#his son working to not get attached because if he does it’ll hurt more than it already does..

[paunchsalazar]

Fire Emblem Awakening families in my play through…

[padfootastic]

H E L L O jfp-eyes pen (thats your new name btw)

i know its a little late but my mind keep going back to it and i also talked about a similar issue w several other people on here since and i was wondering if you can/want elaborate on what you said about this:

"like, u want potters to be desi? it’s not just the cute clothes and good food and linguistic differences u need to keep in mind. there’s so much more where it comes from, including several practices that will be considered highly objectionable by this rigidly judgemental crowd."

((i am v v interested but no pressure to answer this, i totally get if you dont want to get into this discourse))

dani—you’re gonna pull me into the desi potters discourse one way or the other, eh?

so. i’m not sure how much sense this’ll make because it’s like…half-baked thoughts but my problem with this scenario actually stems from a more macro, general trend i’m noticing in fandom behaviour. for some reason, puritan culture & veiled conservatism is coming back in the guise of progressiveness? and that’s leading to a lack of critical thinking in these spaces & randomly attributing buzzwords to things out of context bc u don’t have more than a shallow understanding of it.

which means that that comment was directed at a very specific subset of fandom that decided that idk ignoring the Bad Things & Flaws would somehow make them cease to exist. let’s only take the most ‘exotic’, fun aspects even if it’s a completely one dimensional reading & run with it. they wouldn’t be able to tell u what desi is beyond the barebones.

so, you’ll have people vehemently arguing that the potters can’t be anything but desi and white james is gross and i’m just like—why. why are u, as a non-desi person, so attached to this headcanon that you’ll ridicule real people for it? and then their attitudes as well. the incest thing, for example. there are communities in india that marry their first cousins—if i write a story tomorrow where james marries his mother’s imaginary brother’s daughter, then depending on how i HC him, that’s perfectly culturally acceptable (and desirable). if i write a story where euphemia and fleamont use corporal punishment for him, and he takes it super lightly and jokes about it, that’s also fine. (which is a direct contrast to how the western black family & sirius’ abuse is treated). there’ a community in india where the man ‘drinks’ from his mother’s breast, publicly, at his wedding to symbolise the last time he’d be her son before he becomes someone’s husband. another where a new mother can’t feed her son until her sister-in-law washes her breast thoroughly. caste is something that’s not even touched upon. it’s so complicated. but how do u think it’ll be received by most of the desi potter crowd if i actually do write any of this? will i be praised for my ~representation or called out on twitter for being a freak?

and that’s really where i get annoyed. the attitudes most of this crowd hold does not have any space for cultural subjectivity, what is ok to them has to be universally ethical. there’s no way other cultures do things their way and if they do, it’s barbaric/backward/problematic etc etc. pseudo-colonial, like i said.

(disclaimer: i want it to be made very clear i’m not demanding people nclude this stuff in their fics. i’m well aware of how escapism works, being the premier advocate for it. im just saying it won’t hurt to be mindful of these facts, that this is a whole culture that’s ridiculously diverse that doesn’t just exist for the sake of people’s headcanons)

and this isn’t even going into the cultural nuances of how desi families work. you can’t bring in american/european individualism & have james move out at 18 & write everything transactionally & do everything the way u would for a white character but only pay lip service when saying they’re brown ykno? when u say they’re a certain identity, there’s so much that comes with that. and if u don’t include any of that, then it really just makes me wonder why u want a brown james—feels like ego appeasement and falling to peer pressure half the time tbh.

another important thing for me is that so much of this crowd intersects with the ‘fandom is activism’ crowd and i just. fundamentally disagree with those people. and find their words/actions incredibly performative. by which i mean, the way they treat real people—people from the communities they’re adopting as HCs for their beloved characters. there’s this…hypocrisy, yeah? what i mentioned above, about how if i wrote some culturally different practice, i’d probably be attacked. they don’t want desi potter, they want white-lite potters that is palatable to & tailored for their own constitution but in a form that they can pass of as ‘oh look, my characters r diverse which makes me Morally Good and i can use that to shit on others’.

i think my problem is just that i don’t like it when people use the identity headcanons to portray themselves as being inherently better because they have ~equal representation. fandom is not a government institution—lateral visibility & membership is not a prerequisite to wanting to write about x and y fucking or going on a date or hugging or having a conversation. making a marauder group where each character—functionally an OC—is from a different community (often w/o considering how intersectionality works) for the sake of saying ‘oh i have a x in my HCs’ does not make u some radical leftist, yeah? and i strongly dislike people who pretend it does.

