to himself beyond the most simple and important part. The original’s writers were happy to leave some silent gaps in between his thoughts to do the rest of the work more subtly.

The dub’s also really doubling down on the idea that Marcus is very consciously aware that he’s probably about to be killed here. Him lamenting not being able to apologise to Agumon is cute, but I still don’t know if I like him having admitted the about-to-die part to himself in the first place.

Sadly, the dub does not have the extra layer of Marcus’s screams of exertion that are what’s physically coming out of his mouth during this part. Regardless, these are definitely internal thoughts, because they have an echoey sort of effect on them to imply that. (The original doesn’t use that effect for its inner monologue lines at all.)

Masaru: (I need… I need Agumon! I want to fight together with Agumon!)

~~~~~

Marcus: (I get it now. I need you, Agumon! What makes us strong isn’t you or me… it’s both of us working as a team!)

Them working together as a team being the reason they’re strong is a cute (and correct) sentiment, don’t get me wrong, but I still like it less how Marcus is able to perfectly articulate this to himself and has just very straightforwardly Learned His Lesson.

Also, the loss of specifically “I want to fight together with Agumon” loses the possibly-unintentional call-forward in that line, which makes me a little sad.

Marcus: “Right. We’re the ultimate team!”

With the dub’s “ultimate team” being a whole Thing that’s in more than just this episode, it has a more impactful effect to bring it back here that the original can’t do. So that’s a plus for the dub, at least.

Marcus: “Never surrender, GeoGreymon!”

The evolution theme, being an instrumental remix of the dub’s opening theme, happened to have the part of its melody which matches with the dub’s opening lyric of “Never surrender!” just a few seconds before this line. Heh. I wonder if that was deliberate.

Masaru: “There’s no way you can lose to a Digimon like that!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Remember, you’ll never lose as long as we fight together!”

Marcus’s line here is more adorable than Masaru’s, putting the focus on their partnership rather than just implicitly insulting their opponent! (It could be read that Masaru was specifically referencing the fact that Garurumon doesn’t have a partner and that’s why GeoGreymon should win, but if so that’s not all that clear.) I approve.

Masaru: “You did it, Agumon!”

Agumon: “Aniki!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “You did it, Agumon!”

Agumon: “*We* did!”

The dub did indeed go for “you” with the translation of Masaru’s subject-ambiguous Japanese line – and then they had Agumon add in a “we”, for maximum adorableness!

Masaru: “We can beat any Digimon if we’re fighting together!”

Agumon: “Yeah! We’re the strongest combination ever!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “As long as the two of us work together, no Digimon can stand against us!”

Agumon: “Yeah, we’re still the ultimate team, Boss!”

The dub’s version of this is basically the same right here, but what it unfortunately doesn’t do that the original did is directly echo what the two of them said in the beginning of the episode, but with the speakers swapped. Here’s the earlier bits:

Agumon: “As if any Digimon could beat us when we’re fighting together!”

Masaru: “Yeah! Because we’re the strongest combination ever!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “There’s no Digimon that can beat the ultimate team!”

Marcus: “Yeah! Agumon and I are the strongest team ever!”

Alas, apparently the dubbers didn’t realise that was a deliberate callback and make sure the earlier lines were worded so they’d work with this.

Agumon: “Nah, it’s fine. I’m sorry, too.”

~~~~~

Agumon: “No. I should be apologising to *you*.”

The dub’s version of this contains the awkward implication that Agumon isn’t just giving his own apology but also feels like Marcus didn’t even need to apologise in the first place. Which isn’t right, since both of them were equally at fault here. I don’t know if the dub even meant to imply this, but that’s how Agumon’s phrasing reads.

Masaru: “Crap, it’s Yoshino. Run, Agumon!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Oh man, I’d rather face another Digimon than Yoshi. Run!”

The original reads like Masaru is trying to run because Yoshino is going to force him to clean up his mess. In the dub, it reads like it’s not so much about the clean-up and more like he’s mostly running because Yoshi is scary when she’s mad, which has a vaguely uncomfortably sexist vibe to it.

(Also, why is he acting like facing another Digimon would be a bad thing? Of course he’d rather fight another Digimon than face Yoshi, regardless of her anger or the clean-up, because fighting Digimon is his favourite thing!)

Overall differences

Well, at least they didn’t ruin the overall point of the episode like they could have by changing the reason Marcus and Agumon fall out. I had wondered if the bizarre misconception I’ve seen of “this episode is bad because they fall out over fried eggs!!!” came from the dub, but no, it very much didn’t. That part is perfectly intact. That said, there’s a lot of other changes going on in this episode that I’m not too fond of, especially because a lot of them mess with the fun nuanced bits.

The ridiculous small-business jokes during their argument further highlight how nonsensical it always was to call Agumon Marcus’s “employee”, and they detract from the meaningful points being made there about their respective roles in the relationship.

Elecmon is entirely lucid and simply coming here because it wants to mess around with traffic lights, which is extremely not how things work, not even in the dub’s version of why these Digimon incidents are happening. It also means this incident isn’t indirectly Marcus’s fault, which was a thing I enjoyed in the original.

The scene where Marcus beats up the dudes is probably my least favourite of the changes. The dub completely fails to grasp that Masaru doing something kinda not okay is the whole point of that scene. Instead it scrambles to insist that their kids’ show protagonist is still a 100% squeaky clean good person actually, because look, he’s only beating up bullies! And yet despite that, Marcus also acts weirdly uncharacteristically polite to this person that he has every reason to openly dislike.

Just like in episode 3, Marcus is a lot more articulate and self-aware about admitting exactly what his problem is and the lesson he’s learned in this episode (though at least in this episode he actually learns it), which continues to be less interesting and nuanced than the way Masaru struggles a lot more to fully accept and understand his issues. There’s also a recurrence of the thing from dub episode 1 in which Marcus is fully, consciously aware of the possibility that he might die, which is not something Masaru ever quite lets himself acknowledge even when he’s inches away from being eaten.

At least a few of the lines in the scene where he and Agumon make up are changed to be a little bit more adorable in the dub than they were originally, so there’s that.

#digimon #digimon savers #digimon data squad

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i-cant-type-help · 5 years ago

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Last Resort

(Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Summary: When Y/N is left without a date to the Yule Ball, she turns to Draco to help with her problem. Unbeknownst to her, Draco has been waiting for this moment all along.

Warnings:angst, FLUFF and language

Word Count:3250

A/N: one word: finally.

You clenched your fists tightly around the knife and fork, bending the metal slightly. Pansy was hammering your head with flaunts about how Draco had asked her to the Yule Ball yesterday and how he had promised to wear a yellow tie tonight, just to match her yellow dress.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Blaise asked, throwing you a cautious look as he watched your face grow redder by the second, “You look like you’re about to break that fork”. He slowly took the knife and fork out of your hands, careful not to hurt you. You ignored him completely and instead tightened your fists, digging your nails into your hands.

“Okay, well now you look like you’re going to break your hand” He chuckled lowly. You released your hands and rolled your eyes, before throwing him a fake smile.

“Someone’s on their period” Blaise muttered.

“Wow, that’s so fucking funny.” You snapped, throwing your head onto the table and groaning. You felt fingers roughly brush through your hair, tugging at it.

“She’s just upset that no one has asked her to the Yule Ball” Pansy gibed, causing you to groan louder.

“You know, Pansy, your fingers aren’t very soft and you stroking my hair is not very soothing” You snarked, sitting back up.

“No need to snap at me just because you’re gonna be alone tonight and I’m not” she bragged, “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you”.

“And, besides, Draco says I’ve got a very soothing touch” Pansy jested, curiously stroking her own fingers. You snorted sarcastically and turned your head in the opposite direction.

“Wait, you’re actually upset?” she giggled, causing everyone else to giggle around her. Except Blaise, who shot you a sympathetic look.

“Y/N” Pansy said softly, “You didn’t actually think anyone was going to ask you, did you? I mean come on, Y/N, you’re a nice girl but you’re hardly girlfriend material. People just don’t see you in that way, you’re just not an attractive person. It’s not really your fault or anything”

You shot up immediately and quickly made your way to the exit of the Great Hall, trying your best to keep your composure and hold your head high. You didn’t want Pansy to see how much she had upset you, you could still hear her faint giggles as you left the Hall.

Once you were outside you let the tears fall down your face as you let out little strangled sobs. You began to pick up your pace down the halls, making your way to your room. You just wanted to see your best friend, and you needed to see him now.

He had mentioned how he was going to be late to breakfast today, and so you hoped that if you were quick enough you would be able to catch up with him now before he left. Your eyes met the entrance of the common room at the end of the dungeons, so you picked up your pace even more, knowing you were close to being able to let your emotions out without having to deal with the judgement of others.

Your heart seemed to clench with anticipation with each step you took, until you finally reached the common room and slipped inside. There you saw Draco, fixing his collar in one of the mirrors, and the pressure in your chest released. You let out a strangled sort of sob and instantly ran up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying yourself in his chest.

“Y/N?” Draco said softly, his hands in the air in a shocked stance. He began to process that your shoulders were slightly shaking against his chest and cautiously placed his arms around your head, pressing you tighter into his chest. He began to trace his fingers along your neck, and whispered small shushes into your ear, hoping to calm you down.

Draco had known you for years now, and you had come to him crying a few times before. Draco had memorised exactly how you liked to be held and the best ways to help you feel at ease. It was important to him that he got those moments right, seeing you upset always made him feel an uncomfortable pinch in his heart and Draco hated that. Of course Draco would never tell his mates something like that, heck they already teased him for actually hugging her, Draco dreaded to think about what they would say if they knew he actually memorised the way to keep you calm.

You had been silent for a few moments now and your cries began to die down, so he finally spoke again, “Y/N, is everything okay?”. You looked up at him with hazy eyes and unhooked your arms from his neck, instead deciding to grip onto his shirt.

“Draco, take me to the yule ball” You pleaded, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“What-”

“Please, Draco!” You cried out, gripping his shirt harder as you threw you head onto his chest and began to sob again.

“Y/N, please calm down” Draco whispered. He softly gripped onto your elbows and began to lead you to a near couch. As soon as you sat, you dropped your head down again and covered your face with your hands. Draco noticed this and took your hands away from your face, instead replacing them with his own as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” Draco questioned in a reassuring tone, continuing to stroke your cheekbones.

“No one asked me to the Yule Ball” You muttered, still not looking Draco in the eye, “I’m a fucking troll”. You noticed Draco’s hands had froze. You finally looked to see his eyes wide in shock and there was an unfamiliar glint in them which made you slightly uneasy.

Draco hadn’t even noticed that you were looking at him, instead he was thinking back to the day the Yule Ball was announced.

“None of you are asking Y/N to the ball, got it” Draco commanded to a group of slytherin boys, only to be met by scoffs.

“Why? Finally getting the balls to ask her out yourself?” Blaise asked smugly. Draco hesitated for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth quickly.

“No” He finally said.

“That’s ridiculous” A fifth year spat, “If you’re not having her, then why can’t we have her?”

“Because I don’t want your greasy hands touching her” Draco sneered, causing the other boy to pounce slightly before being held back by one of his friends.

“He has a point, Draco” Theo stated, barley looking up from his book.

“I can’t ask her out in case she says no” Draco argued back, becoming more frustrated by the second.

“Scared someone will actually say no to the slytherin prince?” The fifth year bickered again.

Draco chose to ignore this, instead saying “But I don’t want anyone else taking her, so don’t even think about it. Any of you.”. Draco felt himself tense up at the thought of someone else touching you, holding you the way he wanted to.

“And tell all your friends the same thing” Draco firmly added, ending the debate there.

Draco gulped and focused himself onto the present once again, watching your eyes as they scanned his face.

“You’re not a troll, Y/N. Don’t ever say that” Draco said plainly, a tightness behind his voice.

“So you’ll go with me then?” You beamed, your voice significantly becoming higher with hope.

“Well I- I already asked Pansy” Draco stuttered, moving his eyes to the floor.

“Of course, Pansy” You breathed harshly with a bitter tone. You moved away from him as you said it, taking his hands off your face and distancing yourself.

“Did something happen with Pansy?” Draco said delicately, scanning your face for tells.

You took in a sharp breath and bit your lip, considering whether or not to tell Draco what had happened. You turned yourself to face him and he flashed you a small, unsure smile. That was enough reassurance for you and you soon told him exactly what had happened, feeling the words fall out of your mouth like word vomit.

You noticed how his face slowly twisted with each word you spoke and his eyes flickered with anger every few moments. When you looked down to avoid his intense gaze, you saw his hands were tightly gripping his knees, so much so that his knuckles were turning pale. You hadn’t even had the chance to tell him how you fled the room before he interrupted you.

“I’ll go with you” he said firmly, taking your hand in his and lacing his fingers through yours.

“Wh- Really?” You whispered,meeting Draco’s eyes once again.

“Of course, Y/N” Draco soothed, stroking the side of your hand with his thumb.

“What about Pansy?” You questioned.

“Forget about Pansy” He said, throwing you a lopsided and cocky grin.

“Oh, Draco!” You cried out gleefully and wrapped your arms around him once again, resting your head into the crook of his neck. Draco lightly ran his fingertips down your spine and breathed in the scent of your hair, basking in the moment of you holding him close to you.

“Only if you say ‘thank you, Draco’” Draco whispered teasingly into your ear after a few moments, causing you to let out out a small giggle.

“Thank you, Draco” You laughed.

“This is very serious, Y/N. Now say ‘Draco is the best-est friend ever and insanely hot’” Draco commanded mockingly, causing you to let out an even louder laugh.

“Draco is the best-est friend ever” You repeated in a baby voice, pressing your face further into his neck.

“AND insanely hot” Draco insisted.

“And insanely hot” You replied, looking up at him finally and throwing him an eager smile. He smirked at you slightly and pressed a light kiss to the top of your head.

Later

You finished dotting powder across your face, adding the final touches to your look. You swirled slightly in the mirror, marvelling at you ruby red ballgown and the way it moved. Grinning to yourself, you ran your fingers down your sides in admiration of how it hugged your figure.You actually felt quite pretty in your dress, despite the earlier events making your confidence falter significantly.

“What are you smiling at?” Pansy asked bitterly, her eyes scanning you up and down with jealous intent. When you didn’t entertain her with an answer she turned herself towards Daphne and continued to sob into her shoulder. Daphne threw you a sympathetic look and mouthed a quick sorry before turning her attention completely to Pansy, running her hands down her back in a comforting manner.

You slipped out of the room quickly, avoiding confrontation. You made your way to the common room, making sure you didn’t stumble or trip in your heels which you were unused to wearing.

You noticed Draco before he saw you,his head turned away from you in conversation with Theodore Nott. Theo saw you almost immediately, sending you a big grin before tapping Draco’s shoulder and pointing towards you. Draco turned to you and the look of confusion on his face instantly dissolved into a look of shock, his lips slightly parted at the sight of you in your dress, sending him a shy smile.

“Close your mouth, Draco” Theo muttered humorously to Draco as he made his way to you and lightly grabbed your forearms.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N” Theo complimented whilst pulling you into a hug, “Go easy on Draco tonight, he’s very socially inept with pretty girls, as you well know”

“Theo!” You giggled, lightly smacking him on the back. You stayed like this for a few moments before Draco coughed behind you, causing you to pull away.

“I would like to spend some time with my date now, Theo” Draco said in a false harsh tone, before softening his voice when directing it towards you, “If that’s okay with her, of course”. You rolled your eyes teasingly and looped your arm around his before lowering your head onto his shoulder.

“Of course, Draco” Theo smirked,walking away from the both of you but not before adding,“use protection,kiddos!”. You felt heat drastically rise to your cheeks as you burrowed yourself into Draco’s shoulder in embarrassment. Draco tensed up beside you in response before laughing lightly.

“You look beautiful, Y/N” Draco breathed, pressing a kiss onto your head causing your cheeks to heat up even more.

“Thanks, Draco” You said, lifting your head to him, “You look quite handsome yourself”. You weren’t lying when you said it either, you really thought Draco looked striking in his dress robes(which thankfully weren’t yellow). But in all honesty, you thought Draco looked attractive all the time so tonight wasn’t any different.

Draco scanned your face for a few more moments, taking in the way your cheeks creased slightly whilst you smiled and how your eyes glistened in the lighting.

After a few beats, he spoke, “Come with me”. He gripped your arm tighter and began to walk out of the common room. You nodded and buried your head into his shoulder once again, following his footsteps in a comfortable silence.

Draco didn’t speak again until you were both outside in the courtyard, standing next to each other and watching the sun set. You focused on the different colours the sky made, watching them with admiration. But all Draco could focus on was you, and the way you looked so picturesque with the sun falling behind you. Draco finally broke the silence when he saw you shiver slightly.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he trailed his fingertips down your arm which caused you to shiver more.

“A little” You replied quietly. Draco responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in, so your bodies were pressed tightly together and sharing heat.

“Is this okay?” He whispered against your neck, and you quickly nodded back, very aware of how close he was to you right now. You stayed like this for a few more moments whilst Draco slowly rested his chin onto your head.

After a little while you grew more comfortable with the position and nuzzled your head further back into his chest. Draco felt your movement and smirked to himself, a confidence growing in him.

“You know, Y/N” Draco breathed, “I would of gone with you even if this wasn’t to prove Pansy wrong”. You froze from beneath him and unravelled yourself away from him in shock, turning to face him. When you saw that his face dropped slightly, you grabbed his hands in an attempt to show you weren’t angry or disgusted.

“What do you mean?” You asked hastily. Draco’s breath hitched a few times with nerves, considering whether or not to tell you the truth. When you began to stroke his thumbs slightly, he spoke.

“I- Well I was waiting for you to ask me. But when you didn’t I asked Pansy. And I kinda-” Draco explained, nervously. He pulled away from you at the last moment to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck.

“Yes?” You questioned.

“I kinda told all the boys not to ask you to the dance because I wanted to take you myself” He grunted, clearly ashamed. Draco had excepted you to shout, or just leave. But instead you started to laugh to yourself before turning to him and wrapping your arms around him in a hug, laughing into his ear.

“Draco, you absolute dunce. I was waiting for you to ask me!” You giggled, pulling away from him slightly to gaze up at his face and watch as he started to laugh himself. To outsiders you probably looked crazy, but in that moment you didn’t much care.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, Y/N” Draco professed, smiling down at you.

“Me too” You breathed back, returning the smile. You noticed Draco’s eyes began to flutter slightly and he slowly started to lean in. You quickly tutted and gripped Draco’s face, squishing it slightly as you held him back. Draco’s eyes fluttered open straight away and he pursed his already pouted lips.

“Nu-uh-uh” You taunted, “You have to be reminded that I’m not your possession, Draco”. You squished his face one more time before realising it, allowing him to speak.

“No, no. Of course you’re not. That was wrong of me, Y/N. I’m so-” You interrupted him by pressing a finger to his lips.

“It’s fine, Draco” You cooed, bringing your hands around him once again and tracing lines on the back of his neck, “I know your intentions were good”.

Before Draco could say another word, you pressed a small and haste kiss onto his lips. Draco’s mouth instantly formed into a smirk as he carried on where you had left, pressing his lips to yours and wrapping his arms firmly around your waist. You had never done this before, but kissing Draco felt natural, like your lips were perfectly moulded to fit the other. Your stomach rolled with excitement when Draco twisted his face slightly, deepening the kiss further.

Draco’s kiss was a lot longer than yours, as you had expected, as your lips continued to move against each other, moving rhythmically to the beat of each others quick pulses. You continued to deepen the kiss, trying to pull Draco closer to you with your hands, which was basically impossible at this point.

Your lips felt cold when he eventually pulled away to say, “Sorry, Princess, but we do have a Yule Ball to get to” before placing another quick peck onto your lips.

Meanwhile at the Yule Ball, all of your friends were huddled together in a small circle passing light conversation.

“I still can’t believe Draco bailed on me” Pansy complained for the fifth time that night, causing the rest of the group to erupt in groans.

“I’m sorry guys but I just don’t get it. Draco never misses parties” She paused before continuing, “But I guess it’s not a personal thing considering he didn’t come at all, right?”. Daphne sent Pansy a quick nod whilst Theo and Blaise sent each other a quick, knowing glance.

“And hey, at least I actually turned up after being rejected unlike Y/N” Pansy remarked.

“Hey Pansy.” Theo grinned, “You might wanna reevaluate that last statement”. Pansy's head snapped up to the top of the stairs, where you and Draco stood, hand in hand, grinning at each other with loving glances.

“I can’t believe it” Pansy sneered, “I’m the only person in the year who came to the Yule Ball alone”. She could feel a rage raise in her slowly, but it came to a grinding halt when she felt a hand slip into her own. She turned to see Daphne smiling shyly at her.

“Not completely alone.I’m here” Daphne said shyly, a faint blush covering her cheeks. Pansy paused for a while before a smile started to grow.

“Yes, yes you are” Pansy grinned, leading Daphne into the dance floor where you and Draco also began to dance.

“Does this mean we are dating now?” You questioned coyly, running your fingers through Draco’s hair.

“Not if you keep touching my hair” He laughed, pressing another peck onto your lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes” You purred, resting your head onto his chest as he spun the both of you around and wrapped his arms even further around you, pressing you further into his chest until you were nuzzled into him completely.

“Yes” Draco whispered, pressing his chin onto the top of your head and closing his eyes, silently thanking Merlin for Pansy and her temperamental personality.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco Malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Draco Malfoy x OC #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy imagine

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imaginingmultifandom · 4 years ago

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Comfort (Part 4)

George Weasley x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: George hates to see you get hurt by your ex over and over again, but Draco seems to always manage to pull you in somehow. You’ll have to promise your best friend that you’re gonna be more careful from now on. You’re not quite succeeding at that, though.

Words: 2078

A/N: You can find the other parts to Comfort here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Also just a heads-up that the part that’s coming after this one will be the last part in the ‘Comfort’ series! It will be a longer one, though. Now, have fun reading!

The walk back to Hogwarts was a quiet one, but honestly, you preferred it that way. It was a comfortable silence, next to George. He had dropped you off at your dorm room and walked back to his, and you had fallen into your bed almost immediately afterward.

Your mind was spinning as you were laying there, trying to make sense of what had exactly happened during that talk with Draco. You couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that had bothered you the most, and that made you even more restless. It was already way past midnight as your eyes finally fell shut, and when you woke up the next morning you felt anything but refreshed.

Your first few classes of the day went by painfully slow, your only glimmer of hope being the fact that you could meet up with Fred and George during your lunch break later.

After what felt like years, lunch break finally arrived and you made your way over to the Great Hall. You spotted the twins as soon as you entered it, their tall redheaded figures not exactly hard to make out, even as the room was swamped with people.

They were sitting at the table already, and Fred was the one to spot you first. He smiled at you as soon as he spotted you, and gave his twin sitting next to him a nudge in the rib and gestured towards you to draw George's attention to the fact that you had arrived. Then, George looked up to you and gave you a smile as well, though it was a bit softer than his twin brother's.

You hurried up and made your way over to them, knowing that this lunch could do wonders for your mood. There was a free spot next to George, but you made a point out of squeezing between the two of them and making them move purely to annoy them playfully.

"Oi, Y/N," Fred let out, but had a smirk plastered on his face as he teased, "You could have just said that you were that desperate to sit next to me,"

"In your dreams," You teased back, "You know, I just thought this spot looked more comfortable. That's all,"

"Now you've hurt my feelings," Fred mockingly gasped and clutched his chest dramatically, "I thought we had agreed that I'm the better-looking twin and you'd always prefer me,"

"Nope," You replied jokingly, grabbing one of the sandwiches in front of you and popping a bite into your mouth casually, "We've been over this, and I can only repeat: it'll always be George for me. He's the more handsome one out of the two of you,"

"You heard her, Fred." George piped up, and as you looked over to him you weren't sure if your eyes were deceiving you or if his cheeks were really blushing, "Glad that argument is finally settled."

"Y/N's just biased," Fred responded, giving you a wink. Before you had time to think about what he meant by that, he had already changed the subject to a story of what Snape had been up to in his latest class. So, you brushed his cheeky comment aside and instead listened to his and George's back and forth.

By the time your lunch break was nearly over, you had almost forgotten about what had happened yesterday. As the three of you were joking around and chatting, George's thigh was just ever so faintly brushing against yours under the table.

You didn't even think to move your legs at the contact, even as his thigh was fully pressed against yours as he reached across the table to grab some food. Something about his touch made your spine tingle, even if it felt silly for it to have such an effect on you.

Before you could further dwell on this thought, you suddenly felt something else touch you. It was a tap on the shoulder, and you instinctively turned around to see who wanted to talk to you.

Your stomach turned as you saw a familiar blond pull his hand away from your shoulder, and disbelief was written all over your face.

"Hey." Draco simply said, his voice quieter than usual.

"Hey?" You questioned, wondering what it could be that he still wanted from you.

"Can we talk?" He asked, his eyes only fixed on you as a possible attempt to ignore the daggers the twins were sending him with their gazes.

"Haven't you done enough?" George responded in a low voice, his tone laced with a wave of anger you had never heard from him before, "You've had your chance to talk, mate. You blew it."

"I'm talking to Y/N. Not you," Draco responded, the usual snark back in his voice but his eyes still stoically fixed on you. "So, what do you say?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering back between Draco, and the twins on either side of you. Fred and George were both shaking their heads at you slightly, urging you not to go without words.

"I want to apologize." Draco added, "But I'd prefer to do it in private."

Deep down you knew that it took a lot for him to swallow his pride and even admit something like that in front of others, which sadly, somehow made you want to give in to his request. Maybe you could finally get the answers you desired from him, this way.

"Fine." You let out and met Draco's intense gaze. Maybe just to avoid fully seeing the faint look of disappointment on George's face, which you had spotted out of the corner of your eye.

"Good," Draco's expression was still stern, but if you looked closely you could see that he was relieved, "Meet me in the Astronomy Tower before dinner." With another word, he headed back to his table.

"Are you sure about this?" Fred asked as soon as Draco was out of earshot, and you nodded slowly as a response.

"I guess," You said honestly and tried to explain your reasoning, "I just need clarity, and I think he's the only one that can give it to me. It'll be a quick and calm chat this time, I promise."

Fred nodded, and you waited for some kind of response from George. He stayed quiet.

"Do you think it's a bad idea, George?" You asked, not even sure what kind of reaction you had expected from him.

"It's your call, Y/N." He said simply, "And you know I'll always support your decisions. Even if I don't think he's particularly deserving of your time,"

George shifted ever so slightly in his seat as he spoke, and his thigh stopped touching yours. It was a simple movement on his part, but it felt like a punch to the gut to you. Somehow, him missing from your side left you feeling empty.

"Right-" You mumbled a bit awkwardly and let your eyes wander around the room, noticing that most of the other students were already getting ready to leave the Great Hall, "I guess I'll have to head to my next class as well." You were suddenly eager to get out of this situation, the hollow feeling of George's missing touch swirling around your mind and leaving you feeling dazed. "See you at dinner, boys."

"See you, Y/N." They replied in unison, though a bit taken aback by your sudden exit. They both watched as you got up and began walking out of the hall.

But even with your fast pace, you didn't manage to come very far until you could hear someone running up behind you, calling out your name.

"Y/N, wait." George caught up to you with large steps, grabbing ahold of your hand in an attempt to stop you.

"Yes?" You looked from where he was holding your hand up to his eyes, curious why he had come after you.

"I just-" He hesitated, lowering his voice as students passed by you on their way to class, "Just be careful with him, yeah?"

"George," You breathed out, noticing the usual mischief in his eyes had been replaced by earnest concern.

"I mean it." He added, his hand still holding firmly onto yours as neither of you seemed to want to pull away.

"I'm aware that yesterday was a mess, but I'll be fine today," You reassured him, "I can handle it."

"I know you can. I wouldn't doubt that for a second," The redhead gave your hand a light squeeze, and paused before whispering, "I- I'd just hate to see you get hurt again."

"I won't." You said, and in your mind desperately wished that that would turn out to be true.

"Okay, then." George responded with the smallest nod, "Still, you know where to find me if anything goes wrong, Y/N."

You gave him a soft nod as well, hesitantly pulling your hand away from his as you realised you still had to go to class. "I'll head off, now. Don't want to keep my dear teacher waiting," You said sarcastically, pretending to rush off.

"Sure," George smirked at you, "After all you're well known for being the model pupil that would never dare to be late,"

"Oh shut it, Weasley." You stuck your tongue out at him, feeling glad that it was always so easy to switch from a serious conversation to some playful teasing with him.

As you turned around to walk away to class, he called out to the students around you with a grin on his face, "Everyone please make way for our resident teacher's pet! Can't you see she's in a rush?"

You couldn't help the laugh escaping your mouth but still turned around to him one more time to mockingly roll your eyes. He grinned back at you so widely, it made your heart feel full.

Sometime later, you were finally finished with all your classes for the day. This also meant that your meeting with Draco was coming closer and closer, which you simultaneously dreaded and couldn't wait for. It was a weird and uneasy feeling.

Your legs were shaking as you walked up the Astronomy Tower about an hour later, not knowing what to expect. As you reached the final stairs, you realized that Draco had already arrived before you. At first, his back was facing to you as he gazed out of one of the enormous windows.

He turned around as soon as he heard your footsteps though, the look in his eyes giving away genuine surprise about the fact that you had shown up, "I wasn't sure if you would come."

"I told you I would, Draco." You responded matter-of-factly, "And now that I'm here, tell me what it is that you want."

"I meant what I said earlier, I want to apologize." He spoke slowly and then paused. Draco struggled with what to say next, you could see it on his face, "I'm sorry, yeah?"

"Sorry for what?" You wouldn't let him off so easily and tried to appear firm.

"For messing it up yesterday," He mumbled, visibly trying to find the right words, "I know I shouldn't have snapped, I know how you hate that,"

"I do," You responded honestly, your voice calm as you saw that Draco at least tried to put earnest effort into his apology. This finally felt like a real opportunity to talk things out, "And I'm sorry too, Draco. I was way too quick to upset because seeing you with Pansy caught me off-guard-"

"I told you it wasn't anything serious with her." Draco interrupted a bit too harshly, "I just did it because-" He stopped himself at that point, his mouth suddenly falling shut.

"Because of what?" You asked, genuinely surprised by his abrupt change of tone. It just seemed suspicious.

Draco looked at you like you had caught him in the act, and he knew that you would just press further on the issue if he didn't bring his sentence to a finish, "Because I thought you definitely would have gotten with that Weasley boy by now,"

"What?" You narrowed your eyes at him, "Why do you always just assume that something is going on with me and George?"

"Because that's why I broke up with you in the first place," Draco's words left his mouth sooner than he had liked them to, and he desperately wished he could take them back as soon as he saw the crushed look in your eyes.

TAG LIST UNDER CUT

@emo—tional @justmesadgirl @xdmx @sarcasticemmalol @supersouthy @streetfighterrichie @jenniweaslee @thats1rough1buddy @unfortunately-im-awake

#george weasley imagine #draco malfoy imagine #george weasley #Draco Malfoy #george weasley x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter

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basura2319 · 4 years ago

Text

Choices

Pairing: Jango Fett x reader

Requested by: literally no one

WC: 1.7k (oops)

Warnings: angst lots of it, relationship problems , takes place before TPM, has references to Jango’s Legends lore (aka the bounty hunter game).

A/N: I’m really doubting posting this fic on here guys...

Jango couldn’t ignore the pit in his stomach any longer as he descended his new ship, Slave I, towards Bespin.

“You live on Bespin?” asked the female Clawdite lounging on the seat next to him.

Jango, of course, didn’t respond to her.

Zam huffed. “Seriously, you were just talking to me five minutes ago. What’d I do now?”

“Be quiet,” grumbled Jango. The clouds of Bespin were dangerous to navigate, rendering him unable to see anything especially now since the sun was setting.

Zam threw an annoyed glance at him before peering at the silhouette of what she assumed was Cloud City. They got closer to the city and a voice muffled through the ship’s com channel.

“Welcome to Cloud City,” greeted a droid. “What is your business here?”

“I need to get to landing bay 40,” replied Jango.

“Do you have an access code for landing bay 40?”

“Yes, I’m patching it through right now.”

He waited anxiously for the droid’s response.

“The code checks out,” the droid droned. “You may proceed.”

Jango sighed inwardly. He hadn’t seen nor contacted you in weeks because of, well, the “special hunt” Tyranus invited him to partake in. He had so much to tell you and was so nervous about it. Nervous about how you would take in the news of moving to Kamino with all the credits he will earn for being the clone template.

He had sent you a message yesterday saying he’d be back, but you didn’t reply. That’s when he felt it. Felt it deep in his chest that you were angry with him, and for a good reason too. It churned his stomach with nerves.

He found your landing bay and landed the ship without any problems. Jango unbuckled his straps before moving over to help Zam.

“Need me to carry you?” Jango asked.

She stood up slowly, wincing at the pain shooting up from her torso. “No, I think I can manage.”

Jango nodded, pressing a button on his wrist to open the ship’s door. He made his way down the ramp, helmet on his hip as his eyes roamed his surroundings for anyone who might be watching them.

“So do you live here or not,” she questioned again, following him to wherever he was going.

“Something like that,” he replied gruffly, closing the ship.

“Huh, I thought you were more of a person who lived planet to planet,” joked Zam, observing the buildings. “Not in one of these fancy housings.” Jango slung her arm over his shoulder so she wouldn’t fall. “Thanks for letting me crash at your place.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jango finally made it to your complex after a few minutes, holding out his key to the door for entry. He entered the room along with Zam, about to call out your name but the words died in his throat.

You were sitting in the living room as if you were waiting for him all this time with a taut expression, watching him enter with a steely gaze.

“Jango—” At the sight of you, Zam snapped her mouth shut, looking between you and Jango. “Um, hi,” she waved awkwardly at you which was a mistake because the movement made her hiss in pain.

Your cold eyes raked over Zam before landing on him.

Jango cleared his throat. “(Y/N), this is Zam Wessel,” he began reluctantly “She’s going to stay in the spare bedroom for couple of days until she’s well enough to go off on her own.”

You didn’t say anything. You just continued to stare at him.

“It’s okay, I can leave tomorrow,” Zam insisted as Jango told her to go down the hall to the door on the right, happy to put as much distance between her and whatever was happening now.

The door to the room shuts and you’re silent. Jango had seen you angry many times before, as couples do when they spend so many years together. But not like this. So unresponsive and so frigid, especially towards him.

“Cyare—”

“Where have you been Jango,” you said steadily, though he could hear the slight tremor in your voice.

“Look,” he said lowly. “Can we talk about this in our room?”

“No,” you whispered harshly, tears beginning to well up in your already red eyes. “We’re gonna talk about this right now.”

You breathed through your nose and bit the inside of your cheek, trying so hard not to break in front of him. What’s the use? You looked like a mess in front of him anyway with your baggy clothes and sunken face.

He sat down next to you placing his helmet on the floor before making a reach for your hand, but you flinched away from his touch. A dull ache settled in Jango’s chest at the action.

“I know I told you that I was leaving for two days—”

“Yeah,” you snarked. “Which turned into weeks of hearing absolutely nothing from you!”

He winced at your words, though it’s true. He didn’t contact you at all during the hunt for Tyranus’ former apprentice.

“I thought something bad happened to you Jango, god!” your voice cracked, finally letting your tears spill. “I tried contacting Roz, but she clearly didn’t want to tell me what was going on.”

Jango looked at you, regret pooling in his stomach at your distress. The distress he caused.

“I tried comming you over and over and you wouldn’t answer.” You wiped your tears with your shirt as Jango watched, wanting to hold you desperately. “I commed Roz again and no answer.”

He tore his gaze from you and sighed softly. “She’s gone (Y/N).”

You sniffed. “What?”

“Roz,” he raked a hand through his dark hard. “She’s dead. A bounty hunter who was after the same bounty Zam and I were after, killed her.”

You stared at him frozen in shock.

“All because she was associated with me,” Jango explained.

“Jango…” you said faintly.

He kneeled to the floor, between your legs as he held your hands in his, kissing them.

“Mesh’la I’m so sorry,” he murmured against your skin. “But understand, I needed to protect you.”

Still on the floor kneeling, he told you everything. About how he was about to go back to you, but then got sidetracked by the Tyranus’ offer. About the hell he and Zam went through to find that bounty. And that karkin di’kut, Montross, who added more fuel to fire by killing Roz for Jango’s whereabouts and almost killed him. The thought of that son of a bantha ever finding out about your existence—Jango didn’t want to entertain that idea.

It was better that he didn’t contact you at all, but seeing your distraught state now made him question his choices. Made him question if making you go through with his sudden disappearance merited millions of credits.

He got to the part about the bounty reward, watching how you absorbed this information with bewilderment.

“Wait,” you cut him off. “They want to use your genetic makeup to make an army?”

“Yeah…”

You stared at him, confused more than ever. “Why, and for whom?”

“For the Republic,” he said plainly. “As for why, my employer didn’t say.”

“How much did this Tyranus person promise to you give?” you probed him.

“Five million credits,” said Jango. “And…an unaltered clone, (Y/N). A son.”

Your breath hitched as you stare at him in shock, unable to form a sentence. A son for you and Jango, your mind flared in awe.

He squeezed your hand. “Come me with to Kamino.”

“Huh?” you mumbled out.

“The cloners—the Kaminoans I mean— want me to stay on Kamino,” Jango thumbed your hand softly. “For the entire process.” He drew your head forward to place his forehead against yours. “What do you say cyare? We can finally settle down, raise our son like we’ve always talked about.”

It was true. You had been with Jango for three years, two of which you had established your relationship. Yes, you had talked about settling down with Jango someday, having kids.You were excited about it because he made you feel happy and most of all loved like no one else did. Though you never knew when that future would happen. If it was ever going to happen.

However, a question still remained at the forefront of your mind. Were you still going to stick around with him while he continues to go off to his bounties, leaving you alone with his son for weeks again and again? Who’s to say he will stop? Even if they give him enough credits so that he wouldn't have to work for the rest of his life.

The cycle never broke with Jango. He could never take a break, always on the move and you’re tired. So tired of it.

“Jango…” you began cautiously. “I…don’t know…”

The hope in his brown eyes vanished.

“You don’t know?” he echoed, his body stiff between your thighs.

You couldn’t look at him. You loved him with all of your being, but if you were being honest with yourself, you don’t know how much more you can take his constant disappearances. How much more you can take waking up to see he’s not there. How much more you can take the constant loneliness. It sounded selfish, sure, but it’s what you felt. You had raised this issue before to him many times, but he still insisted that it was necessary to secure a future with you.

You told yourself in the beginning that you could get used to what his job demanded of him. But now, as you regarded your lover’s face, the face of a man you would give everything for with blurry eyes, you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered, hearing the crack in his own voice as he held your face.

Your throat became dry and you felt like your heart was chipping away slowly.

“I need…I need time to think about it,” you answered shakily, moving away from his arms to head for bed.

Jango swallowed thickly, standing up to reach for your forearm.

“I really am sorry (Y/N),” Jango said with sorrowful eyes watching you look at him in hurt. “I know that’s not enough to fix my habits, but I am sorry.”

He let his hand fall to his side, watching you walk away without saying a word, silently begging to the universe that you wouldn’t walk away from him.

You were all he cared for in this vast universe after all.

#jango fett #jango fett x reader #i hate this and i'm scared to share this fic

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brycelahelalover · 4 years ago

Text

The jealous one, part 4

Pairing: Bryce Lahela × f!MC (Tesse Sterling)

Warning: slight angst

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Author's note: so here it is, the forth part. After like, how many months? A lot. So, I'm trying to go back to writing but I'm not really getting any inspiration. It sucks. Now that my Ted talk is over, enjoy<3

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Bryce's point of view

Bryce laid in the dark, wide awake. His right hand supporting Melanie's head. He looked down at her, seeing her sleeping face. A peaceful face of someone who had no care in the world. And as much as he wanted to envy her that calm, he couldn't find it in himself to do that. After all, he was the one who pushed himself in all this turmoil. He was the one who decided that pretending to survive was better than living. Just to save her from everything that being with him meant. And after all of that, he was the one who hurt her the deepest.

He really tried to sleep. But like yesterday and the day before that, he was met with pictures of her, rendering his attempts futile. Pictures of every emotion she displayed towards him since the day he called it quits, or rather, since the day he turned his coward thoughts into actions. Pictures of her face, a face that, unlike Melanie's, looked very troubled every time her eyes met his. Eyes he couldn't help but fall in their depth every time they moved his way. And as much as he tried not to drown in them, he found himself struggling to breath in their presence.

He really was stupid to think that pushing her away would get her out of his thoughts.. that pushing her away would be enough to erase the impact she had on his mind, and worse his heart.

But he was quick to realise, nothing can. Which made him bolt straight in his bed. Acknowledging the sweat escaping his curls and trickling down his back. And then he felt her hand, moving down his arm to clutch his hand.

"Bryce? You okay, baby?" She asked in a sleepy voice.

He turned around, ready to dive into her arms. Just to realise, that sweet voice wasn't hers.

"Baby, what's going on?" Melanie asked, worry lines gathering between her brows.

"Nothing, it's just a nightmare." Bryce answered in a grumpy voice.