[ibijau]

Concubine nhs pt11 / on AO3

It is odd to exist in this little house and not have a purpose, Nie Huaisang decides a few weeks after being discarded. For three years his entire life has revolved around the emperor, his only wish being to distract him from his duties to make him happy. Now the emperor is miserable whenever he visits, and Nie Huaisang isn't allowed to do anything about that. Not when the emperor has made it very clear that he is now disgusted by the idea of any intimacy between them, and talking feels so awkward.

If he cannot kiss him, or please him in bed, if they cannot laugh or even talk, Nie Huaisang doesn't know what the point of everything is anymore. 

His days are emptier than ever. His nights no longer bring any comfort. Nie Huaisang is miserable.

Worse, Nie Huaisang is bored. A deep, insidious boredom that taints every moment he’s awake, that even pursues him in his dreams sometimes, or makes it impossible to sleep, denying him even that relief.

If he weren't so constantly bored, Nie Huaisang wouldn't have started checking those documents the emperor now brings with him when he visits. He’s perfectly aware that he shouldn’t do that all. It’s not his business, it’s politics, it’ll land him in trouble, but... 

But the emperor always falls asleep long before him, and always ends up in terrible positions in that stupid sofa, and half the time he forgets to use a blanket. Nie Huaisang has to make sure the emperor doesn't catch a cold. And then those documents are right there, and he's so bored. 

The books Lan Qiren sends him don't last as long as they used to, now that he doesn't have to stop reading them at night. They're also less interesting, at least those newest batches: treaties on how to analyse texts, or write essays. It's all so painfully boring that by comparison, official reports filled with numbers are pretty interesting. 

Nie Huaisang doesn't mean to read that stuff, it just happens. And the first time it happens, he stops as soon as he realises what he's doing. It's politics, and he's sworn to himself he'd never get involved in that. He scolds himself very hard that first time, and the second one too. Even the third time. But the fourth time… 

The fourth time is different.

The thing is, Nie Huaisang is pretty good with numbers. That's the reason why his father relented and finally recognised him. Nie Huaisang can't read the classics with ease because he’s still learning some of those less common characters. He values fun stories over respected ones, which isn’t what a real scholar could do. And he can't quite say what makes a good poem better than a bad one, he just likes them or he doesn’t. But he's quick at counting and has a natural knack for arithmetics. That's why his father put him in charge of organising banquets and overseeing finances, and he likes to think he saved them some good money in the time he held that duty.

So when he starts noticing discrepancies on those imperial reports, Nie Huaisang doesn't really think. He does what he would have done for his father, and writes down everything he notices. Because he doesn't quite understand what those reports are about, Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to guess why the numbers are wrong. He just knows that they are. So he leaves his notes on the table for the emperor to find when he wakes up, and hope that will be helpful.

He just so badly wants to be helpful. Maybe if he shows that he can still be useful, the emperor will start smiling at him again, or even talk to him.

Nie Huaisang just feels so lonely and bored. 

Later, when it is light again and he's alone in his little house, Nie Huaisang wonders if that was the right thing to do. Since nobody comes to drag him out of his cage to publicly whip him as an example to others, it can't have been wrong. But the emperor doesn't visit for a full three days after that, so maybe it wasn't right either. 

On the third day, the emperor's brother visits, and sheds some light on that long absence. 

"Brother has been given proof that the magistrate in the region of Yunping City was corrupt, and hindering the war effort," the prince explains, which might be the most Nie Huaisang ever heard him say at once. "Urgent measures had to be taken."

Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to ask, and stares at his glass of tea. That report he wrote notes on was definitely about Yunping City. It means he might have become involved in politics after all, against his will. As if he can afford to be making enemies, in his position. 

"Due to this situation, I will leave for Yunping City," the prince announces. "I will work with Lord Jiang to restore the situation. Consort Nie knows him?" 

"Only a little," Nie Huaisang meekly protests. "He is a friend of my father. This humble one knows his children a little, and his ward Wei Wuxian, but not that well." 

The prince nods, and takes a sip of tea. That should be the end of it. The prince never speaks much, and he’s just used more words than he usually does in an entire month. Surely he’s told Nie Huaisang everything he had to say on that matter.