A nightmare? Really? He thought to himself. The day Tesse becomes a nightmare is the day he loses his mind.. or maybe he already has.. And rather, the only nightmare he's suffering is what his life has come to.

He turned to his nightstand, trying to find some pills for his throbbing head. He opened one of the drawers only to be flashed with a shine of silver Bryce knows oh too well.

He needs to get out of here.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The sun penetrated through the blinds and shone right into Bryce's face, making him hide it in the crock of his hand before turning to face the back of the sofa in an attempt to catch a little more sleep. But in a lack of luck, his alarm decided that was the best time to blast its infamous, obnoxious ring. Bryce groaned, just now registering the hushed voices coming from a few feet away from him.

He turned around to see the TV turned on before noticing his sister perched on one of the loveseats with a raised brow directed at him.

"Well, since you're now awake, I don't have to strain my back trying to catch a word they're saying." Keiki sassed before turning to add the sound on the TV.

"What are you doing awake already?" Bryce asked in a groggy voice.

"I could ask you the same but a slightly different question. What are you doing sleeping on the sofa? Ladybug claiming her bedroom territory?" Keiki countered before sniggering.

"Keiki, ew. But no, I couldn't sleep so I decided to take a walk, when I came back I didn't want to wake Melanie up." Bryce said before getting up.

"Aww, cute." Keiki remarked while rolling her eyes.

"Shut it, troublemaker." Bryce said before ruffling her hair.

"I'm going to wash my face, can you turn the coffee machine on for me?" He asked.

"Of course, your majesty." Keiki snarked.

Bryce pretended to ignore her remark before picking up one of the pillows laying on the floor and throwing it at her.

"Eeeee." Keiki screeched before changing bases to the sofa.

"That's what you get."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After completing his morning routine, Bryce went out to the kitchen to find Keiki and Melanie there, with the latter trying to spark a conversation.

"So how school been?" She asked.

"Fine." Keiki answered with a clipped tone.

Melanie's face fell before she cleared her throat. After a few seconds, Keiki noticed her brother standing in the door way.

"I put the coffee machine on for you." She said, her mood clearly different than earlier, before picking her mug and leaving the two to the tension she left behind.

"Good morning." Bryce greeted, going in for a kiss before being stopped by his girlfriend.

"What's her problem with me?" Melanie asked, totally ignoring his greeting.

"Mel, we talked about this already. And like I said before, this is how Keiki is." Bryce answered, slightly exasperated.

"Then how come she's different with your friends, especially Tesse." Melanie countered, her tone turning especially sour with the last word.

"Look, Keiki and Tesse are close. Tesse was there for Keiki when she first came here. I guess they bonded over time." Bryce said, shrugging his shoulders.

"And that's never going to happen with me." Melanie said, hers slumping.

"Mel.."

"No, Bryce. You don't have to try to convince me otherwise. I know I will never be able to replace Tesse." She said before leaving the kitchen.

"Shot.." Bryce cursed.

But the problem was how right she is.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

A/N: oh my god, it feels so good to finally write this part. About a month ago I tried to start in it, so I wrote the name and my note and that's it. But to see it written is so good, so I hope you enjoy<3

Tagging: @lahamseiroshoe @eleanorbloom @anotherbeingsworld @choicest @princesslahela @vamped99 @lahellacute

#the jealous one #the jealous one serie #the jealous one part 4 #bryce lahela #bryce lahela angst #bryce × mc #open heart #choices stories you play

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gustafsnightangel · 3 years ago

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 40 Pt 2

They all woke late the next morning, no one in a rush to get to school or work, no mad scramble to court, no phone calls to answer, it felt, wrong, she thought. It felt like she should be doing something other than snuggled up in Gustaf’s arms, in a cabin in the snow, without a care in the world.

“Stopthinking.” Gustaf mumbled and tucked her in closer, her giggle making him crack an eye open.

“It just feels wrong not to be up rushing around.” She said quietly.

“That’s why they call it a vacation love, it’s what you’re supposed to do, or in this case, not do.” He kissed her to stop her from talking, from thinking. Lips seductively devouring hers. “Even Lily got the memo.” He purred, the cabin was silent.

“I guess I’m still learning not to be a control freak.” She scoffed.

“It’ll get better. In a week or so you’ll be dragging your feet not wanting to leave.” He chuckled. Pressing her body against him she kissed that clever mouth, relaxing into it. “Fuck I love it when you kiss me like that.” He growled, lips teasing hers to deepen it.

“Breakfast.” She said when he let her up for air. “I need food.” Her stomach groaned in protest to make her point heard loud and clear.

“I’ll get the kids up.” He kissed her again, that relaxed smile splitting his face.

“Are you ok?” She asked him, trailing a finger down his jaw.

“I am. I can’t change what’s happened, I can’t control what she does. I’ll keep us safe, that’s my job, and that’s what I need to focus on, us, this, the kids. That’s what’s important.” He kissed her tenderly. “Are you ok?” She nodded.

“I let it get the better of me yesterday, but I’m ok. She doesn’t get to ruin this, what we have, our family.” Her hand splayed out over his chest. “I promised I’d fight for you Gustaf, for us.” He hooked a finger under her chin and tipped it up so she had no choice but to look at him.

“You do fight for us love, quite viciously.” He kissed her. “And you fight for my family, protect them as well.”

“Sometimes I feel like it’s not enough, that I can’t do enough to protect those that I love.” Her voice was quiet.

“It’s more than enough.” He smiled kindly at her. “You are enough love.” He said gently, echoing her words she’d said to him a million times. “You are enough for me.” He smiled at her soft chuckle.

“I’ve been thinking.” She blurted out.

“When are you not.” He cut in with a smirk.

“True. I’ve been thinking about making partner.” She started, and chewed on her bottom lip. He didn’t growl, just pried it from between her teeth with his thumb and kissed her slowly. It wasn’t the right time for that game.

“And?” He asked, that low tone seductive.

“I want to give it a try, I want to do it.” The hesitation in her voice gutted him, the unsureity.

“Then do it.” He said honestly.

“It’s just... it’s taking a lot on, and it’ll mean changing a few things with the kids and then you’re awa...” He kissed her, deepening it when she went to speak again.

“Do it love, take partner when they offer it to you and we’ll make the rest work. You don’t need my permission.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and watched it fall through his fingers.

“I know I don’t, but it’s a lot and I don’t think I can do it without you.” His eyes snapped to hers, his eyebrow raising slowly.

“You could, and you know you could.” He growled, and flicked her nose.

“It would kill me in the end.” She said seriously. “I’d run myself into the ground and the kids wouldn’t be as happy as they are now.”

“Probably.” He kissed her sweetly. “It worries you, the kids?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to throw more at them to adjust to. This past year has been difficult enough.”

“Take partner love, it’s what you’ve worked your ass off for. We’ll figure out a nanny and housekeeper to lighten the load, a cleaner, even when I’m home. That way we can spend more time with the kids. Whatever you need love. We’ll help them adjust, just like we’re doing now.” He would give her anything if it meant she was doing what she needed to do. He knew how important her independence was, her career, no way was he letting anything or anyone stand in her way.

“You’re sure?” She asked.

“Positive. You’re not on your own anymore and you have nothing to prove to me or anyone love. If it’s what you want to do, then do it, we’ll figure the rest out together as we go.” Her nod told him she wasn’t quite convinced. That would change with time, he’d see to it.

“Do you think Alice would come work for us full time?” She asked softly. “The kids already know her, we know her.”

“I can ask.” And if he paid her enough she’d probably jump at the chance, he thought.

“I was also thinking about my apartment.” Once she started all her thought came flooding out.

“Do you ever stop thinking?” He joked and her laugh had him grinning.

“No, I really don’t.” She chuckled at herself.

“What about your apartment love?” His fingers toying with a stray wave of burnished copper.

“I’d like to knock the wall out and merge the two. Bigger space as the kids get older, a place for them to have friends stay for sleep overs.”

“I like that.” Additional room for kids of our own, he added silently. “You want me to look into it?”

She nodded. “Yes.” Blowing a breath out he realized she was nervous. “Yes I do.”

“These are some pretty big decisions love.” He was a little shell shocked at what she’d just put in motion.

“It’s a new year, I’m starting a new page, moving forward. I’m still grieving and it hurts, but I can’t keep shoving life to the side because of it.” Her voice quiet. He kissed her sweetly.

“That’s my girl.” He murmured against his lips. “So strong.”

“I want this with you, Gustaf.” She said softly. “I want it all with you, and I need to stop holding you and our future together at arms length because of the grief.” Her statement floored him, rocked him to his soul. “It’s not fair on either of us or the kids.”

“I love you Sildie, I want this with you too.” His kiss was nothing short of toe curling. “I want everything with you.”

“Does it scare you?” She asked hesitantly.

“Fucking terrifies me.” He smiled. “But it’s real, this, what we have, is real and it terrifies me because it’s something I can lose. It’s something I can fuck up if I don’t stay on top of my shit.” And he was heartbreakingly serious. He knew he’d lose her and the kids if he let Ana or his demons get the upper hand.

“Scares me too.” She smiled and kissed him sweetly.

“We’re making it work love, in our own way, together.” He kissed her tenderly. “I’ll fight for us too, for you, for the kids.”

“Sweet man I know you will, you have already.” And he had, he’d been protecting her, fighting for her. New Year’s Eve, Elias, the car. Her stomach growled again and she giggled.

“I think we need to feed that monster before it eats you from the inside out.” He chuckled.

“I love you Gustaf.” She said gently and kissed him so his mind blanked.

“And I adore you my love. Come on, up, food, and kids, and hiking.” He kissed her quickly before ripping the covers off, jumping out of bed, and pulling on some sweats. If he stayed another moment he’d be there all day making love to her. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, but the kids would certainly get an education when they came looking for them.

She heard the soft sobs change to delighted squeals from Lily as her dad dad came and rescued her from her crib, the giggles from the boys as he roused them, he was so good for them. Sildie got breakfast started as the boys dressed, Gustaf entertaining Lily and making tea. She loved this, the mundane tasks with him beside her, they were the moments she cherished most, normal, home, a family unit. They ate together, their meal times becoming something Gustaf had grown fond of. It was the time to voice opinions, troubles, issues, work out how they were going to tackle something, or just strengthen the bond that they’d all been working hard on. Today it was all about where they were hiking to and what cookies were being packed for their picnic. Not a life or death situation, but it was all about the cookies, and to seven year old twins, that was about as life or death as it could get. Just before lunch they headed out, a short two mile hike to the lake where they could have their picnic. “We’re following the blue trail markers boys, keep the markers on your right hand side to stay on the trail.” Gustaf said as they took off at breakneck speed to explore. “They do realize there are things in these woods that will eat them.” He snarked and Sildie laughed. “They are snack size after all.”

“They make enough noise to scare anything away.” She smiled, fuck he loved that smile, carefree and happy.

“True.” He snorted. With Lily between them, a hand in each as she walked and giggled, they set off to follow the boys.

Sildie was right, they made enough noise to scare anything away and make it easier to keep track of their location. Every so often they would run back to Gustaf and tell him what they’d seen or found. Gustaf carried Lily when she started to fuss, the little lady enjoying herself perched up high in his arms pointing at everything and anything as she took in the big wide world. Her tiny hand tapping gustafs cheek as she pointed to things, chattering to him almost non stop. Sildie lagged behind to take some photos, her leggy man and Lily, the boys having an impromptu snowball fight, the vision before them as the lake came into view, family.

“Stay on the trail boys or we’ll lose you in a snow drift.” Gustaf said in that serious dad tone.

When they reached their destination they found a nice spot down by the water which was frozen solid. “Stay off the ice.” Gustaf growled as Liam went to explore. That lurch in the gut made Gustaf want to hurl, as he had a split second vision of the child falling through the ice and getting dragged under by the current. Liams foot stopped mid air with a jolt before joining its mate back on solid ground. “We’ll look at it in a bit to make sure we’re not going to fall through ok?” He softened his tone and Liam nodded coming back to their picnic blanket. Gustaf ruffled the his hair as he came to sit down beside him. “I’m not out to spoil your fun, but we don’t want you falling through the ice.” Liam nodded and hugged Gustaf.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s ok, I’m not angry, just don’t want you hurt. It would be very cold and the current would pull you under quickly.” He said gently. “We don’t want that.” Liam shook his head and hugged Gustaf tighter.

“Can we explore later?” He asked quietly, looking up at him, all wide eyed and hopeful.

“We can.” Gustaf smiled at the kid. He hadn’t meant to sound so gruff, but at least it got the kid to stop and think.

“Cool.” He chirped and hugged Gustaf tighter.

Sildie watched the interaction between them. And he says he’s not good at the dad thing, she chuckled internally. That was such a dad voice and dad thing to do, her heart swelled, that one thought circling.

“Maybe we can bring some skates next time.” Brendan said.

“There might be some in the closet back at the cabin, we can look later and come back in a few days if the weather is good.” Gustaf said taking Lily from Sildie while she got the picnic unpacked.

“I’ll look.” Brendan nodded and helped Sildie with the food.

It was one of those picture perfect days, snow and ice a blanket over the earth, blue skies and the sun smiling down, that breath of wind that kept things comfortable. After eating, trash stashed into the backpack, Sildie sat with Lily while the boys explored. She videoed them heading onto the ice, Gustaf with a twin in each hand, Brendan helping to test the ice with a stick. Gustaf had obviously done this sort of thing before and it was a good lesson for the boys. So good with them, she thought as she watched Finn slip a little and Gustaf stop him from going teeth first into the ice. That one question surfaced inside her again, did she want kids with him, did she want them at all? The panic hadn’t come with the thought this time, just a resounding calm as if she already knew the answer deep down. She smiled as her mind pictured him with their own kids, a future together where they raised a family with children that were the best parts of them. Turning the video off she blew out a breath. “I want kids with you.” She breathed, the barely there whisper screaming in her head. “A future together with a family of our own.” Looking down at Lily she smiled as the child chattered her usual mum mum mum. “God I’m such a hypocrite.” She snorted. “Before I met your dad dad I never wanted kids of my own, even taking you guys were a stretch. Now here I am sitting with my ass in the snow actually contemplating getting pregnant to a man I’ve known less than a year, but love so completely.” She lifted up a giggling Lily and kissed her neck loudly, blowing raspberries and making the the tiny girl squeal. “What’s another one huh? I’m already shackled to you four, what’s few more?” She grinned at her and snuggled her close as Lily hugged her. “I guess I need to talk to dad dad. I’m pretty sure he wants kids but we need to make sure first.” The vision of Gustaf sitting in front of the fire at their cabin, the tiny bootie in his fingers before he placed it in the flames flooded her mind. Ana and her lies aside, he’d wanted that child, devastated that it had been a fabrication. Focusing on the four figures in the distance she felt her heart explode with love. Was she seriously contemplating this? She blew out a steadying breath. “Yeah, I’m thinking it.” She muttered. “But what if he doesn’t want them, what then Lily bear? What if it causes him to spiral?” It was the one thing that shadowed her thoughts. After what Ana did to him she’d have to approach it carefully. It was a decision for them as a couple, not just her. “Dad dad dad.” She chattered. “Yeah, he makes a great dad dad doesn’t he?” She smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to ask him.” She watched as the boys started heading back toward her, those thoughts running through her mind as to how she was going to approach the subject. “Something to occupy my time over the next few days.” She snorted a sigh and grinned as the twins were slipping and sliding all over the place, their giggles echoing back to her.

Sitting with her on the blanket the boys told her about everything they saw, the pictures that Gustaf had taken, so much happiness, she thought. This was what she wanted for them. Stability, love, a man that could be there for them, family.

“Cookie time.” Gustaf said flopping down next to Sildie, those outrageously long legs folding up under him. He kissed her, that gorgeous smile plaster across his face, the calmness of a man at peace with the world around him.

“Keykey.” Lily chattered as she crawled to Gustaf, the little lady wanting her dad dad.

“Yes even for you little monster.” He chuckled and kissed her noisily. They devoured the two packets of fudge chocolate chip cookies, the hike back to the cabin would be enough to burn off the sugar high. Packing up, Gustaf pulled Sildie to him, a moment to just stop and take in the view with her. “See that little hill, all the way over the other side of the lake?” He murmured at her ear, pointing to where he was talking about.

“I see it.” She said, desire coiling in her belly at that lean body at her back.

“That’s the ridge we hiked to on our weekend away, our cabin is on the other side of it.” He kissed her temple and held her against him, breathing in her scent.

“Really?” She turned her head sharply and looked at him, surprise in her eyes.

“Really. Over there for adult time, over here for family time.” He kissed her tenderly.

“Oh I do like the sound of that.” She sighed as the residual tension in her body relaxed.

She heard the giggles a split second before Gustaf froze, his body going stiff as a board. “Excuse me a moment love, I have to go bury a few kids in a snow drift. Be right back.” He grinned against her neck, kissing her just below her ear before pulling away and chasing the boys. They’d thrown a snowball at him and it had gone down the inside of his jacket. She knew she should stop them for fear of them catching a chill, but she couldn’t, the laughter and smiles would be worth the head cold. He got them back in turn, his snowballs significantly larger than theirs, grins just as big. Even Lily got in on the action, running up to each of her brothers and tossing handfuls of snow at them, giggling and squealing as they tossed tiny bits of snow back at her. Setting out for the cabin he walked with the boys as Sildie walked with Lily, the bonding time important for them. Lily was determined to walk and Sildie felt like she was half dragging the poor child. Eventually she wanted up, her little legs all tuckered out and soon she was snuggled against Sildie’s shoulder half passed out, half chattering to her mum mum.

Gustaf took a deep breath as he walked with the boys, the ease of their conversation settling his nerves. There was a question he needed to ask them, one that had been circling his head for a while and he needed to know where he stood. “Hey boys can I ask you something? Get your thoughts?” He said softly, he didn’t want his voice to carry back to Sildie.

“Are we in trouble?” Finn asked as the twins looked at each other and then at Gustaf.

“No.” He chuckled, ruffling the kids hair. “You’re not in trouble, I just needed to ask you something that I’ve been thinking about. Get your input.” Damn he was so fucking nervous.

“Why?” Liam asked somewhat baffled that an adult would be asking for their opinion about anything important.

“Because we’re a family.” Brendan said softly, and Gustaf could see the touch of grief in his eyes as the teen looked at him.

“That’s exactly why.” Gustaf murmured. “We are a family, and good or bad, your thoughts and opinions matter to me. It’s important.” He took a steadying breath and continued. “You know that I love you guys, Lily too, like you were my own kids. And you know I love Sildie, that we’ve been working together to make us as close to a family unit as we can.” All three glanced at him slightly confused as they kept walking. “I love what we have, the family we have become, and I would like to take it a step further and ask Sildie to marry me, but I need to know how the three of you would feel about that?” He said carefully.

“Like our mum and dad were?” Liam asked and it broke Gustaf heart to hear that longing in the child’s tone.

“Yes, like your mum and dad were.” He said gently, his soul ached for them. This had to drag up the grief and he felt sick for asking, but he wasn’t going to be that guy, the one that just did whatever he wanted regardless of how the kids felt. They needed to have their voices heard, their emotions and feeling taken into consideration. Marrying Sildie meant marrying all five of them, this affected them too and they had to be ok with it.

“Does that mean you’d be our dad forever?” Finn asked tentatively.

Gustaf couldn’t help the smile, the way a child’s mind worked still amazed him. “If that’s what you want me to be, then yes. If you want it to stay as it is, that’s fine too.” He paused and looked at Brendan, the teen deep in thought. He knew where this conversation was going to go, something else Gustaf was nervous about. “You don’t have to give me an answer today, but I’d like you to think about it.”

“Would we have to change our last name?” Brendan asked quietly.

“No.” Gustaf said shaking his head. “Sildie doesn’t have to change her name if she chooses not to. That will be her decision.”

“But don’t we have to if you two get married?” He asked, brow creasing. “Mum and dad were married so we have their last name. If you marry aunt Sildie then we’d have to take your name right?”

“It wouldn’t work that way for us B. If Sildie and I were to get married she can choose to take my last name, hyphenate it, or keep it as O’Rourke. If we were to have children of our own they would have my last name or the hyphenated name on their birth certificate. The only way the four of you could take my last name or hyphenate it, is if you choose to legally change it when you turn eighteen.” He watched Brendan carefully as he spoke again. “Or I adopt you. And even then, it’s your choice.” These were tricky questions and he wasn’t sure if he was just shooting himself in the foot with it all. “A choice and decision I won’t force on any of you.”

“Do you want to adopt us?” Brendan asked, the words more a mumble as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask or know the answer.

��Only if that’s something the four of you want. I won’t push B.” Gustaf said gently.

“But is that what you want?” He asked a little more forcefully. The kid had some balls when it mattered. He was thinking long term and how it would affect them all.