Right?

"Jiang gongzi and Wei gongzi are to assist me," The prince explains, putting down his glass. "Will consort Nie tell me about them? I want to know what to expect." 

Nie Huaisang frowns at that request. 

"Surely there are many others in the palace who can tell you that? This one is only a humble servant's son, his knowledge is too imperfect to be useful." 

"Others can have their opinion," the prince retorts. "I wish to hear consort Nie's." 

A direct order from the imperial prince cannot be denied, least of all by a concubine fallen out of favour. Sick with worry at the prospect of being again dragged into politics, Nie Huaisang still does what he's told and gives as honest a portrait of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin as he can. He makes sure to point out their qualities, which are many, but also acknowledges their faults: Jiang Cheng's temper, Wei Wuxian's overconfidence, and the way they only really shine when they work together. 

It appears to please the prince, who thanks Nie Huaisang for his answers before taking his leave. He will write from Yunping City, he says, and might ask again for Nie Huaisang’s opinion in the future. 

"Please don't," Nie Huaisang begs. "This humble one is unworthy of such an honour." 

The prince doesn't reply, and Nie Huaisang is left alone to wonder if he's made another mistake. 

That night, the emperor visits again. He doesn't speak about those notes Nie Huaisang left him, though several times he stares at his concubine as if he were on the verge of saying something, only to change his mind at the last minute. His expression is so intense each time that Nie Huaisang ends up pretending to fall asleep just so the emperor will stop looking at him like that.

He takes notice of the fact that this time, the emperor brought a book with him, not reports. Nie Huaisang figures it's a message that his intervention, though perhaps useful, is resented. 

Nobody wants to owe anything to a mere concubine. 

After that one incident, life returns to normal. Or at least, as what passes for normal these days. 

Nie Huaisang is lonelier than ever. The emperor ignores him when he spends the night in the little house. The emperor's uncle, who was supposed to visit and find him a teacher, is too busy to do either due to having to take over some of the prince’s duties. And since that same prince is far away in Yunping City, even that last illusion of companionship has been torn away. 

Nie Huaisang is lonely. 

Nie Huaisang is miserable. 

So miserable, in fact, that he can't even rejoice when the aviary the emperor built for him is finally complete. Of course he puts on a smile when there is a banquet to celebrate this happy occasion, and plays perfectly his role of a cheerful concubine. He almost fools himself into feeling grateful and happy. Maybe he is happy, sitting again with the emperor, seeing him smile like this. It's easy to pretend, when Nie Huaisang so dearly misses how happy they used to be. 

But the next day, when he visits his aviary again, alone this time, Nie Huaisang only feels more depressed than ever. He wants to open every door to every cage, and let those expensive birds fly away. They all look as sad as he feels. But of course just like him, they probably wouldn't know how to survive outside a cage anymore.

If it were up to him, Nie Huaisang would never look at his aviary again. 

It isn't up to him. 

If he doesn't go, it will be noticed, he knows, just as it would be noticed if the emperor stopped coming to see him. If Nie Huaisang doesn’t check on his pretty new birds, people will say that the emperor spent a fortune spoiling a concubine who won't be satisfied with even the most expensive of presents. They will say the emperor is weak and foolish, or worse things even, and Nie Huaisang can't bear it. 

So he visits his birds daily. It is a punishment for fooling the emperor, for playing his father' s games. For being foolish enough to fall in love, when Meng Yao once warned him it is the one mistake a concubine should never make. At the time, Nie Huaisang hadn't understood. He does now. Being discarded would hurt so much less if he could only stop caring. 

But that's life now. Reading boring volumes selected by the emperor's uncle, spending time with birds he doesn't want, being ignored all night by the emperor himself. A new routine, much worse than the old one he used to have. 

A routine that finally shatters when one day, Nie Huaisang finds a stranger in his aviary, looking at his birds. 

Although there were many guests at the celebration to mark the completion of that aviary, the emperor made it clear that no one but Nie Huaisang, himself, and the servants attached to the aviary are allowed to come there. If the emperor were to have given permission to anyone else, he would surely have warned Nie Huaisang. And that boy's clothes are just good enough to make it clear that he cannot be a servant. 

He definitely is just a boy though, probably younger than Nie Huaisang by a few years. And yet there's a certain air to him, as if in spite of his youth, that boy knows more about life than some people much older than him. He just sounds so sad as he greets the talking birds. 

If that boy had been cheerful, or confident, Nie Huaisang could easily have chased him away. Happy people annoy him, when he has so little left to be joyful about. But seeing someone as depressed as himself makes his heart ache, reminding him how very lonely he is. 

Nie Huaisang watches that boy trying to chat with a pair of mynahs in a gentle voice that borders on hopeless, and comes to a decision.

"They're not very chatty," he says, startling the boy. "At least, not yet. I'm still working on teaching them to talk." 

The boy stares at him for a moment, then bows quickly and a little clumsily, betraying that he hasn't been trained for the imperial palace. Nie Huaisang remembers how he struggled as well when his father acknowledged him, when he came to the capital, and feels his heart swell again with sympathy. 

"Are you in charge of training them?" the boy hesitantly asks.

Since the emperor has made it clear that he no longer enjoys seeing Nie Huaisang covered in fineries, most of the time he dresses quite simply. It’s easier to put on, and it makes him feel a little less like a liar. He misses the fine silks and heavy gold sometimes, but plain clothes are more honest. Still, his clothes are only plain by comparison to the more extravagant outfits he used to wear for the emperor. Anyone glancing at him would take him for the privileged son of a great family… which he is, he supposes.

The point is, that boy must have already guessed that Nie Huaisang isn’t just one of the servants looking after the birds, so he doesn’t see any point in hiding.

"They're mine, actually," Nie Huaisang says, only to instantly regret it. 

The boy's eyes open wide, his face turning ashen before he falls to his knees and kowtow before Nie Huaisang, his entire body shaking with terror. 

"T-this humble one didn't realise! This humble one begs for your highness's mercy!"

Distressed by that strong reaction, Nie Huaisang takes a step back.

"I'm no highness."

"Your highness must be consort Nie!” the boy cries out. “This humble one never meant to intrude! This one knows no one is allowed here, but I really had to check, and… may his highness show mercy, though this one is undeserving!"

Nie Huaisang blinks. 

He knows, of course, that he's technically someone important. Servants are always very careful around him, and he has (had) the emperor's favour, which he could easily use to get his way, if he were so inclined. But since he lives in such isolation, and only leaves his little house for official occasions where everyone’s behaviour is strictly regimented by custom, it's rare for him to actually encounter anyone who might feel they owe him such open deference. 

He doesn't particularly enjoy it, he quickly decides.

"Please get up," he orders. "I'm guessing you came here by accident?" 

Refusing to stand up, the boy nods. 

"I was looking for my young master,” he explains in a pitiful voice. “I am a companion to a young lord called Ouyang Zizhen, and he escaped from me a little while ago when playing." 

The name Ouyang is familiar, but only vaguely. They might be related in some way to the emperor's late mother, though Nie Huaisang doesn't think the emperor is particularly close to them. Lord Ouyang is just closely related enough to be allowed to live inside the palace, but his son will likely not be allowed to remain there after his death. Anyway, the emperor rarely mentions them, and Nie Huaisang is pretty sure their son is a lot younger than this boy. 

Noble families like to bring in companions for their sons, as was done for the emperor, because they think it makes them look important.But sometimes what they really want is just a glorified nanny they don’t have to actually pay.

"What's your name?" Nie Huaisang asks. 

"This humble one is Mo Xuanyu." 

The name Mo doesn't ring a bell at all. They must be very minor in rank, or just rich merchants. Either way, people like that would take it as an honour to send one of their sons to the imperial palace, even if it’s just to serve an unimportant family. Being a young lord’s companion would give Mo Xuanyu the chance of a free education, at least if the family he’s serving treats him with any decency. They don’t always, as Nie Huaisang knows. The emperor complained about that sometimes, saying some families were very cruel to their sons’ companions.

But that was back when they would actually talk.

Nie Huaisang can’t remember when was the last time anyone talked to him.

He misses talking.

"Do you like birds, Mo Xuanyu ?" 

"Y-yes, your highness." 

"Me too. Do you know what species are here?" 

Puzzled by that question, Mo Xuanyu dares to look up as he shakes his head. Nie Huaisang grins, and kneels next to him, grabbing the boy's arm to force him back on his feet. It might be a mistake, but he’s been lonely so long, and Mo Xuanyu, in spite of his obvious fear, is actually talking to him.