“The short answer, yes.” He wasn’t going to fuck around with this. Brendan needed a straight up answer to know where he stood. “Yes, I want to marry Sildie and adopt all four of you. But it’s not as cut and dry as all that. Legally, Sildie is your guardian and responsible for you until you’re eighteen. I’m not sure how it all works and it’s something we’d all have to discuss as a family before we started to actually do anything along those lines. Ultimately Brendan that decision is Sildie’s. Until you’re eighteen, what she says, goes, in the legal guardian department.” He let the quiet take them a few more steps before continuing. “Anyway, that’s what I’d like to do, but it’s not about what I want, you all have a say in this, Sildie too. Because I also understand that it might feel like you’re betraying your father, forgetting him, or replacing him. I love you guys and want to be as much of a dad like person to you as you’ll allow me to be. But if what we have now is the absolute limit, then I’m ok with that. If you’d like me to adopt you then I’m ok with that too.” Gustaf watched the teens shoulders relax. “Think about it, there’s no rush. Think about whether it’s something you’d want and would be comfortable with. I won’t push or force it and I won’t bring it up again unless you guys want to talk about it, ok?”

“I’d like it if you were to marry mum, she needs you, we need you.” Brendan nodded and glanced at Gustaf. “And you need her. You’re happier with her. But the whole adoption thing, I need to think about.” The teen said quietly, his thought process much like Sildie’s. Gustaf knew the kid was conflicted. “I just don’t know.”

“That’s all I’m asking B.” He smiled, gaze flicking to the kid.

“We want you to marry mum too.” Finn said in a hushed whisper.

“I don’t know if want to change my name.” Liam mumbled, he said it so quietly that Gustaf almost missed it.

“And that’s ok, Liam.” Gustaf said gently and saw the more outspoken twin relax.

“But I’ll think about it.” He added, jumping around kicking snow.

“When are you going to ask her?” Brendan asked.

“I don’t know yet, I wanted to be sure you boys were ok with the idea first.” Gustaf said quietly.

“Were ok with it.” Finn grinned.

“Then I guess I need to make proposal plans.” He chuckled.

“Can we help?” Liam asked.

“Sure, but we have to keep this strictly between us men.” Gustaf said seriously. “I may need you guys to run interference so she doesn’t figure it out. Keeping it from her won’t be easy.”

“You do know she hates surprises.” Brendan chuckled. “And keeping anything from her is a bad idea. You do know she’s a lawyer, she’ll sniff out anything not legit.”

“I know.” Gustaf grinned. “But it’ll be a fun ride.”

“You’re crazy.” The teen laughed.

“A little.” Gustaf smiled wide, this had gone much better than he could have ever hoped for.

By the time they arrived back at the cabin all four kids were ready for pajamas, food, and quiet time.

“Go be with the boys I’ll get Lily down.” Sildie said softly as Gustaf helped her get her boots off with an almost asleep Lily in her arms.

“Night Lily bear.” He said kissing her head, the stroke of her hair making her eyes droop even further. “I’ll get a bottle for her.”

It wasn’t late, but the fresh air and sunshine and the physical activity had wiped the kids out. Good, she thought as she sat Lily down and undressed her, they’d had such a good time and it was only day one.

“Dad dad dad.” She sobbed as Sildie snuggled her in all dry and warm.

“He’s coming sweet girl.” She soothed, rocking her from side to side to get her back into sleep mode. There were times where she would have freaked out at holding a child let alone sooth one to sleep, now it was just second nature. “Maybe I can do this.” She whispered, her lips against Lily’s head lightly kissing her. “You’ll have to help me Lily.” She smiled.

And then there he was, all 6’4” of him framed in the doorway like the Viking god he was, damn she was so gone over him. So deeply, so completely in love with him, with every fiber of her being.

His heart almost stopped at the sight of her soothing Lily, damn he wanted kids with her, their own kids. He loved the boys, adored Lily, but he craved children of their own, a part of him, a part of Sildie.

Moving to her quietly he brushed a finger down her cheek before kissing her sweetly, gently rocking with her so he could hold them both close to him. “My two best girls.” He murmured, the soft dad dad of a nearly asleep child making him smile. “Want me to take her?”

“I think she wants you anyway.” She chuckled as she handed Lily over, her tiny hand scrunching in Gustaf shirt. “She’s ruined you for all other women.” She snorted.

“No, you did that all on your own love.” He quipped and kissed her, the slow smoldering kiss that had her nearly begging for more. “You’re the only woman for me.” He growled, desire shooting straight to her core. “The only one I want.” He kissed her again and lingered, tongue teasing, his arousal spiking through his system.

“You’ll have to show me how much you want me later.” She purred, her lips ghosting his as Lily fussed wanting her bottle and her dad dads full attention.

“Count on it kitten.” He devoured her mouth before pulling back with a chuckle as she stared at him stunned.

“That’s illegal.” She breathed. “You can’t kiss me like that.”

“Can, and will do it again, repeatedly. I might show you a few other illegal things later.” He pecked her cheek. “Brendan’s starting dinner.”

“I’ll go supervise.” Walking out of the room she stopped at the doorway and watched him feed Lily her bottle, soothe her in that low timbre she adored. Yes, she thought with a little more conviction, I want kids with you.

She came into the kitchen to find the twins helping out by setting the table and Brendan stirring the pasta sauce. “That smells really good, as always. Need any help?”

“Nope I got it.” Brendan grinned, the kid was at home in the kitchen and happy, so very happy. She’d not seen that smile in over a year.

“You boys have fun today?” There was a chorus of yes.

“The lake was awesome, I hope we can go down and skate later.” The teen said as he put the water on for the pasta to boil.

“But I don’t know how to skate.” Finn said and Liam nodded.

“That’s ok I’ll teach you.” It was the nonchalant shrug of his shoulders that made Sildie tear up. He could have bitched and moaned about having to teach his younger brothers to skate, taking time away from his own ice time, but he didn’t. Such a sweet soul, she thought.

“Really?” Finns face lit up.

“Sure, be ready for a sore butt though. You’re gonna fall over more than skate until you get the hang of it.” Brendan chuckled at remembering his first time on a pair of skates.

“Can you skate mum?” Liam asked, the endearment catching her off guard for a split second. She still wasn’t used to it.

“I can, it’s been a long time though. My butt will probably be sore too.” She scoffed.

“That’s ok I’ll kiss it better.” Gustaf murmured at her ear as he wrapped an arm around her waist holding her close.

“I bet you will.” Her voice thick with sarcasm.

Brendan served dinner and they sat around the large dining table to eat, talking of the day and what they were going to do tomorrow. With the building of a snow fort decided, Gustaf found some ice cream and dished out three scoops each, watching the boys eyes go wide before they devoured it. It wasn’t long before the twins were yawning, Brendan a little beat too.

Gustaf read to them by the fire again, the sound of his voice soothing not only the kids, but Sildie as she took care of the dishes and secretly filmed their story time. He would need these moments to look back on when he was away. And that was something she was dreading, twelve lonely weeks without him beside her would feel like an eternity.

She’s been so wrapped up in her thoughts she only realized he was behind her when those talented hands found her hips, the tender kiss to her temple.

“Leave them.” He murmured. “And dance with me.”

As she dried her hands and turned she could hear the jazz whispering around the cabin. She’s been so zoned out in her own head she hadn’t heard him put it on. Stepping into him as his arms held her to him she saw the boys reading, content and happy. Swaying to the soft tune she lost herself in the moment of just the two of them. A moment where they were both at peace, no outside stressors, just the love between them.

“How did I get so lucky to be with you?” He asked, the tenderness in his voice soothing her soul.

“I think it’s us who are the lucky ones.” Her gaze met his, ocean blue looking back before she kissed him with a love so deep he thought he’d drown in it.

“I’m so in love with you Sildie.” He whispered.

They both stopped as a pair of arms circled around them, Brendan hugging them both. The grip the teen had on Gustaf told him the kid wasn’t doing ok. The soft sob a moment later confirmed it.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, trying to reign in his emotions.

“B, honey what’s wrong?” Sildie said gently. Gustaf went to pull away to give them room but she held him there. “Talk to me love.” She murmured and held him to her, an arm wrapped around both Gustaf and Brendan.

“I’m happy. You’re here with Gustaf, and we have a family and I’m happy but I’m sad too.” He sobbed. “It’s not fair because I want mum and dad, but if they were still here we wouldn’t be here with you. And then I feel bad because I’m happy with you and I shouldn’t be wanting mum and dad now. And then I’m angry because they left us. They didn’t fight to stay here. They just left.”

Gustaf wrapped both Brendan and Sildie up in his arms, effectively sandwiching the kid between them. He felt like an ass. Had this been because of their discussion earlier today? Had he set the kid up to spiral? His mind reeled as Sildie talked to Brendan. How did he make this better?

“You’re right B, they left, and you have every right to be angry at them for leaving. But they fought honey. They fought so hard to stay here.” She said as her fingers smoothed his hair. “Your mum fought to hold on so Lily could live.”

He heard Sildie’s voice break and that alone killed a piece of him inside.

“But sometimes the body is so damaged it can’t be fixed or fix itself love.” Gustaf heard the tears in her voice and kissed her temple, lingering, trying to offer any comfort to the two of them that he possessed.

“They loved you Brendan, so much, and you’re right it really isn’t fair.” Her heart was breaking for him.

“I just don’t know how to feel sometimes.” Brendan mumbled, tears streaking his cheeks.

“You’re torn between the love for your mum and dad, and the love for the family we are trying to become.” Gustaf said gently and Brendan nodded. “It’s ok not to know how to feel about it. It’s ok to miss them, to be angry at them, to want them here instead of us.” Brendan looked at Gustaf wide eyed. “It’s ok B. They were your parents, it’s normal to want them to be here over me and Sildie.”

“You’re not mad?” The teen asked in a whisper so soft Gustaf barely heard him, as if the teen didn’t want to voice the question.

“No B, I’m not mad. You’re always going to want them over us, it’s normal and I doubt it will change. We just want to give you the best and closest thing to a family as we can. The only thing that matters is that you’re all safe, happy, and loved. The rest of it we can figure out as we go along.”

“I’m sorry.” Brendan said again sniffing. “I kinda ruined tonight.”

“You ruined nothing love.” Sildie said softly, and kissed his forehead as he hugged her tighter. “We are a family and this is what a family does. We cry, we talk, we figure it out, together.”

“Love you.” He mumbled into her shoulder and Sildie felt him relax.

“I love you too. So much honey.” Sildie said and looked up at Gustaf, the overwhelming comfort she felt from him wrapping around them. His fingers drawing patterns on her lower back to ease the tension she felt, keeping her anxiety and panic leveled. The soft kiss to her forehead reassuring her that they were ok and to roll with it.

“Shall we make some hot chocolate? Pancakes? Because let’s face it, Gustaf’s pancakes make everything better.” She smiled at Brendan as wiped the tears away with her thumb before kissing his brow.

“Pancakes.” The kid nodded.

“Well I guess I’ve been voluntold.” Gustaf quipped and Brendan grinned swiping the tears away and pulling himself together.

“I’ll help.”

“Come on then.” He kissed Sildie’s cheek and lingered, gauging whether she needed a moment or not. “Breathe love.” He murmured and heard the shuddered breath out. “It’s all ok. Just breathe for me ok?”

Her kiss was chaste, the thank you evident in it’s harsh contact. Emphasized by her thumb brushing his crows feet. Lines she adored, that comforted her.

They ate pancakes in front of the fire, the twins curling up with Brendan sensing he needed his siblings. That familiarity of a family broken and long gone, yet a new one forging a closer bond with each day.

Finally with the kids in bed she took a shower, his hands finding her hips shortly after she’d stepped in. Strong fingers wandered the silky skin of her hips, up her torso to cup her breasts, mouth plundering the nape of her neck. He had a hunger for her tonight that needed to be fed. “My Sildie.” He sighed as her head rested back against his shoulder, she was wrung out from the emotional upheaval from earlier.

Her hands reached behind her for his hips, those thighs.

“I want you, every second of every day I want you around me.” He turned her gently before diving his hands into her hair and feasting on her mouth, passion and desire flooded her system as he took what he wanted and gave her everything of himself.

“The water’s not going to stay hot for long enough.” She breathed, slightly unsteady as he let her up for air. Not only would they run out of hot water, the shower was only just big enough for them to stand in and turn around, not really made with water sports in mind. With a silent gentle kiss he soaped the cloth and washed her, tended the body he was about to ravage. As she turned to rinse off he washed quickly, the water already starting to cool.

“Good call on the water.” He chuckled, bundling her into a fluffy towel and holding her to him, the soft kiss stealing her thoughts.

“Yeah I noticed yesterday when I took a bath. Got it about three quarters full and then it started to cool.” She stared up at those dusty blue eyes, the twinkle held such mischief.

“I’ve spoiled you at home.” He grinned, resting his forehead against hers.

“You have.” She snorted as she turned away to clean her teeth.

“Get into bed I’ll be there shortly.” Kissing the dip at her neck as she finished brushing. “This bathroom isn’t big enough for the two of us to be in at the same time.” He watched her go, the deliberate sway of those hips mesmerizing and making his cock twitch.

She was curled up in the middle of the bed by the time he’d finished in the bathroom and turned the lights off for the evening. Tossing another log on the fire he curled up spooned behind her.

That one finger hooked the sheet at her shoulder and tugged it down her body slowly, igniting an inferno along her skin where it touched. She felt him hard against her ass already, his thickness nestled between her cheeks. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t crave every inch of you.” He murmured. “To touch you, kiss you, claim you.” He knew what those words did to her, the way it made her wet, turned her on. “I daydream about tying you up and taking you how I want.” His teeth grazed the sensitive curve at her neck which sent a shiver down her spine. “Give yourself to me.” He whispered as he nipped her earlobe. “Let me have you, take you. Let me free you.” He knew what she needed tonight after what Brendan had said. That release he knew he could give her, mental, physical, and emotional freedom.

“Always.” She sighed as those magic hands of his seduced her. Shifting his arm around her he rolled so she was laying on top, her spine pressed against his chest. Large hands gripped her hips and positioned her where he wanted her. Those sinful hands coasted up her abdomen, over her breasts and along her arms to take a hold of her wrists. Bringing them up over her head, he bound them, the soft silk rope kissing her skin arousing her further.

“You like that kitten?” He growled before tucking her hands under his neck, forcing her chest forward.

“Yes.” Her breath hitched as she moved them.

“Too tight? Hurting your bruise?” He still felt that rage simmering deep inside him at the man that had put a mark on her.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Relax your shoulders.” He purred, his fingers easing along her arms, reassuring, guiding. “Better?”

“Yes.” She gasped as he pinched her nipples, gently at first, then a harder pinch and tug sending a shot of pleasure to her clit.

Trailing fingers down her ribs he raised his knees between her legs gently forcing them open. Gripping her thighs he pulled her legs up so her feet were flat on the mattress, hips splayed wide. “Shall I fuck you like this kitten?” He murmured, nipping her shoulder playfully, his fingers dancing along her inner thighs. “Bring your legs up and rest your feet on my thighs. I want you spread wide for me.” His growl was guttural as he gripped her behind the knees gently, guiding her to where he wanted her. “Relax them open.” He purred, hands pressing her inner thighs down, opening them as far as her body would allow. The soft whimper she made had his cock throbbing, those beautiful sounds stirring his arousal. From there she was at his mercy, his to pleasure, his to take what he wanted, when he wanted. “God you’re beautiful like this, all laid out for me.” He breathed as he looked down her body, poised for him to devour. Hands cupped her breasts roughly, skating that fine line between pleasure and actual pain as he pinched her nipples, toyed with her mercilessly. “You’ll have to be quiet kitten, there’s no soundproofing on this place.” She heard the smirk in his tone, felt the smile against her shoulder as he nipped and sucked.

He took his time building her pleasure, touching her everywhere except where she desperately needed. She was practically dripping for him when his hand gripped her throat to gently cradle it where he wanted it, his lips brushing a kiss to her temple. “So wet for me kitten.” He purred as he slipped a finger through her wet heat, that soft gasp making him growl and bite down on her shoulder. Circling her clit those sounds tumbled from her lips as she fought not to come, his fingers stopping as she peaked. That soft whimper making him rock hard. He brought her to the edge of release for what felt like hours, her body desperate to feel him take her. Flexing his hips he reached between their legs and slipped his engorged head over her silken folds, the mushroom tip resting at her entrance flaring it open ready for him. Running both hands up the backs of her thighs from ass to knee he gripped her behind the knees and pulled them up and out to the side. Bound open for him ready to take. “This is the best part about fucking you kitten, the first time I sink into you, the first time I feel you grip me.” He inched into her slowly as he spoke. “The way I fill you.” He groaned and bit her shoulder as he bottomed out. “The way you take all of me.” Her moan was nothing short of a sweet symphony as he stretched her.

Keeping her in that position he began to take her, slow deliberate thrusts in and out, her whimpers turning to quiet cries as she crested. “That’s it kitten, let it claim you.” He kissed her neck, nipping her ear lobe. “Come for me, let me feel you.” He growled as she tensed, the massive release about to tear her apart.

It ripped through her like wildfire, scorching every nerve ending, exploding every brain cell, the barely there cry of his endearment bringing a grin to his face. He didn’t wait for her to recover, placing her feet back on his thighs he widened his feet and pistoned his hips, driving into her deeply. With a hand gripping her throat and one poised at her mound he brought her undone.

Her orgasm was earth shattering, what he was doing to her now, mind blowing bordering on obliteration. Cock pounding into her, hitting all those secret places inside her only he could reach. Hand at her throat, the gentle squeeze heightening her pleasure, and that hand, she knew those clever fingers would dance over her clit at some point and completely destroy her. She gave herself to him, mind, body, and soul. His grunts as he pleasured her, the groans as he found his own, sweet music only for her. His finger slipped over her clit and circled slowly, her body arching at the sensation, muscles straining. Gripping her throat tightly he tipped her over the edge, her climax swamping her. He fucked her deeply as he rode her through it before slowing to a stop.

Guiding her feet to the mattress and bringing her hands down from their position above her head he massaged the stiffness from her shoulders. “On your knees kitten, grip the headboard. I want you hard.” He purred, tender hands guiding her to her knees. Turning her head to face him he kissed her tenderly, always assessing if she was up for it, never wanting to push her too far. She nibbled her bottom lip and he snarled before crushing her mouth with his. “That’s a dangerous game to play kitten when you’re all tied up.”

She hooked her bound hands over his head and pulled him closer for a kiss. “Then why don’t you punish me.” And she bit her lip again to emphasize the point. Fuck he’d put her in a mood and wanted him to spank her. But not here, no, he wanted her at home where she could scream.

Fingers found her chin, the grip firm as he devoured her mouth, gaze assessing, sensing. Gently fisting a hand in her hair he rose up on his knees, his presence dominating and powerful. “So beautiful kitten, but I’ll save the punishment until we get home to our bed.” He purred, lips ghosting hers. “I want you bound and screaming when I spank you.” That soft whimper made him smile. “Hands on the headboard.” He commanded softly, releasing her hair and helping her into the position he wanted her in. “Bend over.” He growled and pulled back, fingers guiding. Leaning over her he caged her in, his hands either side of hers on the headboard. “Love, your curves are something a man would die for.” He murmured, and sat back on his knees raking his fingers down her arms and along the length of her spine, the ripple of arousal at his words skittering over her skin. Her belly was fluttering with anticipation, pussy gushing. Pressing a kiss to each ass cheek he rose up on his knees, stroked a hand up her spine and fisted it in her hair, tugging back until he could see her face, then devoured her mouth thoroughly.

“Do you want to feel what your curves do to me kitten?” His cock was throbbing to be inside her. “How hard they makes me when you swing your hips.”

“Please daddy.” She whimpered, the thought of him taking her like this almost making her drool. She loved this position and when he took her hard.

Pressing his pelvis to her slick heat she whimpered at the contact. She was soaked, his cock sliding along her folds as he continued to erotically torture her. “Do you feel that kitten.” He growled. “Every curve, every look, every kiss, makes me hard, make me think of nothing else but fucking you.” As his mouth came in contact with hers he snapped his hips and filled her in one brutal thrust.

Her orgasm threatened to shatter her, hovering, waiting, and it wasn’t lost on Gustaf.

“That’s it kitten.” He purred. “You’re going to come so hard on my cock, feel every inch of me.” His knees urged her to widen hers as he adjusted his stance and plunged into her again, the fullness of him causing that beautiful whimper to fall from her mouth.

He wasn’t gentle, each thrust deep and powerful, filling her so completely, sending shockwave after shockwave of erotic pleasure through her. She was teetering on the edge, her system going into sensory overload as he thrust in deep. The pleasure was too great to hold back and she came hard, body writhing as he rode her. With a hand still fisted in her hair he slammed into her, hips pistoning. He let his own need come to the surface, to take what he wanted , give what she needed.