Nie Huaisang wonders if that’s how the emperor felt that night, when he spoke to him with such insolence in the Unclean Realm. He quickly pushes the thought away. The situations are completely different, because Mo Xuanyu knows who he is.

"Do you want me to give you a tour?" Nie Huaisang asks.

After some hesitation, Mo Xuanyu shakes his head and bows away.

"I should really go find my master," he mumbles. "It's not that I don't want… I mean, this humble one would be honoured, those birds are all so pretty, and I really like… but I can’t, I have to…" 

"Duty calls, I understand,” Nie Huaisang replies. “But then, do you think you might come here again another day? I give you permission, so you won't get punished if you do. And then I can tell you more about the birds, if you’d like." 

Mo Xuanyu's expression is so funny as he eagerly nods, full of awe and wonder. Nie Huaisang almost laughs. 

He hasn’t wanted to laugh in so long.

He knows he probably shouldn't talk like this to a near stranger. He should be prudent, check the status of the Ouyang family, find out who the Mo are, and ask about Mo Xuanyu's reputation. But it has been so long since Nie Huaisang spoke to anyone, and he can't help the sense of kinship he gets when he looks at Mo Xuyanyu. They're the same, he can just tell: small and lonely, thrown into a world where they don't belong, forced to make the best of choices others made for them. 

But Mo Xuanyu shyly promises to visit the aviary again, and Nie Huaisang is happy. 

He hopes they can be friends.

[misslilli]

Happy Halloween guys 👻 and thank you so much for your feedback ❤️

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13 | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 40 - Christmas Break (6/?)

[ FM ]

I didn’t think it was possible for me to hate Diana more than I already do, but seeing our son like this, my disdain for her grows out of proportion. She used him for her own personal gain, to weasel her way back into our lives because of what? Boredom? Does she get up in the morning thinking today might be a good day to hurt someone’s feelings?

I sit up against the headboard and open my sheets for Felix to crawl into my lap, burying his face into my neck. I get many flashbacks to the very same situation and in this moment, he’s back to being a little three-year old boy unable to understand why.

Rubbing his back soothingly, his sobs stab my heart like a thousand tiny swords.

“Why… didn’t she… at least… say goodbye… Dad?”

“I don’t know, Felix… I’m sorry, baby!”

Nothing is worse for any parent than seeing their child hurt, I can’t do anything except sit here with him until he’s worn himself out. When he does and the tears subside, he sits up and glares at me indignantly, wiping at his cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m not a baby!” I can’t help the laugh escaping my lips and I wipe his other cheek gently.

“You’ll always be my baby, whether you’re three or thirty years old!” His face twists into a grimace at this information, but I can see that there’s a smile lurking somewhere in there. Looking down at his hands picking at a stray piece of lint on his pj’s, he talks more to the lint than to me, thoughtfully.

“We had such a good time, Dad, I thought you’d get back together this Christmas, I even made you guys hot-chocolate! Why didn’t it work? It worked so well with Miss Scully and I!” At the mention of Scully, I wince inwardly. Not only because I have to tell her what happened, but because Felix is so attached to her, I’m not sure if he’ll be happy to hear we’re dating or if it’ll be just another source of pain for him. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, right now, I need to make him see reason about his mother and I.

I think about it for a moment, choosing my words carefully. “Look, Felix. I get that you want us to be a family again, I really do. I’ve wished for the very same thing when I was little, for a long time. But your mom and I… we don’t work, and we never will, we’re just too different.” ‘And I hate her’, I add in my head.

Felix nods slowly, his face disappointed. “I just want to have a family again. I want two people to care for me, you’re doing a great job Dad, I just sometimes wish things were… different, like they are for my friends.”

I smooth a comforting hand over his unruly hair. “I know. Maybe someday, we’ll find someone who’d like to complete our family?”

“You mean like a step-mom?” He’s not too thrilled by this concept, apparently.

“Like someone warm and funny and caring, someone who’ll make both of our lives better. How bout that?”

“Huh… yeah I’d like that.” The hopeful eyes that shine up at me tug hard on my heartstrings. “Where do we find someone like that, Dad?””

—————

[ Felix ]

Grandma and Auntie Sam try their very best to distract me and make me feel better, I even get unlimited hugs from Grandma, which I take advantage of all day, clinging to her side when it’s finally time to open my presents.

I was really excited for Christmas this year, but this morning has really put a damper on my spirits, I don’t want to be sad on Christmas!.

Unwrapping my presents while eating cookies on the couch, getting crumbs everywhere, really helps - brings back some of my lost spirit!

My dad got me the coolest gift in the world, a rocket that we have to put together and we can set it off in our backyard! Awesome! I give him a big hug thanking him about a thousand times, he really is the best Dad in the world.

Grandma has given me socks (yawn - but they’ve got dinosaurs on it, so still kind of cool).

Auntie Sam hits it out of the park though, no pun intended, as she gives me a Disney gift card. At first, I’m confused.

“Auntie Sam, thank you, but what do I do with this? I’m way too old for stuffed animals, I’m already seven!” She gives me a nudge and laughs, shaking her head.

“Fe, that’s not just for any store, it’s for actual Disneyland. I’m taking you when you guys come visit me in LA in February!” I sit there stunned for a moment, staring at the gift-card in my hands.

“Wow! That’s awesome Auntie Sam, thank you so much!!” Sam deserves the biggest hug in the world I can give her and also an award and a medal for being such an amazing aunt!

The last gift left is the one from my mom and I turn it over in my hands several times, suddenly sad again that she’s not here to give it to me herself. After unwrapping it, I see that it’s a book, which would be a perfect gift because I really love books. But it’s one of those first readers books, the ones that have some pictures instead of words and huge letters.

“Huh. Doesn’t she know that I already know how to read proper books?” I give my dad a pointed look. “But not Harry Potter because I’m way too young for that!”

I hate the fact that Dad has forbidden me to read the book Miss Scully gave me for my birthday because I’m supposedly too young for it. Ugh. So unfair.

He just shrugs, a it-is-what-it-is kind of shrug and says “You should call your mom and thank her for the gift, Felix!”

“Ugh, do I have to?” I use my best whiny voice to get out of this phone call, I really don’t want to talk to her right now. Although, it might give me a chance to ask her why she left without a goodbye, but I’m so not good at confronting my mom.

My dad just place his phone into my hand silently and the look on his face tells me I better do what he says.

I close the door to my bedroom and flop down into my big armchair, I know Dad’s passcode by now because it’s his birthday and dial my mom’s number with a thumping heart.

“What the hell do you want?” I cringe at her hostile voice, that’s not a very nice way to pick up a phone!

“Mom it’s me…”

“Felix? Oh I’m sorry, I thought… I’m glad you called, did you get my gift?”

“Yeah, thank you, it’s a nice gift.” I pause for a while, picking at a stray piece of lint on my pants, almost not daring to ask the next question.

“Mom, why did you leave without saying goodbye?” There’s a sigh at the end of the line.

“I’m sorry Felix, your dad and I got into a big fight yesterday, a really bad one, and your Grandma kicked me out. I was so sad to leave this morning, I couldn’t bear to look at your face when I told you they made me go!”

What? They made her go? They ruined my Christmas? My throat is so tight right now I can barely speak, this is unbelievable.

“Listen Felix, I’ve got to hang up now, I just got a call from work and it might be important. But we’ll talk soon okay? Bye now.”

“Mh-hm okay. Bye mom!”

I’m confused, sad and a little lost at the same time, on one hand, I can’t imagine Dad or Grandma just kicking Mom out for no reason, on the other hand, she did just tell me they did and I think she wouldn’t lie to me. I have no idea who to listen to or who to believe anymore.

A name in the recent contacts list has caught my eye before though and I know exactly can help me out with this, someone I’m sure will be honest with me and who’s a pretty good listener.

I’m a bit startled when I press my finger on her name that a video call comes up and hope to God that I won’t get into too much trouble for this.

—————

[ DS ]

My family and I are gathered around the Christmas tree after the kids have opened their presents and we get a little bit of peace and quiet as they play with their new toys relatively quietly.

I jump in surprise when my phone buzzes in my pocket and I’m even more surprised that it’s Mulder calling me - it’s not anywhere close to 9pm. I wonder what he wants.

“I’ll be right back guys!,” my sister raises a confused eyebrow as I excuse myself from the gathering, taking the stairs two at a time to get to the privacy of my room. A little breathless, I pick up and have to smile, the only thing that’s visible on the screen is an unruly head of brown hair.

“Hey! You’re pretty early!”