Her build to release was quicker this time, system already primed for whatever he was yet to give her. She was bordering on delirium as she peaked.

So beautiful as he fucked her, that gorgeous body all his to pleasure. He let the primal animal in him take over, the need to claim her, dominate her, possess her. She came hard, her pussy gripping him deliciously tight, and he lost himself to the feel of her. He took her roughly, sating his need to claim her. After another three orgasms he gripped her throat as he pounded into her, brutal thrusts deeply fucking her, those sweet sounds urging him to take more. He felt her release peak and drank in the sight before him. What a vision, he thought as he rode her. Hands bound, on her knees, hand fisted in her halo of molten copper, fingers around the column of her throat, riding her hard. A vision of erotic perfection. He tensed, felt them both teeter. Her scream was ragged, his roar much the same as their release consumed them both. “Fuck kitten.” He groaned and pistoned his hips faster, the extra friction prolonging their ecstasy. Spent and sated he stilled, leaning over her he gripped the headboard and nuzzled her neck, chest heaving as he forced oxygen into his lungs.

“Mine.” He growled, his possessive tone sending a warm fuzzy feeling through her. It was never possessive in the sense of actual ownership, she was his, by her own choice, as he was hers.

She couldn’t move for fear of disintegrating into nothing. Quick fingers untied the red silk cord from her wrists, the uncontrollable tremble shuddering through her body as he gathered her into his arms and sat back bringing her with him. Holding her gently he brought her wrists to his lips and kissed them tenderly, her brain trying to process what he’d just done to her.

“You ok love?” He asked, his voice a little distant. It took her a moment to decipher what he’d asked, was she ok? She felt fucking wonderful, body blissed out and lax, mind much the same. “I need to hear it kitten.” He said gently as she nodded.

“I’m ok. Can’t...” Words, he’d completely robbed her of the ability to think and speak.

“Can’t what kitten?” He smirked, kissing her neck as her head thudded back against his shoulder.

“Can’t think.” She mumbled, her breathing only now starting to level out, her mind already drifting into the realm of sleep.

“Good, you’re not supposed to.” His hands roamed, tender strokes to soothe her body, bring it back down from the high they were on. “Did I hurt you?” He asked gently.

“No.” Her voice still distant. “You haven’t asked that in a while.” She said softly.

“Sometimes I feel I need to, just to be sure.” He kissed her temple and helped her to stretch out, the slight hiss at stiff joints something he’d fix in a moment. “I’ll be right back ok?”

“Ok.” She sighed.

He grinned as he pulled on his sweats and went to the bathroom for the massage oil, she’d be asleep by the time he got back.

She’d never felt this good, this relaxed, this satisfied, this free, until she met Gustaf. He knew what she needed. “Thoroughly fucked.” She sighed to herself, and giggled.

Shucking the sweats and crawling in beside her, he started to work the muscles of her shoulder. First one then the other. “Better?”

“Much.” She sighed as his touch soothed her.

“That relaxed you.” His comment soft, lips ghosting hers.

“It did.” She nipped his bottom lip, fingers toying with his scruff. “It’s liberating.” Her simple statement had him looking at her. “I know I have the control to stop it if needed, but there’s something about relinquishing that control to you.” Her eyes searched his. “It’s like for one moment in time I don’t have to be responsible for anything, including myself.” Her kiss floored him as much as her words. “And I like it when you lose control too, take what you need, find the release, the peace it gives you.”

“I’ve only been able to do that with you love. You’re the only one I’ve felt comfortable enough with, knowing I can.”

“Same here. Mutually beneficial.” She smirked.

“Indeed.” His chuckle made her smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, and I love this, what we have.” He kissed her tenderly.

“So do I.”

He snuggled up with her, slender fingers drawing patterns on his chest as his played with her hair.

“Are you ok after what Brendan said?” She asked sleepily.

“More than ok. I’ve been waiting for him to implode for a while.” And he still felt gutted that his conversation earlier in the day may have brought it all to the surface.

“He loves you Gustaf, he’s just torn. I think we all are in our own way.”

“I know.” He kissed her hair and breathed her in, instant calm. He wished he could bottle it. “I know he does. My soul just, hurts for them. For you.”

She moved so she could look at that face carved by Viking gods, and kissed him tenderly. “My sweet man. You never ceases to amaze me.” If the man could blush he would have. “I know that embarrasses you, but you are one of a kind love, they broke the mold with you.”

“I’m only doing what I should be doing.” He mumbled.

“No love, you’re going well beyond that. It’s takes a certain kind of man to accept children that aren’t his flesh and blood as his own. There aren’t many like you left in the world.”

“You’re a package deal Sildie. All five of you or not at all. I’m all in love, have been from day one.”

“It’s why I love you.” She said smiling. “Well that and the mind blowing sex.”

“Added bonus.”

“Indeed.” She snorted. “I need to pee.” She yawned and he reluctantly let her go so she could take care of business.

With Sildie curled into him, he held onto her as she slept. The need to have her close overwhelming. His thoughts wandered to Brendan and he knew he’d need to talk with the kid some more over the next few days. He was glad the teen had finally opened up and hoped Brendan and the twins would come to him if they needed to talk.

“I’ll be asking you soon.” He whispered into her hair. “Before I go away.” He would not leave it fester this time, the words would come easily, because this time she knew he loved her. “Before I leave for Ireland, I’ll be asking you.”

Eventually he succumb to sleep, the activity of the night finally shedding the remaining stress of the past week. Their vacation had well and truly begun.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

#gustaf skarsgard #shattered lives #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction

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blessed-but-distressed · 4 years ago

Text

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

***

also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me!

***

Killian

How do you feel about improv? ES

Trepidatious. KJ

What if I told you some random just gave me last minute tickets to a Jane Austen inspired improv drag show, and I have a spare? ES

Curiosity alone compels me to say yes. Pleasance? KJ

George Square. ES

Thank fuck. I forgot my umbrella. KJ

If Killian had any sense, he'd approach the month of August the same way Robin did every year. Which mostly amounted to renting his house out to a troupe of Hungarian acrobats for extortionate sums of money and taking off for the south of France, thus avoiding the whole sorry spectacle.

A privilege reserved for those not living out of their older brother's spare room. Nor stuck writing Fringe reviews for his ailing periodical.

He thought his latest was his best yet.

Do you value your time? Your money? Your life? Then walk, don't run, as far from this act as you can. No one this incompetent should be wielding chainsaws, let alone juggling them. I may have been the only one-handed man at the preview, but with this shambolic spectacle set to run for the rest of the week, I expect I won't be the last. 0 stars.

Liam had accused him of being deliberately cruel, but he hadn't seen the show firsthand. The phrase 'culpable and reckless conduct' came to mind. His review went up online, unchallenged.

To his great surprise, his favourite show so far had been the improv show Emma had dragged him along to. It had all the subtle snark and invariable romance of Austen's classic novels, with the added benefit of Emma nearly passing out from laughing so hard. That alone would have justified his five star review, but the cherry on the cake had been when the man dressed as the elderley Dowager had picked August out from the crowd, and made him part of the act.

Killian generally condemned the casual cruelty of audience participation. Indeed, he lived in constant fear of it at every show he reviewed. But when it came for a certain novelist, he found his views on the matter suddenly rather... fluid.

Try as he might, he couldn't see what Emma saw in the man. What hidden virtues he possessed that had provoked such a ferocious loyalty. Killian wasn't stupid enough to voice such thoughts, of course, but that hadn't stopped him trying to figure it out.

The opportunity to continue this study was surely the only reason he'd opened an unsolicited DM from the man himself, when he should have been watching a Swedish comedy troupe send up classic films in a series of skits.

We have a mutual friend in need. How's your schedule looking uhhh… now?

Killian looked back to the stage. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the red streamers might signify blood. They were either up to Carrie or Jaws.

Trouble? Killian typed back.

Emma. The next message read.

We're in a bar in Leith and things have gotten a little… messy.

Killian checked the time. Barely past one in the afternoon. And fucking Leith? That didn't bode well. But at the same time, his review of the show was supposed to be online within the hour.

With a growing sense of unease, he typed out his reply. Which pub?

***

Stepping into The Marksman on Duke Street was not unlike stepping back in time. More precisely, to somewhere smack dab in middle of the Thatcher era, when Leith was a byword for deprivation and whatever comes after heroin chic. It was charmless, grimy and depressing, and Killian might've never understood the appeal until he caught the sign in the window. It opened at 6am.

Trying to avoid the abject stares of the locals, Killian found his quarry sat at the end of the bar on mismatching stools. Emma slumped forward, her face hidden, but August turned around swiftly at his approach, the alarm in his eyes quickly giving way to recognition.

"Oh thank god." August swept off his barstool, his relief so palpable that Killian thought he might hug him. He didn't look well. Thoroughly debauched, if one might say so, and in desperate need of a bath.

"Nice place," Killian remarked drily. "A bit off the beaten path…"

August pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. Or… wearier. "It's been a long night. And morning." He glanced back to where Emma sat propped by the bar, apparently still completely unaware of his absence, and drew closer, his voice lowering.

"You know that Graham guy?"

Killian couldn't explain it, but something inside his chest caught. Like flint striking steel. "Aye," he growled, not liking where this was headed.

"Married," August supplied, without preamble. "She didn't know. No one knew. She ran into them holding hands in the Tron. Matching wedding bands. The whole bit. So she threw her beer in his face and called it a day, right? But this morning, no, yesterday morning, the wife showed up. At the apartment. Emma's apartment."

Killian's fist clenched by his side.

"Yeeaah. It got pretty heated. Long story short, it's been a day and a half. I don't even remember how we got here. I'm not sure I even know exactly where here is. I have to be on a train at 4 to King's Cross or my publisher is going to sue my ass. Now, I can trust you? To get her home safely? You look at her like you're half a drink away from belting out Jessie's Girl at any given moment. I didn't imagine that, did I?"

Of all the places to grudgingly admit his feelings, not least in confidence to this man he wasn't sure he even liked, The Marksman was not the venue he would have chosen. And yet.

"There's very little I wouldn't do for that woman."

He was caught by surprise when the man launched forward and kissed him on the cheek, more still when he went back for the other cheek. August grinned enormously, grasping Killian by the shoulders. "Welcome to the family! Please don't fuck it up." And then consulting his phone, "I really need to go."

August made short work of the rest of his goodbyes, pulling Emma into fierce hug from behind, whispering something into her ear as he let her go. Then, with a wink in Killian's direction and a kiss blown at the nearest crusty Leither, he picked up his messenger bag and fled onto the street.

Steeling himself after that prologue, Killian turned back to where Emma sat by the bar, unseeing reddened eyes peeking out from under a tangle of blonde hair. He pulled out August's vacated stool, and took a seat.

"Swan," he began, with an imaginary tip of his cap.

"Jones," she replied, her voice flatter than he'd ever heard it.

"Of all the gin joints…"

She grimaced. Though her frown was so pronounced already, it didn't make much of a change. "We don't talk about the gin."

"At least tell me it was the good stuff."

She tried to smile, but the action seemed to cause her pain. "Don't do that. Don't be nice to me right now."

"Why not? You're not the villain in this story."

A small noise escaped her, half laugh, half sob. "Sure feels like it."

"No, that's the supermarket gin talking. We've talked about this. Nothing good ever came from a clear spirit at 35p a measure."

She sank further forward in her seat, her forehead resting against the bar top. "Don't be cute. Please just leave me alone to die," she mumbled.

He couldn't resist tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, making sure she could see him. "I'm not going to do that. I have a duty of care."

"Why? Because you'd have to find someone else to write a column about?"

"No," he replied levelly. "Because you're my best friend."

That had her lifting her head off the bar, albeit wincing as she did so. "I thought Robin was your best friend?"

He tapped his chin. "No, it's definitely you."

She considered that. Though how much of her internal brain processes had survived the pickling process over the last 24 hours, Killian couldn't be certain.

Of course, it was at that moment their bartender appeared, a middle aged woman with an ill-fitting polo shirt and bright green acrylic nails she drummed against the bar top. "Another top up, hen?" She didn't even glance at Killian.

He put his hand over Emma's glass. "Actually, I'm afraid we're on our way out."

Their server didn't much like that, a hand finding her hip. "Well that's up for the lass to decide, no?"

"It's okay, Tracy," Emma said, managing a consoling smile. "He's a friend. Are we all settled up?"

"We are." She gave Killian a cool once over. "Friend, you say? Mind you keep it that way. Looks like nothing but trouble to me. And you still raw after the last one. Liars and cheats, the lot of them."

Killian thought to take offence, but Emma already had him by the arm, pulling him off his stool. "Thanks, Tracy. Can you call me a cab?"

***

Getting her into the cab took some doing, not least because she had to pause twice to throw up in the gutter, and the first guy had driven off. Fair play to him. Thankfully by the time the second cab arrived Emma's stomach had settled, and she spent the drive curled harmlessly against Killian's side.

"Your lassie alright?" the cabbie asked, as Killian half lifted, half dragged her from the backseat out onto the gravel driveway. "You need a hand?"

It was a testament to how preoccupied he was that Killian didn't even stop to consider that might've been a crack about his prosthetic until Emma was already inside and passed out on his bed.

He texted Elsa first. A simple heads up.

There's an unconscious woman in the house. Don't freak out. KJ

It went about as well as you'd expect.

At least he had sisterly back up when he broke the news to Liam that he wasn't getting his review.

Needless to say, by the time Emma raised her groggy head from his pillow, the house was no longer silent, and it was no longer still. Elsa had insisted on rushing home, and boyish shrieks permeated the air, punctuated by the usual crashing and banging.

Killian sat in his one armchair, an ugly monstrosity of purple velvet which had been forbidden from the rest of the house, sipping his tea as she came awake. It took some time. One eyelid slithered open. Then the other. Never both at the same time.

"Do I want to know why someone is screaming in the next room?" Her voice was scratchy, and he motioned towards the glass of water by the bedside.

"Nephews," Killian said by way of explanation, as she crawled forward to grasp the glass in both hands, shaking with the effort.

She took a long draught, surveying her surroundings. He wondered how much she remembered from the last two days, if anything. If she even remembered his arrival at The Marksman, or August's leaving. She examined the ornate cornices, and floating beams. The collection of spent paperbacks stacked by the bed and the shabby, unmatched furniture.

"Your house. Your room?"

"My room," he confirmed. "We have guest rooms, but they're upstairs. And quite frankly, just getting you this far was nightmare enough. You're heavier than you look."

He earned a pillow to the face for that remark. It still smelled of her, which in her current state, wasn't much of a testimonial.

"Shower?" he ventured.

"Please," she said, rolling over until she could place both feet on the floor.

"Second door on the right. Elsa left some things out. Towels. Fancy shampoo. Paracetamol," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Should be a set of clothes too."

She cringed. "Elsa knows I'm here?"

"Sorry. It's a new house rule of theirs. Radical honesty. Elsa knows you're having a rough time of it, and are convalescing. But that is the extent of her knowledge. Whether that remains the case, is entirely up to you."

"Right."

"Oh," he said, smacking his forehead. He scrabbled around on top of his dresser, before presenting her with a wooden triangle.

She took it automatically, seeming annoyed at herself for doing so. "Uh, thanks?"

"The bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Best wedge it under the door. Trust me when I say, you don't want Lachie walking in on you in the altogether. It's stressful for all involved."

"Good tip," she said, with a ghost of a smile.

She edged past him awkwardly to the door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She'd already slipped into the hallway when her head appeared back around the door.

"Killian?"

"Aye?"

"I'm horrendously hungover so you probably can't tell, but I appreciate, uh…" she waved the wedge around vaguely. "All this."

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, but please do shut up," he said with a wink. "Also, you're taking me out for pancakes after, so don't be too long."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, am I just?"

"You are indeed. Best thing for a gin hangover, in my limited experience. And it was very generous of you to offer."

"Very generous," she agreed, dubiously. "And Killian?

"Aye?"

"You're so full of shit. But... I do love pancakes. And one more thing?"

"Hmm?"

She kicked a toe into the carpet, eyes evasive. "You're sort of my best friend, too." Then she disappeared back behind the door, leaving Killian slack jawed.

***

He'd nearly finished two chapters of his book by the time Emma returned from her trip to the bathroom, shower soft and minty fresh.

"Better?" he asked, putting the novel aside.

"Much," she agreed. "Though full disclosure, I think I just used a $300 tube of lotion, and I kinda smell like a baby Porsche."

"The very best kind of Porsche," Killian assured her, offering her his prosthetic to take. "They're terrors once they hit the teenage years. Shall we?"

They crossed Bruntsfield Links just after sunset, the sky still streaked with pink and orange. He'd always loved summers in Scotland, that neverending twilight. It almost made shivering through six months of winter worthwhile. He was so busy admiring the scene, he nearly missed it when Emma detached herself from his arm, stopping in her tracks.

"Emma?"

She was standing entirely still, her eyes shut.

"Are you alright, love?"

Her eyes flickered open, almost surprised to see him still standing there. "Sorry, just… cataloguing."

"Cataloguing," Killian repeated, deadpan.

"Yeah, smartass," she said, walking forward to loop her arm under his again. "Cataloguing. Sometimes I forget, but this-" she indicated the kaleidoscope sky, the green-gold expanse of grass disappearing into the distant smudge that was Arthur's Seat, the group of laughing teenagers nearby trying to finish their mini golf game before they lost the light, "-Sometimes I still have to pinch myself."

She didn't elaborate, and Killian found himself oddly lost for words. He just reached over to squeeze her hand, and led her back towards the city lights.

For the time of year, they got lucky. The line was short, and it wasn't long before they were led to a red vinyl booth, complete with its very own mini jukebox. They both stared at it for a good minute before Emma fished a spare pound out of her pocket, and dropped it onto the table between them. "Your call. I'm going to the bathroom. Anything but Don't Stop Believin'."

Lord help him, but he thought he might love her.

He settled for a less foreboding tune, which morphed into another, then another, before he was fishing out his own coins to keep the party going. If he didn't know her any better, he might've thought she'd done a runner on him. Fortunately, he did know her better. Or at least, he was starting to.

She came back just in time for the guitar solo in The Chain, her I'm-bearing-up smile indicating she was doing nothing of the sort.

"Ruby texted," she explained, taking her seat opposite him. "About twenty times. She wouldn't stop until I FaceTimed her. I miss anything?"

"Just side one of Rumours. And your drink order." He indicated the glass of fizzy orange liquid in front of her.

She wrinkled her nose. "Fanta?"

"Irn-Bru. Best hangover cure there is."

She cast him a doubtful look.

"I'm serious. There's been studies."

"Oh well, if there's been studies." She slid the glass minutely closer, but didn't partake. Instead she watched as Killian lifted his own glass, and made a face.

He lowered his glass. "What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm never drinking again. I didn't even know they served beer here."

"They do, but this is Dry Ginger."

She raised an eyebrow. "Ginger ale? You?"

Killian shrugged. "It's something I'm trying. Like a cleanse. But instead of drinking juice and doing yoga, I drink post-mix dry ginger and be less of a twat."

"Sobriety." Emma slapped her hand against the table. "I wish I'd thought of that. But I've barely seen you, when did you decide this?"

"Roughly…" he counted back the days, "43 days ago." When I thought I'd lost your friendship forever. But he didn't have to say it. From the look on her face, she already knew the significance.

"Huh." Emma sat back in her seat, absorbing that. But if she was planning on expanding on that thought, she was saved by the arrival of their waitress, who was all too eager to expound on the daily specials.

By the time they were alone again, Emma had cracked and was halfway through her Irn-Bru.

"I mean, it's not repellent…" she offered, by way of grudging approval.

"Trust me, it works." And then because he felt like they'd danced around it long enough, "So do you want to talk about it?"

She set down her glass, letting her fingers trace along the edge of the table top. "Nope. But somehow I feel like we're going to anyway."

"It was only about eight hours ago you wanted me to leave you to die in Leith's most depressing pub. I feel like it warrants at least a conversation."

She grimaced at the memory. Or perhaps where the memories ought to have been. It was hard for him to be sure.

"I fell in love with a married woman once. If you're worried about my judgement, you needn't be."

He wasn't quite sure where it had come from. This sudden urge to talk about Milah. But it was how they'd always operated, wasn't it? If he wanted Emma to take down her walls, he had to offer up a few bricks from his own. Well, this was more of a boulder, really, but at least he had her attention.

She snorted. "I wasn't in love with Graham."

"So what's the problem?"

"Because," she reasoned, tears springing into her eyes. "It's just so fucking mortifying. To be played for a fool, again. I thought I was smarter than that. I thought I could just, I don't know, flirt with a cute, intelligent guy and feel good about myself for five fucking seconds without it ending with his wife beating down my door demanding to know if I'd fucked her husband!"