“Huh? Early for what?” The puzzled face that belongs to the head of hair appears on-screen and I’m even more surprised than he is, it’s not my Mulder but his little mini-me.

“Felix??”

“Hey Miss Scully!” His small voice is a far cry from the usually outgoing kid who can’t talk quietly to save his life, which gives me pause.

“What’s wrong Felix?” He just looks at me for a moment, chewing his bottom lip, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry to call you like this, my dad will probably be really mad that I used his phone to do it, but I really need someone to talk to, is that okay? I know you’re a really good listener!” I settle back onto the bed to get more comfortable and nod at the solemn face staring back at me.

“Yeah, of course. What’s on your mind?”

He tells me the story of what happened the past few days and this morning and it breaks my heart into a million pieces to hear the sadness in his voice and the confusion. It makes me want to hug him so hard to help him ease the pain, but of course, I can’t, I’m a few hundred miles away right now. So all I can do is listen and ask a few questions here and there.

“What do you think I should do, Miss Scully?,” he asks at the end of his story.

“Do you think your dad would lie to you if you asked him about it?” Will he tell me the truth when we talk? Because I have a lot of questions for him myself.

“No, I don’t think so. He doesn’t lie to me.”

“Okay, then you go and ask him, I’m sure you’ll feel better once this has been cleared up! I know it’s hard but you can do it, you’re Felix the Brave after all!” That one gets me a small smile from the little boy and he nods resolutely.

“Mhkay, if you say so, it must be true huh? Thank you so much Miss Scully, I knew you would help me! And please don’t mention this call to Dad, he’ll be sooo mad at me!”

“Sure, it’ll be our little secret. Good luck, Felix, and Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Miss Scully!”

As the screen goes black again, I stay seated on my bed for a while, lost in my thought. What the hell happened last night? I’m trying my very best not to imagine the worst case scenario in my head.

I guess I’ll find out tonight if he brings the most important quality I’m looking for in a man’s character to the table: Honesty..

[literaryfic]

singer!cha-young & violinist!vincenzo au pt.2

park ju-hyung is abandoned in a South Korean orphanage when he’s 7.

he gets adopted by an Italian couple, the Rossis, who want nothing more than to be parents. they’re older, but kind and patient with him. he misses his mom at first, has a hard time adapting to Italy, the language, the food, the people. everything is new and scary. but they’re here every step of the way, consoling him after a nightmare, holding his hand through a difficult night. 

ju-hyung is nothing if not resourceful and intelligent, and he works hard to become vincenzo rossi. he learns Italian quickly, eager for people, for his new family, to accept him. he wants to make sure to become the perfect son, a child no one would think to abandon. 

his adoptive parents sign him up for violin classes when he’s eight. they’re big classical music fans and they want to share their passion with him. he loves the way they look at him when he plays, they seem proud. so he tries hard.

turns out vincenzo is exceptionally good at violin. so much that people start calling him a prodigy. by the time he’s 10, the Cassano Fondation notices him and they become his patrons. he gets homeschooled, but really he just has private tutoring after his day-long violin lessons.

he spends his days at the Fondation, surrounded by teachers, coaches, older students. he’s the youngest there, and he doesn’t get much interactions with people his age. he doesn’t mind, he’s not very social anyway. he might be young but he understands the disdain in some adults’ eyes, he hears the slurs they direct at him from their children’s mouths.

his only friend is Luca, the son of his parent’s cleaner. he’s two years younger than him, immature and childish, the way a kid their age should be, but vincenzo doesn’t mind. he likes playing catch with him when no one’s looking (“be careful not to hurt your hands, vinny. a musician’s hands are just as important as his heart.”, his father had said.) . he likes how carefree and bright Luca looks when he’s playing with his little cars. they hang out on sundays, the only afternoon where vincenzo doesn’t have lessons.

of course, he wins every competition he enters. his audition tapes are played to students 5 years older than him. people gather at the windows of his private classroom at the Fondation.

when he’s 15, he’s getting ready to start his career as a soloist when his adoptive parents die tragically in a car crash. his parents, the people who’d wanted him when no one else did, had left him. he’d been abandoned once again, twice an orphan.

everything happens so fast. he inherits his family’s massive fortune, and Fabio’s the Fondation head, decides to adopt him. he becomes vincenzo cassano. in 15 years, he’s had three different names, three different identities. he doesn’t know who he is, really, but he knows what he can do: play the violin.