She'd gotten a little loud towards the end there, with more than a few wary eyes glancing their way. Killian quickly stood up, and made his way over to her side of the booth, slipping in beside her. It was a tight fit, but it did succeed in sheltering her from most of the stares.

"Alright, so he's a tosser."

Another snort.

"Liam's bookie knows a guy. I could make a few calls?"

She shot him a sideways glance. "Don't tempt me right now. I just feel so stupid. But like, in an angry way."

"You're not stupid for being taken in by him. It's not a weakness to want to see the best in people, Emma. In fact, considering how many people in your life have disappointed you, myself included, I'd say it's pretty bloody brave."

Emma shook her head. "Is it though? I saw red flags. Even from the start he was kind of flaky. I wasn't even sure if I really liked him. It just appealed to my vanity, that he seemed to like me. So don't I deserve this? Just a little?"

"No." Killian wasn't sure where the vehemence came from, but he could feel it, welling up. "No, you don't deserve to be lied to, and dragged into the middle of someone else's messed up marriage without your knowledge or consent. No, you don't deserve being made to feel like the side-piece. You're not the side-piece. You're the heroine. And he's just a fucking wanker. What you deserve..." He looked up to see their server approaching the table, platters piled high with maple syrup topped goodness. He shot Emma a smile. "What you deserve, is pancakes."

***

It would've been remiss of him not to foot the bill, after his earlier declaration about her deserving pancakes, so there'd been a little bit of an argument about that as they wended their way down Clerk Street in the growing darkness. That Emma could argue about not paying for the pancakes he'd goaded her into in the first place, was a testament to the healing powers of Irn-Bru and a triple stack. No truly hungover person would have committed to such a futile battle.

But when they arrived at the beginning of her street, Emma stopped arguing and grabbed a hold of Killian's arm, pulling him up short.

She was shaking her hands out, like she was fighting off an attack of nerves, and Killian was instantly on the defensive. "Swan?"

She stopped when he said her name, plastering on what seemed to him a rather brittle smile. "Hey. Sorry. I'm just wondering, would you do me a favour?"

He had to chuckle at that. "Swan, if the last twelve hours have proven anything, it's that yes, I am available for favours. Unless of course they involve you paying me back for the pancakes. Because I'm afraid I'm rather immovable on that front."

"Great. So umm… Ruby has this theory."

"Ruby has a theory?" he repeated, hoping at some point, things would start making sense. "What manner of… theory?"

"Oh, god this is so stupid," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm just going to say it. I'm just going to come right out and say it: I want you to kiss me."

Something very violent was happening inside Killian's chest, a feeling which was neither happiness, nor disappointment, but a crushing combination of the two. He felt hot and cold. He felt light-headed.

"You want-" he started.

Emma's eyes were screwed shut, as if bracing for a blow. Or in this case, the fallout. She already had regrets. And more than that, it had been Ruby's idea. But why would Ruby…?

Of course.

The best way to get over a man, was to get under a new one. Wasn't that the old adage?

It wasn't about him. It wasn't about them.

No, she'd been clear. I want you to kiss me. She'd chosen him. She trusted him to be the one to soothe her wounded pride. Maybe she'd hoped it would be him. Maybe he was just the most convenient option. In any case, the wondering would certainly kill him.

But not as much as going through with it.

He reached out and took her hand, waiting until she opened her eyes. By Christ, people weren't supposed to look so beautiful by yellow street light. It wasn't scientific. And yet.

"No."

Now it was her turn to look like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Oh." She made to release her hand from his, but he held firm. In fact, he pulled her closer, just a little.

"No, I'm not going to kiss your bruised pride back into place. Because I promise you, it's going to heal just fine on its own. You don't need a kiss from me or anyone to remind you what you're worth. You never have. It's one of my favourite things about you. Understand?"

Her reply was a little choked up when it came. "Got it."

She gravitated closer, her eyes shining, and he felt like he was losing his mind. He was certainly losing his nerve. He settled instead for raising her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"That's one for the road."

He released her then, though nearly every part of his was screaming at him to do the opposite. Thankfully, she looked just as shaken as he felt. He nearly twisted his ankle in a gutter trying to put a little distance between them. And then he had one perfect surge of stupid confidence, and turned back to face her. She was still standing under the streetlight where he'd left her, looking oddly incomplete.

"Will you do me a favour, Swan?" he called out.

She held up her hands in a helpless shrug. "Sure."

"When the time is right, ask me again."

Then with his heart hammering a million miles a minute, he turned away and slipped into the adjoining street, and back into the night.

#cs ff #cs au #findemmaswanafriend #the emotional return #been a while...

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softlighter · 4 years ago

Text

The Roommate

written for @sparrowhawk-station‘s shapeshifter Blake prompt! Hope you enjoy. <3

Also posted as “The Roommate” on ao3.

“Yeah, I just found her,” Yang said into her Scroll.

“Where?” Weiss asked, distaste clear in her voice. “Off the street?”

“She was on my front porch!”

“That cannot be sanitary.”

“We gave her a bath at the vet’s,” Yang huffed. The female cat she had dumbed Bumblebee for her dark black fur and bright gold eyes was currently napping on the arm of her couch. Yang ran her fingers through her hair. “And she got all her shots, and she’s not chipped, and if I didn’t take her in, she was getting sent to the kill shelter. The kill shelter, Weiss!”

Weiss sighed through the phone. “You’ve never even had a cat before!”

“There’s a first time for everything!” she chirped. “I already got her food and a collar and a leash-”

“Yang. She’s a cat. You cannot walk a cat.”

“Watch me.”

Another sigh. “You’re exhausting.”

“You’re not wrong,” she laughed.

A tight sigh. “You know, when I said you needed a roommate, I didn’t mean the fluffy and furry kind. I meant the people kind.”

“I don’t need a roommate,” she said automatically. “It’s my house, Weiss, and it’s my life. I’m fine.”

“You’re lonely.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “And I’m not lonely! I’m talking to you!”

“Yes, but you only talk to me, Ruby, and Penny-”

“And Jaune, and Pyrrha, and Ren, and Nora-”

“You need to get out more,” Weiss interrupted. “We need to get you back on the dating scene.”

It was Yang’s turn to sigh, and she curled a lock of her hair around her finger. “No, we do not,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “I’m happy, and I’m fine. Just because you’re happy in a relationship doesn’t mean I would be happy in a relationship.” Her heart ached, but she ignored it. She didn’t have time for a relationship, and that was that. “Also, aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I’m the CEO, I do what I want,” Weiss sniffed. Yang rolled her eyes, reclining deeper into her couch. “But I do have a meeting in five minutes, so we’re going to have to make this quick.” Weiss’s voice softened. “I’m happy for you, Yang.”

Yang blew out a breath. “Thanks, Weiss.” She scratched Bumblebee’s furry head, who purred in her sleep. It made Yang’s heart clench in the most pleasant way. “And if I ever want to get back out there, you’re the first person I’d call, you know that.”

“I’m happily taken, thank you very much,” Weiss snarked.

“Don’t remind me,” Yang said, closing her eyes. “I have no idea how those two sweethearts put up with you.”

“Because I’m a wonderful and very generous lover-”

“Gross, Weiss. That’s my sister.”

She could hear Weiss cackling. “Look, I have to go. But I’ll be by later for dinner with Ruby and Penny. We still good for six thirty?”

“Oh fuck, that’s tonight?”

“See you tonight, Yang.” Weiss hung up before Yang could curse again. She dropped her Scroll on the couch beside her and tilted her head back into the couch. She eyed up Bumblebee, who was now awake and staring at her. “We got a lot of work to do, Bee,” she said.

Bumblebee meowed, and Yang sighed. She held out her arm, and Bumblebee gracefully walked up her arm to place herself around Yang’s neck. Yang stood up, her cat-scarf clinging to her as she moved. “Wanna help me make dinner?” she asked. Bumblebee meowed again, and Yang could feel the vibrations moving out from the feline and into Yang’s skin.

They walked into the kitchen, and Bumblebee promptly leaped off of Yang to sit on the chair she had claimed earlier. Miraculously, Yang hadn’t had to tell her to stay off the counters or the table. Whoever had Bumblebee before her had trained her well.

Guilt twisted in her stomach as she studied her new cat. Bumblebee was still malnourished and bruised from her last owner’s treatment. Yang patted her cat’s head and gave her a smile as a silent apology. Bumblebee purred, her head bopping against Yang’s hand. She was soft, impossibly so. Despite everything the cat had gone through, her fur hadn’t been matted, and Bumblebee was delightfully fuzzy.

Yang nervously checked the clock and debated what to do for dinner. Worst came to worst, she could order pizza for the four of them. No one would complain about pizza, especially about the local pizzeria she ordered from at least once a month. She checked her fridge and decided pizza was the way to go, even if Weiss would smirk about it.

“Pizza it is, BeeBee,” she said. Bumblebee meowed, daintily licking her paw. She held herself impossibly regally, even though she was still injured.

Yang had been surprised at how quickly the feline had warmed to her. When Yang had first found her three days ago, she had been hissing and yowling. Getting her to the vet had been a journey and a half and gotten her nothing but claw marks that still burned. But she had looked into those golden eyes and known she couldn’t let the beautiful feline go to the kill shelter. After that, it was almost like Bumblebee had known that Yang had saved her. She wasn’t affectionate per se, but she wasn’t fighting her anymore and even let Yang pick her up.

In the past three days, Yang had taken to the cat like a moth to flame. Bumblebee was a sweetheart when she wasn’t fighting Yang, and she loved it best when Bumblebee came to her and demanded pets, even if she asked for said pets at inopportune times. Yang didn’t mind. She needed a friend, even if she had told Weiss she didn’t.

Weiss, Ruby, and Penny arrived just after pizza had been delivered. “Kitty!” Penny cried out as greeting, immediately handing the wine she was holding off to Ruby before flapping her hands. “Where’s the kitty?”

Yang grinned. “Come here, Bumblebee,” she said, crouching down to beckon the cat from underneath the table. Bumblebee shrank away. Yang cocked her head. “Are you shy?” she asked. “It’s okay, they’re just friends.” Her voice was soft, and Bumblebee nervously stepped forward. “Penny, come here, and hold your hand out.”

The redhead obliged, bending down beside Yang and tentatively holding her hand out with wide eyes. Bumblebee looked to Yang, who nodded, before gently pressing her head to Penny’s hand. Penny squealed, and Bumblebee shrunk back. “No, I’m sorry!” Penny exclaimed softly. “I just got excited!”

“She’s a little shy,” Yang said. “She was hurt real bad before I got her. I think she’s a little nervous around people.” She started petting Bumblebee once more and smiled at her responding purr. “But she’s a sweetheart. Just be careful.”

Penny held out her hand once more, and Bumblebee bopped her hand. “She’s so soft,” Penny marveled. “I wish we could get a cat, but I don’t think Weiss could take all the fur getting everywhere.”

Ruby giggled behind them, and Yang bit back a snort. “We’re barely home, Penny,” Weiss said, clearly exhausted from already having this conversation. “We don’t have the time to take care of a cat.”

“You could get a fish?” Yang suggested.

Ruby clapped, and Weiss groaned. “A fish would be delightful!” Penny declared, standing up and brushing her hands off on her skirt. “We should get a fish.”

Weiss shot daggers at Yang, but Ruby just asked, “Where’s the food?”

“Let’s wash our hands and head into the kitchen,” she said, dragging Penny away from Bumblebee.

“I thought you said she was clean,” Weiss asked warily.

“You should always wash your hands before dinner,” Yang said, rubbing her hands together underneath the faucet. Weiss wrinkled her nose, and Yang stuck her tongue out at her. “Lighten up, Weiss. Bumblebee’s a good cat.”

“You’ve had her for three days,” Weiss said curtly.

“Best three days of my life!” she shot back as she sat down and helped herself to a slice of pizza. She moaned around the cheesy bread, suddenly aware of how hungry she was. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “How was everyone’s day?” she asked, taking a sip of her water.

“It was a pretty slow day today,” Penny said. “No calls for me, thankfully!” Penny may be small, but she was the strongest firefighter in all of Vale. There had been a competition, and Penny had blown her competitors out of the water.

“That’s good that it was a quiet day. My meetings went well,” Weiss said. “They were a complete headache, but they went well at least. We’re moving ahead on some new technology, which should be a real asset. What about you, Ruby?”

“I’m heading to the restaurant later, but I spent most of the day working on new recipes,” her sister said. “I can’t quite get the spices right, but I’m getting close.” Ruby’s eyes flicked to her. “What about you, Yang? What did you do today?”

“Hung with BeeBee,” she said casually. “Nothing much.”

Penny, Weiss, and Ruby managed to exchange a look, which Yang still marveled at their ability to do so, even when it grated on her. “Did you go to physical therapy today?” Penny asked gently, but that wasn’t enough to soften the blow of her words.

“Nope,” she said too casually. “I didn’t have an appointment today. I usually go on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“So did you go yesterday?” Weiss asked, raising an arched brow.

“Yes,” she gritted.

“Good!” Ruby said, clapping. “That’s really good, Yang. How are you doing?”

She felt all of their gazes pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room and refusing to look at her right arm. She clenched her fist as she folded her pizza in half and brought it to her mouth to buy herself time. The metal of her hand creaked quietly, and she brought her arm back down to her lap to avoid dealing with their acute avoidance.

“I’m doing good,” she said. “Making progress.” She hesitated, but added, “They think I’ll be good to go back to work in the fall.”

“And do you want to go back to work?” Weiss asked.

“I need to do something productive with my life,” she said tightly. She gestured around. “I’m going nuts doing nothing.” She had spent far too many days lounging on the couch and moping about. At least she was moving again, leaving the house again.

“What’re you gonna do about Bumblebee when you go back to work?” Penny asked.

Yang shrugged. “She’s pretty self-sufficient. She just needs me to feed her.” Bumblebee was inclined to roam the house, but she did usually stay in the same room as Yang. “I think she would be all too happy to get me out of the house and have it all to herself for a couple hours.”

“This is why you should have gotten a dog!” Ruby said. “No offense to Bumblebee, but dogs are way more loyal! They wait for you to come home! They’re total sweethearts!”

“Yeah, but Bumblebee is cuter than any dog,” she pointed out.

Ruby gasped, holding a hand to her forehead and sagging against Penny, who merely giggled at her girlfriend. “Don’t let Zwei hear you say that!” her sister warned. “He’ll never forgive you.”

Yang rolled her eyes, but she was glad the conversation had drifted from her to a safer topic. Bumblebee curled around her ankles, purring. Yang smiled and leaned down to scratch the top of her head. “Zwei loves me, and so does Bumblebee,” she said. “All animals love me.”

Weiss snorted. “I haven’t forgotten about that bird that pooped on you,” she said.

“That was six years ago!” she said. Bumblebee pulled closer to her ankle, and Yang lowered her voice. “And that was one bird, ages ago.” Bumblebee purred again, nuzzling her ankle once more. Her cat still wasn’t used to loud noises, she had noticed, and it was hard to remember to keep her usually loud voice quieter, but she was trying.

“It shat in your hair. I’m never letting you live that down,” Weiss smirked.

Yang groaned. “Six. Years. Ago. And don’t remind me,” she said, pulling her hair over her shoulder in a comforting motion. “My hair didn’t deserve that.”

The table broke out in laughter, and a smile tugged at her lips. Life was good. Life was really good.

~~~

She woke up to tiny cries. Yang sat up, instantly moving for Bumblebee who was yowling at the edge of her bed. Yang scooped her up in her arms and began shushing her, gently stroking her fuzzy head. “It’s okay,” she breathed. “It’s all okay.”

Bumblebee was shaking in her hands and still yowling at the top of her tiny lungs. She was trying to scratch Yang, but it was more out of panic than out of malice. “It’s okay,” she said. “I got you now. No one’s gonna hurt you now. I promise.” She kept stroking her head until her cries died down and Bumblebee’s tiny body wasn’t shaking half so badly. Yang gently laid Bumblebee in her lap and watched as she curled up.

Her throat was thick, and she whispered, “It’s okay. I get nightmares too,” she whispered. Bumblebee meowed, as if she was trying to respond. Yang chuckled. “They’re the worst, aren’t that?”

Bright wide gold eyes looked up at her, catching the moonlight. A small nod of that fuzzy head. Yang gave her cat a half-smile. “I’m sorry someone hurt you,” she said. Bumblebee nuzzled her hand, but Yang continued. “Someone hurt me, too.” Her throat thickened, and she was acutely aware of the absent weight of her metal arm.

Bumblebee stood on her hind legs to look Yang in the eyes. “But we’re together now, and we’re not gonna let anyone hurt us ever again. Aren’t we?” Bumblebee nodded, as if she could understand. Yang smiled. “I’ll protect you, BeeBee.” She held her cat tight to her chest and closed her eyes. “I’ll protect you. You don’t need to be afraid anymore.” Bumblebee purred, and she gave Yang’s cheek a quick lick. Yang laughed, wiping her cheek.

“We should get some sleep,” she said. “The nightmares can’t last forever.” She hoped.

But Bumblebee purred and nuzzled her cheek. Yang let herself fall back against the mattress, still holding the dark cat. “I’m a cuddler,” she warned. Bumblebee simply purred again, settling down on the space of mattress in front of Yang’s chest. “You can wake me up, though. If you have nightmares.” She yawned. “I might wake you up with mine.”

Bumblebee cocked her head. Yang just smiled tightly. “But don’t worry, BeeBee. I’ll take care of you.” Gold eyes blinked at her, and that was the last thing Yang saw before she closed her eyes. “I promise. I’ll take care of you.” She would protect Bumblebee. She could do that much. Even if she had lost her arm. Even if she had lost herself for a while.

She could do that much.

~~~

Yang let out a grunt of frustration as she held the plank, sucking in her breath. Thirty more seconds, according to her timer. She could do another thirty seconds. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to take a deep breath of air as she felt her shaking worsen. Twenty seconds. Fifteen. Ten.

She collapsed to the ground with a groan. “Fuck!” she spat, flopping onto her side. Yang grabbed her Scroll and ended the timer with a sigh before placing it back on the floor beside her. She would try again in a few minutes, but, for now, her core ached, and she needed a breather. She needed a break.

No, what she needed was her fucking body back. What she needed was her strength back. What she needed was herself back.

A fuzzy tail brushed her ankle, and Yang let out a sharp breath as Bumblebee came up to snuggle. “You still like me, at least,” she muttered. Bumblebee meowed, and a smile tugged at the corners of Yang’s mouth. She sat up and started scratching behind her ears, just where she knew BeeBee liked it best.

Bumblebee gave her wide eyes, as if asking Why wouldn’t I like you? You feed me and blinked at her slowly. Yang sighed, running a hand through her own hair. “I’m not as strong as I used to be,” she explained. Her chin wobbled. “I’m weak. And I need to get strong again.”

BeeBee meowed, her cute face scrunching up to bare her teeth. Yang rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Weiss says the same thing,” she said. “But I want to feel comfortable in my skin again. If that’s possible.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. Bumblebee pawed her arm and climbed up onto her shoulders. Yang smiled as the feline nuzzled her neck. “Thanks, BeeBee.”

She bent forward and stretched out her legs and back, Bumblebee still curled around her neck like a scarf as she moved. Her lower back crackled and popped, but it felt better as she straightened up. Her Scroll buzzed, and she carefully grabbed it as to not disturb Bumblebee too much as she answered the call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“We got a fish!” Ruby announced.

Yang smiled, letting out a breath. “Only took four months of arguing,” she teased.

“Shut it, Xiao Long!” Weiss called in the background.

“His name is Barry the Beta Fish, and I love him very much,” Penny added.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” she said as BeeBee purred around her neck.

“Do you want to come over later for dinner?” Ruby asked.

Yang pretended to think for a moment. “Are you cooking?”

“I will!” Ruby said.

“Then I’ll be there. What time works?”

“How about five?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you then!” Yang hung up and nuzzled Bumblebee as she pulled up her timer once more. “Alright, BeeBee, let me get back to work,” she said, taking Bumblebee from around her neck and placing her on the floor. Bumblebee hissed, but she strode off, tail waving in the air before settling down in front of Yang’s yoga mat. Yang resumed her position and started the timer once more.

She forced a grin at BeeBee, who meowed in response. Almost as if she was cheering her on. It made Yang’s grin grow. She adjusted her position and held her core tight, taking deep breaths. She could do this. She could definitely do this.

~~~

Yang unlocked her door, humming as she did. She turned and closed it behind her as she took her shoes off and set them by the door. She had left Ruby’s, Weiss’s, and Penny’s early because she had forgotten that she had to get up early for physical therapy. Normally, she stayed until late, but the sun was still out, although it was setting.

She dropped her keys in the dish and strode into the kitchen. Yang froze. “Who the fuck are you?” she asked, voice shaking. The dark hair woman digging in her fridge stilled at Yang’s voice. “How did you get in here?”

The woman turned around, gold eyes wide. “You’re not supposed to be home for at least another hour,” she said. Her voice was a throaty rasp, as if she hadn’t spoken in ages.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” she demanded, ignoring how the woman knew her well enough to know her schedule. “How did you get in here?”

The woman audibly swallowed. She was shaking, Yang realized. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Yang’s heart softened at her broken tone, but that didn’t stop the fear sparking through her. She looked her up and down and checking for any weapons. She was unarmed and, oddly, pantless. Yang’s stomach clenched. The woman was wearing her shirt. “What the fuck?” she heard herself say.

The woman’s throat bobbed. There was a flash of light, and the woman was gone. In her place sat Bumblebee, who was shaking. Yang blinked, eyes burning from the light, but before she could get accustomed to it, the woman was back with another flash of light. “I’m so sorry, Yang,” the woman croaked.

“What the actual fuck?”

The woman was shaking harder. “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” she said. Yang’s mouth was dry. “I thought you wouldn’t be home for a while longer, and I was just so sick of having to drink out of a bowl, and I just wanted a cup of tea. I’m sorry.”

Yang blinked. “Are you my cat?”

The woman, or Bumblebee, tentatively nodded.

“What the fuck?” Bumblebee flinched, and Yang became distinctly aware of how loud she was speaking. “I’m sorry, but what the fuck is going on?” she asked, lowering her voice slightly. She was still angry, still confused, but she couldn’t unsee the woman’s winces in contrast with the way Bumblebee had shook whenever it got too loud.

“Maybe we should sit down,” Bumblebee said.

Yang silently took a seat at her kitchen table, never taking her eyes off of Bumblebee. Bumblebee took a seat across from her. “What the fuck is going on?” she asked again. Her own voice was shaking, and she wasn’t quite sure why. “What is happening?”

The woman took a deep breath. “My name is Blake,” she said. “I’m a shapeshifter.”

Yang’s mouth dried up. “Alright.” She nodded. “Shapeshifters are real. Alright. That’s fine. And apparently my cat is one. This is totally fine.” Panic edged her voice, but she nodded at the woman, Blake, to continue.

“I never meant to- I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Why the fuck were you pretending to be a cat?” she demanded. “My cat?”

Blake took a deep breath. “You saw how badly I was hurt,” she said. Yang stilled as Blake continued. “My ex-boyfriend beat me. I had to get away from him, and I did the only thing I could. So I shifted and ran away, and I ended up here. I didn’t have a plan, I just needed to get away from him. But I was in so much pain, and I wound up on your porch barely able to move. And you took me in.” Blake’s throat bobbed.

“You took me in, and you protected me, and you took care of me.” Blake’s golden eyes flickered, so similar to Bumblebee’s and yet so different. “I had planned on leaving once I was better, but you seemed to need a friend.” Yang’s cheeks heated, although she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. “And I wanted to repay you as best I could.”

“So you pretended to be my pet?” Her stomach tightened. “Did you understand me when I was speaking to you?”

Blake nodded, biting her lip. “I did,” she said quietly.

“And what? Did you- Do you pity me?” she asked.

“I wanted to repay you!” Blake rubbed her brow. “You helped me, and I wanted to help you, and being Bumblebee seemed to help you.”

“What was your long term plan here?” she demanded. “Just pretend to be a cat until you died?”

“Obviously, I didn’t have a long term plan!” Blake said. “I just- You helped me And I wanted to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she snarled.

Blake winced. “I know. And I never wanted to hurt you, Yang, I just- I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice was pleading. “I was scared.”

Yang faltered. She took a deep breath and leaned back against her chair with a sigh. “What do you want to do now?” she asked wearily. “Because you don’t owe me anything, Blake.”

“But I do,” she said softly. “You saved my life, Yang. In ways more than one.” Blake’s throat bobbed. “And I’ll leave if you want me to.”

Yang looked up at her. “You don’t have anywhere to go.” It wasn’t a question, but Blake nodded. Yang sighed. “You can stay here,” she said. “

Blake froze. “What?”

She shrugged. “You don’t have anywhere to go,” she repeated. “And I have a guest room. You can stay here and get back on your feet.” Her throat thickened. “You can be whatever you want. Bumblebee, or you, or whatever, you can be a human or cat. But you can stay here.”

“I can leave,” Blake said, but she was biting her lip.

“I’m not letting you go back on the street again,” she said. “And you’ve already been living here for six months.” She flexed her fingers. “I can help you get back on your feet, and then you can do whatever you want.”

Blake nodded, but she looked ashamed. “I’m sorry, Yang.”

Yang just shrugged. “I’m going to bed,” she said flatly. “I have physical therapy early tomorrow.” She hesitated. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything,” Blake said instantly.

“Don’t leave the house. I don’t have a spare key to give you, and the locks are automatic. If you get locked out, you’re locked out until I get back.” She rubbed her temples. “And I have some pjs for you.”

“Sorry about the shirt,” Blake said. “I just didn’t want to walk around naked.”

“I get that,” she said awkwardly. She stood up. “I’ll put your stuff in the guest room.”

“Thank you, Yang.”

Yang just pursed her lips and nodded, all too aware of the awkwardness. “Yup. No problem,” she said. She awkwardly walked out of the kitchen and closed the door to her room.

What the fuck was she going to do?

~~~

She woke up to the smell of bacon. Her stomach grumbled, and she practically ran out of bed into the kitchen to see Blake cooking. Somewhere, she had found an apron, and she was standing over a spitting pan and flipping pancakes. “Oh, you’re awake,” Blake said, turning to face her. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Yang blinked at her. “You’re making me breakfast?” she asked slowly. “You didn’t have to do that.” Even if her stomach was grumbling and she was ravenous and it was nice to wake up to someone cooking her breakfast. It was weird, it was so damn weird.

Blake just shrugged. “It was the least I could do,” she said. Blake bit her lip. “You’ve made me breakfast for the past few months. I wanted to repay the favor.”

“You really didn’t have to,” she said.

“I wanted to.” Blake gave her a tentative smile, and Yang’s stomach flipped. Brothers, she was beautiful. She gave a tiny shake of her head, as if to chase the thoughts away. Blake had been her cat for six months. She should not be thinking about how stunning she was, even if she was in human form. But Yang couldn’t deny Blake’s beauty.

She swallowed hard and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot Blake had made. “Thank you,” she said quietly, awkwardly. “I appreciate it.”

Blake just nodded and gave her a small smile.

~~~

“So how did you meet Yang?” Weiss asked, eyes cutting between them.

Yang’s eyes flicked to Blake, who nodded. They had gone over this. “We met in physical therapy,” Blake said easily.

“Funny, Yang never mentioned you.” Weiss’s icy eyes narrowed to slits. “And you just moved in because?”

“Yang is doing me a solid,” Blake said. “I- My ex kicked me out of our apartment.” Another lie, one they hadn’t discussed. “I needed a place to stay, and Yang was kind enough to offer up her guest room. She’s a really great person, and she’s really helping me out.”

“Yang is a really great person!” Penny agreed brightly.

Yang took a deep drink of her wine. This had been a horrible idea, but she had no way of hiding that she suddenly had a roommate, and she wasn’t going to force Blake to stay in cat form when Weiss, Ruby, and Penny came over. A dinner with the five of them had been a horrible idea, but they were getting through it. Even if Weiss was suspicious as all hell and grilling Blake within an inch of her life.

“This salmon is really good,” she said, shoveling another bite into her mouth.

Ruby beamed. “Thank you!”

“And how long do you think you’ll be staying here?” Weiss asked.

Yang shot her a pointed look, but Blake just straightened her shoulders and said, “I’m working on getting an apartment already.”

Weiss nodded and took a drink of water.

“Alright, enough of the interrogation,” Yang said, only half-joking. “How was your guys’ day? What did you all do today?”

“We rescued a cat from a tree today!” Penny said with a smile. “She was so cute, and she was so scared! I felt so bad. But we managed to get her down and back to her family.” Penny’s braid flipped over her shoulder as she turned towards Yang with a tilted head. “Any word on BeeBee?”

Yang shook her head. “No word.” She had told them that BeeBee had run out the door and disappeared. They had put signs up over town with pictures of Bumblebee. It was Blake’s secret to tell, and either way, she wasn’t sure how her sister and her girlfriends would take the news that shapeshifters existed and that magic was real. It was the safer option, for both of their sakes, to not tell them. Still, it felt wrong to lie to them, and Yang took another sip of her wine.

Penny’s face faltered. “I’m sorry, Yang,” she said gently. “I know you really loved her.”

“I do,” she said. She felt Blake’s gaze on her. “But I have no doubt that, wherever she ends up, she’ll be okay. BeeBee is a fighter.” Blake smiled tightly at her, and Yang nodded back. “She’ll be okay.”

Weiss cleared her throat. “On a lighter note,” she said, “I’m glad you two are living together.”

“Really?” Yang, Ruby, Blake, and Penny all said in unison.

“I am!” Weiss’s eyes narrowed before softening. “You’re taking care of her?” she asked Blake.

“I don’t need to be taken care of!” she snapped.

“Yes,” Blake said with a wry smile. “I’m doing my best.”

Yang glared at Blake and Weiss, but there was no venom in it. In truth, Blake had been taking care of her. She made them breakfast and dinner every day, even though Yang had told her countless times over the past few weeks that she didn’t have to. In truth, it was nice.

“Good,” Weiss said, apparently satisfied.

Yang looked over at Blake and gave her a tight smile, and Blake smiled back.

~~~

“Hey, hey!”

Yang’s eyes snapped open, and she was all too aware of the hands on her shoulders. She jerked out of her grasp and sat up, pulling the covers to her chest. “What’s wrong?” she asked, taking deep breaths.

Blake’s gold eyes glinted in the moonlight. “You were screaming, Yang.”

“Oh.” Her throat thickened. She brushed her off. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit, you’re fine.” Blake sighed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but don’t lie to me, Yang.”

“I just had a nightmare,” she mumbled. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Blake ran a hand through her hair, and then there was a flash of light that briefly blinded Yang. Bumblebee was staring up at her and headbutted Yang’s hand.

“What?”

But Blake pushed her down to the bed, and Yang groaned. “I am not cuddling you,” she said. Blake rubbed her head underneath Yang’s neck, almost as if to say Then I’ll cuddle you. Yang sighed, and she begrudgingly accepted Blake into her arms.

“This is so damn weird, you know that?” she said before closing her eyes. Blake just purred, settling on the mattress. She rolled her eyes, but before she knew it, she was asleep.

~~~

Yang woke up with Blake in her arms. It was how she had woken up every morning for the past two weeks, ever since she had had that nightmare and Blake had transformed back into a cat to cuddle. During the night, Blake often wound up transforming back into a human, and at this point they got ready for bed together, and Blake just slept in her bed in her human form. It was weird, it was so damn weird, but it worked.

“You know, you can stay here,” she said one morning over breakfast. She swallowed the bite of pancakes, ignoring Blake’s stillness. “If you want. You can stay here.”

“Yang, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” she said gently. “You help me, and you’re kind, and sweet, and maybe I want you here.” She gave Blake a weak smile. “I want you here, if you want to be here.”

Blake’s throat bobbed. “I’d like that,” she said quietly.

~~~

“Hey, Blake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I take you out?” Yang swallowed hard. “You know, like on a date?” Her palm was sweating, and she wasn’t looking at Blake.

Blake laughed softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#rwby #bumbleby #my writing #answered prompt

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acanvasofabillionsuns · 4 years ago

Text

these fools need to learn communication

for @figurative-siren-song‘s Thing!! credits to the fabulous @main-chive and @an-absolute-failure for betaing ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Summary: I think the title says it all tbh Warnings: alcohol mention, insecurity, catastrophizing, Virgil panics some + doesn’t have good self care habits, one (1) curse word, Remus is mentioned Wordcount: just a little under 6k

Additional note!! The section that begins with “Remy and Janus are cuddling on Remy’s bed...” is a repeat of the previous scene, but from another POV

Virgil is so tired. It feels like every day there’s some new crisis to deal with or important thing to discuss, and he just wants a couple days to himself to unwind a bit.

But since he can’t get that, he wants a few hours to gripe with someone over everything that’s been going down lately.

Roman is way too dramatic for his tastes, and Patton would probably be too nice about what’s happening. So he goes to Logan. (He briefly toys with the idea of going to one of the Others, but things are… tense with them, so he discards it quickly.)

“Yes?” Logan asks, opening the door to their room.

“I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to complain with me about all the stuff that’s been happening lately? There’s been a lot, and you’ve probably had to deal with more of it than me, and I thought you might like to commiserate? It’s chill if you don’t want to, though,” Virgil says, shifting awkwardly.

“You are welcome to join us.” Logan opens the door wider and steps to the side.

“Us?” Virgil echoes, confused, until he goes inside and sees Janus sitting in a beanbag chair, swirling a wine glass idly. “Oh.”

“Lovely to see you too, Virgil,” fae says dryly.

Virgil scrunches up his nose and wonders if getting to complain about all the recent shenanigans is worth spending time in faer company. Janus mimics the expression—is fae mocking him?—and holds up a bottle of wine, shaking it a little to show that it’s still mostly full. Virgil sighs, shrugs, and conjures a plain beanbag and wine glass, collapsing into the former and holding out the latter to Janus. Fae obligingly fills it, and Virgil leans back in his beanbag, sipping it as Logan sits down.

“So what’re we talking about?” Virgil asks.

“Y’know the other day when…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil squints at Remy.

“Not to be rude,” Logan begins, but Virgil cuts them off.

“What are you doing here?” He demands.

“Real welcoming, Virgil,” Janus remarks snidely.

“He’s intruding on our thing!”

“Yes, and it’s not like you intruded on our thing only a month ago and we were hospitable, right? You totally have the right to snap at Remy.”

“Shut up.”

“Y’all are gossiping, babes,” Remy says. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Virgil opens his mouth to protest automatically, then finds that that’s a fair point. Remy does love gossip. He shuts his mouth reluctantly.

“Welcome to the group, Remy,” Janus declares, overexaggerating faer words and smirking at Virgil. He makes a mocking face back but doesn’t comment, crossing his arms as Janus conjures up a beanbag chair for Remy. The little pest. Now everyone but Virgil has a beanbag chair rather than a plain beanbag; this was absolutely deliberate.

Virgil scowls at Janus and sinks further down into his beanbag, letting the conversation flow around him without paying attention to what’s being said. Whatever; at least his seat isn’t a specific shape and therefore can be squished into a different position or turned upside down and still be the same. See any of them try to do that with their chair-shaped beanbags, only good for one shape and if you wanted to shift positions you had to make do with what you had, instead of adjusting the beanbag.

“Virgil?” Logan asks.

“Wh—yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

Virgil pushes himself more upright and sits on his hands. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure, babes?” Remy tilts his head down to look over his sunglasses at him.

“Yeah.” Virgil forces a smile. “Just… need to readjust my beanbag.” He stands up and flips it over, squishing it in a few spaces until it’s like he wants. The other three watch him in silence, making the affair at least twice as awkward as it would’ve been if they’d ignored him. Virgil sits back down, face red. “What’re we talking about?”

“These two were telling me about something that happened with Roman yesterday?” Remy says.

“Oh my gosh,” Virgil groans. “Okay, what do you already know?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a crisis, Virgil is having a crisis, a dilemma, a predicament, an emergency; sound the alarms, clang the warning bell, and gather the troops, Virgil has a crush.

This shouldn’t be happening! Not allowed! He’s too emotionally unstable to handle it and will mostly likely make a fool out of himself. Which is also absolutely not allowed.

And! The crush is on Janus, which is yet another not allowed thing. Last Virgil checked, he was still just tolerating faer presence, not getting a crush on faer. That’s just plain rude of his brain, please take it back he doesn’t want it.

He looks up at his ceiling, since that’s as far back as Virgil can roll his eyes without being in pain. Okay, he’s staring his brain down, and he’ll stop having a crush in three, two, one—

He pauses, thinks of Janus, groans. That didn’t work. And to be honest he didn’t really expect it to, but it still? would’ve been nice? if his brain could work with him for once??

Virgil sighs and flops backwards.

Okay, if demanding his brain stop having a crush didn’t work, maybe he can just… avoid faer. Maybe it’s just infatuation or something—doesn’t infatuation happen right after you meet someone? His brain asks. Shut up, he tells it—and if he stays away for a few days it’ll go away. That’s probably it.

He glances over at his minifridge and small hoard of non-perishables and mentally calculates. He’s got enough for about a week, that should be plenty enough time.

Virgil waves his hand and his door locks. There. Now he can just. sit around and avoid thinking about Janus until this crush/infatuation/whatever-it-is goes away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is great, Remy is having a great time, get some bells to ring and a rooftop for him to shout off, because Remy has a crush.

To be accurate, he has three: on Janus, Virgil, and Logan. He isn’t exactly sure when they started, only that he just now realized he has them, but he’s definitely not complaining.

He’s also definitely not going to sit around and pine silently for them or something. If he’s going to get rejected, better to get it over with and work on healing than let himself think there might be a chance for however long. (And, yeah, it would definitely hurt, if one or all of them didn’t like him—hurt a lot—but he’s ignoring that part.) And the revelation is giving him an extra burst of confidence (and it’s not like he didn’t already have that in spades) so he’s going to shoot his shot as soon as possible.

His brain decides the most efficient way to confess to the three of them is to wander around the mindscape until he finds them, so he does that until he bumps into Logan.

“Logan,” Remy declares. “I’m gay.”

“Yes,” Logan says, pulling out their flashcards and flipping through a few of them before pulling one out and showing it to him. “‘We been knew’ that, Remy.”

“Nice,” Remy compliments, throwing an arm around their shoulders. “But you see, my dear nerd, I’m gay for you.” He pokes their chest for emphasis.

Logan turns bright red and alternates between wordlessly gaping and stammering so hard Remy can’t make out anything they’re trying to say. They extract themself from Remy’s arm and smooth out their tie, their blush toning down only slightly.

“I… will have to think on this,” Logan says finally, which Remy interprets as Logan for ‘too gay rn; need some time to calm down and consider my feelings’.

“Cool; take all the time you need,” Remy tells them, flashing them a peace sign. “I’m gonna go find Janus and Virgil, see you in a bit.”

“Alright,” Logan says, and Remy takes that as his cue to wander off in search of his other two crushes.

The next one he runs into is Janus, who he immediately tells “I’m gay.”

“No,” fae snarks. “I thought you were straight.”

Remy gasps and scoffs offendedly (at the same time, because his need to be Dramatic™ at all times overrides any petty things like biology, especially when he’s been teased).

“Well, I was going to say I’m gay for you,” Remy tells faer, pressing a hand to his chest. “But if we’re on such a disconnect I’m just not sure anymore.”

“No, wait!” Janus says. “I’m gay for you too, darling, please.”

Remy immediately decides that any pet names for him are illegal; his face has no right blushing like that just because Janus called him ‘darling’. He covers his face, hoping that’ll hide the blush.

“Fine,” he mutters.

“What was that?” Janus smirks. “I couldn’t hear you through your hands, darling.” Fae gently takes his wrists and pulls his hands down. “There’s your gorgeous face.”

“Rude,” Remy huffs.

“But you’re gay for me anyway,” Janus purrs.

“I regret telling you that.”

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t,” Remy sighs. “You wanna be boyfriends? Or partners or something, if you don’t want to use ‘boyfriends’?”

“I would love that,” Janus smiles.

“Great, me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan knocks on Remy’s door.

“Come in!”

Logan walks in, sees Remy and Janus cuddling together, puts two and two together and gets four. Oh, they think, they’re dating.

Logan walks in, sees Remy and Janus cuddling together, and squares the twos instead of adding them. I took too long to answer, they assume. Remy must’ve gotten bored or didn’t want to wait and got with Janus instead.

“Oh,” they say. “My apologies. I’ll leave you two be.” They turn to leave.

“Wait, babes,” Remy says. Logan turns to see him stretching out a hand towards them. “What’d you need?”

“I did not need something, per se,” Logan mumbles. “However, I was going to accept Remy’s implied proposition, though it seems I misinterpreted it.”

“Hon, speak up, I can barely hear you,” Remy tells them. “And use less nerd talk; what I could hear I couldn’t understand.”

Logan sighs. “I interpreted your informing me that you are gay for me as you indirectly asking me to be in a relationship with you, but it seems that was a misstep on my part. If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking my leave now before I embarrass myself further.”

“Wait, why do you think I don’t want to be in a relationship with you?” Remy asks.

“It appears that you are dating Janus?” Logan says. “Did I misinterpret that as well?”

“No, we’re dating, but I wanna date you too,” Remy tells them. “If you don’t like Janus like that you don’t have to date faer, as long as you’re cool with sharing me.”

Logan blushes. “That would be satisfactory.”

“Janus?” Remy looks over to faer.

“I’m fine sharing,” Janus says.

“Actually,” Logan admits, blushing harder. “I feel I should confess that I harbor romantic feelings for you as well, Janus—and Virgil too, while I’m admitting these things—though if you do not wish to be in a romantic relationship with me then I am perfectly content to be metamours with you.”

“I’m certainly not opposed to dating you,” Janus tells them.

“So we’re all dating each other, then?” Remy asks.

“It certainly seems that way,” Logan answers, at the same time Janus says, “Yes.”

“Great.” Remy grins. “Come join the ‘yay I’ve got new boyfriends’ pile, Logan.” He pats the empty patch of bed beside him. Logan wrinkles their nose fondly and sits beside Remy, who pulls them down to sprawl across his stomach and onto Janus’s lap. Logan squawks, and tries to pull themself back up, but Remy pushes them back down, declaring, “No sitting up allowed.”

Logan snorts and looks over to Janus. Fae leans forward to kiss their forehead and then settles back against Remy’s side.

“Traitors, the both of you,” Logan huffs, though they can’t stop the smile spreading across their face as they say it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remy and Janus are cuddling on Remy’s bed when someone knocks on the door.

“Come in!” Remy calls. Logan walks in, looks at the two of them.

“Oh, my apologies. I’ll leave you two be.” They turn around. Remy stops them and needles them into admitting that Remy had asked them out—the exact same way he had asked Janus out, fae notes—but that was “a misstep on their part” somehow.

“Wait, why do you think I don’t want to be in a relationship with you?” Remy asks.

“It appears you are dating Janus? Did I misinterpret that as well?”

“No, we’re dating, but I want to date you too,” Remy explains. “If you don’t like Janus like that you don’t have to date faer, as long as you’re cool with sharing me.”

And Janus knows he’s just explaining the situation and Logan’s options, but wow, way to let faer have a say in whether or not fae wants to date Logan or share Remy with them. Fae’s fine with both, but that’s not the point.

“That would be satisfactory.” Logan blushes a pretty shade of pink and unkind thoughts who? Janus doesn’t know them.

“Janus?” Remy looks over to faer, silently asking for faer opinion, and that also helps.

“I’m fine sharing,” Janus confirms.

“Actually,” Logan says, blushing harder and it looks like Janus might just have a new favorite color, wow. “I feel I should confess that I harbor romantic feelings for you as well, Janus—and Virgil too, while I’m admitting these things—though if you do not wish to be in a romantic relationship with me then I am perfectly content to be metamours with you.”

“I’m certainly not opposed to dating you.” Janus grins.

“So we’re all dating each other, then?” Remy asks.

“Yes,” Janus says, while Logan answers with, “It certainly seems that way.”

“Great.” Remy grins. Between that smile and Logan’s blush, Janus just might die from gay. “Come join the ‘yay I’ve got two new boyfriends’ pile, Logan.”

Logan wrinkles their nose—how is faer boyfriend so cute—and sits down. Remy pulls them down on both his and faer laps, and he and Logan struggle briefly.

“No sitting up allowed,” Remy declares, and Logan snickers and looks over to Janus, looking a little like they’re trying to ask for help with their eyes. Janus, being the good boyfriend fae is, kisses their forehead.

“Traitors, the both of you,” Logan accuses, smiling.

“You love us, though,” Remy says.

Logan sighs. “I suppose I do.”

“And,” Remy continues. “You said you like Virgil?”

“Yes,” Logan confirms. “Is that a problem for either of you?”

“None here, babes,” Remy says.

“Here either,” Janus adds. Fae kind of fades out the conversation after that, watching Remy and Logan talk and trying not to let faer negative thoughts get the best of faer.

Because fae can’t help but notice how Logan had confessed to Remy before faer. And Remy had asked Logan out before asking faer out.

And Janus knows they both like faer! They’re all in a relationship! Currently cuddling together!

...Still stings, though. (Fae still feels a little like second place.)

“Janus?”

Fae looks up. “Yeah?”

“What do you think of asking Virgil to join our relationship the day after tomorrow when we do our Thing?” Logan asks.

“Sounds good,” Janus says, smile only a little forced. Fae put faer thoughts firmly aside and rejoins the conversation, enjoying the warmth and comfort of faer boyfriends beside and on top of faer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan frowns, tapping their foot anxiously a few times.

“Should we give him another few minutes?” They ask. “It’s already been fifteen.”

“I don’t think he’s coming.” Remy says.

“He’s hidden himself away for a few days before, but he’s never missed our Thing,” Janus points out.

“Yeah.” Remy frowns. “Wonder what’s wrong.”

“Me too,” Logan says.

“You think we should go ask him?” Remy asks.

Logan hums, considering it. If Virgil hadn’t come out for their Thing, whatever was keeping him in his room was serious. “Maybe give him another day or two.”

“Alright.”

Janus grimaces, tapping faer foot rapidly. “Do… do you guys want to do it anyway, even though Virgil’s not here?”

“No,” Logan says immediately, shaking their head.

“Me neither,” Janus sighs, slowing their tapping.

“Lo, I know you said to leave him alone, but do you think we could still give him a note or something?” Remy asks, frowning. “I’m worried.”

“I am as well,” Logan admits. “And I don’t see why not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil sighs and pulls his headphones off, unplugging them from his phone. His legs are a little achy, which is probably a sign he’s been sitting for too long and needs to stretch or something.

He wanders over to the pub table he’s got in the corner, thinking that could be a good spot to set his phone while he dances to music (no one’s around to judge him, it’s fun, and it’s a good way to stretch his legs, okay?).

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something white on the ground by the door. Crouching down to examine it, it looks like a piece of paper someone folded in half and shoved under the door. Frowning in confusion, he unfolds it.

“Hey, Virgil!” it reads. “It’s been a few days since you emerged from your room and we’re a little worried. Hope you’re alright! Missed you at the Thing today.” It’s signed by Janus, Remy and Logan, though scribbled to the side is the addition, “Apologies for Remy’s poor grammar. I hope you are well. -Logan”

Virgil’s brain latches onto “Missed you at the Thing today.” They’d done it without him? It was their Thing and they’d just excluded him? Had they only noticed he hadn’t left his room because he wasn’t at the Thing? Were they upset he wasn’t there? Like ‘where in the world were you; we had to do the Thing without you’? You aren’t a necessary part of the group, his brain whispers to him, but you bailed on them and they’re mad about it.

Virgil clamps his hands over his ears and plops to the floor. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, he tells his mind. They don’t hate me; they gave me a letter to check in with me while respecting that I might not want to come out and not wanting to force me to.

Really? Or maybe they just couldn’t be bothered to do more than shove a note under the door.

Shut up.

Virgil focuses on doing his 4-7-8 breathing method and firmly ignores his mind telling him his friends now hate him. When his breathing is finally steady and his brain’s stopped hissing poison, he slowly relaxes his muscles and takes his hands off his ears.

Your friends are still your friends, he reminds himself. They’re concerned about your wellbeing, not mad at you, and they still like you.

Platonically, his mind adds sourly. Virgil frowns at the thought.

So far his plan to get rid of his crush on Janus had only revealed his crushes on Logan and Remy as well. Turns out when you’re avoiding thinking about one friend you like, your mind will just go to your other two friends and present some shiny new ‘liking them as more than friends’ idea to you. Which is just more incentive to hide in his room as long as he can.

Virgil sighs, standing up and placing the note facedown on the table. He’s got the majority of a week before he has to face anyone, and even if he doesn’t feel like dancing anymore, he’s still got plenty to do to occupy his time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan knocks firmly on Virgil’s door.

“Virgil,” they call. “It has been five days since anyone has seen you outside your room. This has not happened before and we are all concerned. Please come out to ease our worries.”

No answer. They wait a full minute, their fist still half-raised from knocking, but still nothing.

“Move, please,” Remy says, inserting himself in Logan’s place as they step out of the way. He begins knocking loudly and quickly, barely a step down from banging. “Virgil! Get your pretty ass out here!”

No sign Virgil’s heard anything.

“Maybe he’s asleep?” Logan suggests.

“At 4PM?” Janus asks. “Virgil doesn’t nap and even a night owl like him doesn’t sleep in this late.”

Logan frowns. “Virgil is not an owl—”

“It’s an expression,” Remy explains.

“Ah.”

“Virgil,” Janus tries. “We’re all really worried. Please just open the door? You don’t even have to come out, just let us know you’re alright in there.”

They all watch the doorknob hopefully for a minute. When nothing happens, Remy sighs.

“I don’t think he’s comi—”

There’s a little shrsh of paper brushing against something as a post-it slides under the door. Janus snatches it up eagerly and the other two crowd beside faer to read it.

“I’m fine. Not coming out, sorry.”

Remy sighs again.

“At least we know he’s alright?” Logan offers.

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning against them. “I’m just worried, y’know? Just a post-it doesn’t really help.”

“I do know; I’m worried too. However, there is nothing we can do to get Virgil out of his room, short of forcing our way inside and dragging him, until he’s ready.”

“Yeah,” Remy says again.

“Wanna go cuddle until we all feel a little better?” Janus offers. Remy smiles softly.

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil scowls at his minifridge. It’s empty, the traitor, and he’s run out of all the food in his room. He has to go out and possibly encounter other people. A tragedy.

He leaves his room at midnight, of course. Less chance of running into people, plus then when Roman makes a comment about how “it’s nice to see you’ve finally emerged from your room” Virgil can laugh at his confusion when he tells him he came out of his room a while ago, princey, where’ve you been?

Less chance of running into people doesn’t equal no chance, unfortunately, and Patton is in the kitchen baking cookies when Virgil comes out to raid it. A weird time to be baking, but Virgil will probably get warm cookies out of it, so he doesn’t question it.

“Hey, Pat,” he greets.

“Hey, kiddo! Good to see you.”

“You too,” Virgil says, shooting him a finger gun. “Anything interesting happen while I was in my room?”

Patton hums thoughtfully. “Remus switched the sugar and salt and the flour and powdered sugar this morning. I borrowed the Lilo and Stitch DVD the other day and Roman and Remus got in a fight about whether or not Roman was hiding it from Remus. Logan stayed up all night on Tuesday and collapsed around lunchtime Wednesday. Janus found another snake in the Imagination and Roman had to steal it to return it home. Oh! Logan and Janus and Remy all got together.”

Virgil freezes. “Like, got together and talked like the four of us usually do?”

“Nope! In a relationship. About the time you hid away in your room, actually.” Patton giggles a little. “It’s been really cute; Remy and Janus carried Logan upstairs after his allnighter and they’re all very sweet together.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, trying not to sound hopelessly crushed.

“Virgil?” Patton asks, turning around to look at him. “You okay?”

He forces a smile. “Just peachy.”

Patton snorts. “I doubt that, but I won’t pry if you don’t want to tell me.”

“Thanks,” Virgil says, smile more genuine now. “Anything else to report?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” Patton says. “But if you like, I read a really good book the other day and I could share the plot with you?”

“Sounds good,” Virgil tells him, pushing himself up on the counter as Patton launches into a rambly explanation of the storyline. They pause in the middle to pull the cookies out of the oven, and then munch on them as Patton finishes the story.

“...And then it ends on a nice, hopeful, the-future-holds-great-things ending!” Patton concludes.

“Nice,” Virgil says, shooting Patton a little smile, who returns a beaming one. “Thanks for telling me about it.”

“Thanks for listening!” Patton returns.

“Do you mind if I…” Virgil gestures towards the cookies.

“Take as many as you like,” Patton tells him. Leaning forward conspiratorially, he adds, “If you take all of them and someone washes all the dishes, then the others won’t know there were cookies to have in the first place.”

“Thanks, Patton.”

Virgil scoops up the rest of the cookies—about a dozen or so—and bids Patton goodnight before heading back into his room. He gets a little resealable baggie to slide all the cookies into and sets it on his table.

Then, with nothing else to occupy his mind, he dwells over the fact that Janus, Remy, and Logan are all in a relationship.

Patton said they’d gotten together about the time he locked himself in his room. Had they noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be found and immediately gotten together? And then only given him the note and knocked on his door out of a sense of obligation or something? And maybe because they were mad at him for missing the Thing? They wouldn’t do that.

Would they?

He doesn’t think so.

He hopes not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What?”

“Hey, Janus, it’s okay! He’s probably just sleeping or something!”

“No, he doesn’t get to come out at midnight after he’s been in his room for a week and then not come out for breakfast or something so the rest of us can know he’s alive!” Janus fumes. Fae marches over to Virgil’s room and bangs on the door. “Open up before I kick the door down!”

Janus gives him three seconds before fae backs up, planning to kick the door down. Fae could do it. Fae’d seen an article online.

“Jay, honey, wait,” Remy says, putting a hand on faer shoulder. “I’m upset too, but I’m not going to kick his door down.”

“No, because I’m going to do it for you.”

“Can we not kick my door down?” Janus turns to see Virgil, standing half in his doorway, but still out of his room. Fae immediately drags him all the way out and into a hug.

“Only if you promise not to do that again,” fae tells him.

“Fine,” Virgil sighs. He half raises his arms, then hesitates.

“Hug me back, dummy,” Janus demands. Virgil chuckles a little and hugs faer. After a bit longer, Janus gives a final squeeze before releasing him, moving back a step and brushing faerself off. “That was because I missed you, but if you breathe a word of that to anyone I’ll prank you for a week.” Fae punches him. “And that was because you worried me, jerk.”

“Ow!” Virgil rubs his arm. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“Try not to sound too sincere now.” Fae crosses faer arms and rolls faer eyes.

“I really am sorry for worrying you,” Virgil says. “All of you,” he adds, looking over to where Remy and Logan had been silently watching their exchange.

“You’re forgiven,” Remy tells him. “If I get a hug too.”

Virgil shrugs loosely. “Sure.” He hugs Remy, then turns to Logan. They open their arms, and Virgil sinks into them. Janus steals another hug from Virgil once he pulls away from Logan.

“Sap,” Virgil teases.

“You can’t prove anything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things have… gone back to normal. Technically.

Virgil hasn’t hidden away for longer than a day again, and even then, it only happened once. They’ve kept doing their Thing every week or so, and to the outside observer nothing would appear different than it had been before.

But it’s… kind of like when one “cleans their room” by shoving all their stuff into a closet. The room may appear neat, but things haven’t been put in their place, just pushed to the side to be ignored.

Similarly, there seems to be a barely-there tension in their interactions with Virgil. Logan doesn’t usually notice it, but sometimes, in lulls of conversation or merely at random intervals, they’ll feel it, simmering under the surface of things. They don’t like it, both because tension, as a rule, is uncomfortable, and because they don’t know why it’s there.

They suspect it has something to do with why Virgil locked himself in his room for a week. He still hasn’t told them why he’d done it, shrugging off any questions or deflecting the conversation away from the topic.

They also think it probably has at least a little to do with the fact that Janus, Remy, and themself still have not informed Virgil of their relationship.

Virgil is smart, and very observant. He has almost certainly picked up on the fact that the three of them are dating. He is also the type of person to pretend he doesn’t know something if he feels it is being kept secret from him, and the type to internally question why information is being “withheld” from him, and assume it is something he has done.

Logan knows this, and has been pushing Janus and Remy to tell Virgil about their relationship. Janus and Remy think they should wait longer, give Virgil more time. The first couple of weeks after Virgil emerged from his room, Logan could excuse, because they’d been rediscovering their rhythm. But enough time has passed that they have all settled back into their rhythm and now they need to inform Virgil of their relationship and correct any misconceptions he most likely has over why they have taken so long to tell him.

To return to the bedroom comparison from earlier, Logan has never been one to shove things into a closet and proclaim a room clean. Everything should be put in its place and the only things to go in the closet should be things that belong there.

This weird tension and putting off informing Virgil of their relationship do not go in “the closet.”

So, a month after the week Virgil locked himself in his room, Logan opens the figurative closet door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re in a relationship,” Logan tells Virgil at one of their Things. Janus and Remy’s gazes both snap over to Logan warningly, but the cat is out of the proverbial bag and this has been a long time coming anyway. “Remy, Janus, and I.”

Virgil stares for a moment.

“Cool,” he says finally. “Congratulations.” And then, since he’s a petty jerk, “Since I locked myself in my room for a bit, right?”

The three of them exchange glances.

“Yes,” Janus tells him.

“How’d you know that, doll?” Remy asks.

“Patton told me.” Virgil half-shrugs. Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Saw your chance and took it, huh?”

Logan blinks. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s nothing,” Virgil says. If he tells them, they’re going to “correct” him, even if he’s right and they just feel bad about it.

“Um, no, that’s clearly not nothing, hon,” Remy sort of laughs, though his expression is serious. Virgil shrugs again, this time with both shoulders.

“Virgil,” Janus commands. “Tell us.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and tips his head back so he doesn't have to look at them. “I’m just saying, we’re all sort of a group, and you didn’t want to feel awkward with the three of you getting together and me not, so once you noticed I was out of the way, you took the opportunity and asked each other out.”

“No,” Remy corrects, because that is so far from what actually happened it might as well be on the other side of the planet. “That is definitely not what happened, V, dear.”

“Sure,” Virgil agrees, in a way that says he clearly doesn’t believe him but doesn’t want to fight over it.

“You think we, what—saw you locked yourself in your room and decided that was a good chance to exclude you?” Logan asks incredulously.

Virgil snaps and points at them. “That would be what happened.”

“That’s not what happened,” Logan insists.

“Look,” Virgil says, tilting his head up to look at the three of them. “You don’t have to lie to me to be nice or spare my feelings or whatever. I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” Janus tells him.

“Then explain it to me.”

“I realized how gay I was,” Remy explains. “Ran into Jan and Lo, asked them out, and we all got together. We decided to ask you at the next one of these Things we had, since that was the next time we were guaranteed to all be together alone. When you didn’t show up, we got worried but wanted to give you space, so we mostly left you be until Patton told us you’d come out and then we pulled you out of your room because we figured you were ready enough to come out.”

“And then, what, you just chose not to tell me you guys were dating for a month?” Virgil asks.

“We were trying to find a good time,” Logan tells him.

“It’s been a month; there’s been plenty of time,” Virgil snaps.

Then he stops, tilts his head to the side.

“Wait…” he says slowly. “Did— Did you say ‘ask me’? Like, ask me out?”

“Yeah, duh,” Remy replies.

“You guys like me?”

“I doubt we would hang out with you every week if we disliked you, Virgil.” Janus rolls faer eyes.

“You guys like me romantically?” Virgil amends.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Duh.”

Virgil curls himself up, burying his head in his knees as he processes this. Remy gently lays a hand on his knee.

“It’s okay if you don’t like us back, or only like one or two of us, hon,” Remy tells him. “But we’d like you to join our relationship, if you’ll have us.”

The knee starts trembling under his hand, and Remy realizes Virgil’s crying. “Oh, hon…” He gathers him up in a hug.

“I—I thought you were avoiding telling me because you didn’t want me to know,” Virgil stammers through his tears. “I thought you’d noticed I left and saw that as your chance to get together without me being around. I thought— I thought—” He starts crying too hard to talk.

Remy holds him, and Janus and Logan move over to them and help whisper assurances that no, they would never, that they love him so much and they’re so sorry it came to this. Their hands on his knee and back and Remy’s arms around him are bright spots of warmth that Virgil relishes.

He cries until he thinks he can’t, until one of them murmurs, “We’re here; we love you,” and sends him to fresh tears. He cries for an hour, at least, and when he’s truly sobbed out all the hurt over this inside him, the other three are still there with him.

“Sorry,” Virgil whispers, not fully trusting his voice.

Logan frowns. “What for?”

He gestures a little to the huddle they’re in. “Messing up this. Crying on you guys for like an hour.”

“You haven’t messed up anything,” Remy assures him. “And we’re happy to let you cry on us all you want.”

“Better than shoving your emotions down and ignoring them as they fester,” Janus adds.

“Yeah, I guess.” Virgil nods and scrubs at his face. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” Logan says.

“This might be a bad time,” Remy says, “and feel free to tell me off if it is, but does this mean you want to be our boyfriend?”

Virgil laughs, a little wetly. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

“Good,” Remy says. “We would, too.”

“Celebratory ‘we gained a boyfriend’ cuddles,” Janus declares, pulling them over to the bed. No one resists, and they cuddle until they fall asleep on each other.

#oh my gosh this is so long #I hope you like it casper!!#ts virgil #ts logan #ts janus #ts remy #ts patton #ts roman mention #ts remus mention #analosleepceit #my fics #my writing #nonbinary logan #nonbinary janus #umm i think that's it but lmk if i missed something #sanders sides

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