and he does, and he takes the classical world by storm, a sensation unlike anything they’ve seen before. he’s praised for his technicality as much as his interpretation, his performance skills mature beyond his young age.

what they don’t see is him rehearsing ten hours a day for years, without a break. vincenzo cassano doesn’t do days off, apparently. he loses himself in his music, in his art, lets it consume him so that ju-hyung, vincenzo

he travels the world, plays in a different country almost every month. he doesn’t have to think about who he is and where he belongs when he plays, he can just focus on the notes, on the emotions the pieces he plays evoke. 

some might think that vincenzo loved his career as a world class violinist because he was considered one of the best to ever play, a genius admired by all and a forgotten by none. others might believe he simply loved music. they’d be all wrong. he couldn’t care less about fame, recognition and glory. vincenzo played the violin because for a short moment, when he stood on stage, he disappeared. all eyes might have been on him, but vincenzo felt invisible, the music he created hiding him from the world. 

at 33, he’s accomplished everything there is to accomplish, played with every orchestra, every conductor, has interpreted every piece. he’s released 6 albums, two of them winning a Grammy for Best Classical Music Album, has one three Grammy’s for Best Classical Instrumental Solo and is the best paid soloist on the circuit. 

vincenzo cassano is tired, drained and empty. he’s given everything he had to give, and music isn’t enough anymore. he wants to live a life away from people now, on his own. but first, there is something he needs to do: find his biological mother. 

he had started therapy a year ago, not by choice. luca and his agent, mateo, all but forced him to go. “it’ll do you some good to talk about what goes on in there. there’s no shame in going.”, luca had tried. “if you don’t go, i’m cancelling all your performances for the next year.”, mateo had had the last word. 

he had discussed his adoption and the anger he arbored towards his biological mother with his therapist, and had concluded that he should try to have some closure. he needed to know why she left him, what made her decide he wasn’t good enough. six months ago, he’d hired a private investigator based in Seoul to search for her. a month later, he had a name and an address. Geumga community center, where she apparently teaches the violin. 

after he learns that his biological mom is a violin teacher, vincenzo feels sick every time picks up his instrument. he’s forced to stop playing, to stop performing, to stop disappearing. anger runs in his veins, underneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any time. 

“Vincenzo Cassano announces retirement from the music scene, world mourns his absence already” “Vincenzo Cassano is retiring because of mental health issues, insiders reveal” “Is Vincenzo Cassano retiring because he’s not the best anymore?” 

he flies out to Seoul on a whim, without telling his team or Luca. he books a 5-star hotel a few subway stations from the community center. he’s given himself a week. a week to confront his mother, to close this chapter. 

he never makes it to the community center. instead he walks around Seoul, head low. people recognise him, which he didn’t expect. although he feels no particular attachment to his motherland, South Koreans are very fond of him. how could they not, when one of their compatriots is the best violinist in the world? over the years he’s had a few interviews in South Korea and has donated to some local charities. although most of it was orchestrated by his management team, people seemed to love him and his name meant something here. 

the closer he gets to going to his mother’s workplace is a small restaurant right in front of the community center. he’s not used to korean food anymore, but he enjoys it. the place is empty until one man, probably around 55 years old, sits right in front of him. “a bottle of makgeolli, please!” he asks the owner. 

“can i help you?” vincenzo says, surprised someone would dare to sit at a stranger’s table. “mmh. why have you been hovering past the Geumga community center for a week?” 

“hovering?”, vincenzo scoffs, “i don’t think this is any of your business, sir.” 

“it is since i work there. are you ms.oh’s long lost son or something?” vincenzo spits out his water. 

[loxare]

More inadvisable late night Untamed fic. I have a lab in the morning......

Based on the personality swap AU @valdrift drew

The thing about Zidian was, it didn't require a particularly strong cultivator to wield it. Not anymore. Generations of Yu cultivators had filled it with all the power it needed to be a devastating force even in the hands of a weak cultivator. What Zidian truly required in a wielder was the finesse and strength of will to only every hit what was aimed at, and a proper temper. The former could be taught, but the latter needed a solid foundation, a soul that was inclined towards thunderous indignation as the only warning for lightning strike fury.

And so, when Yu Ziyuan needed to choose one of her children to inherit her deadliest weapon, she chose Jiang Yanli.

Jiang Cheng had the core to be truly devastating with Zidian, and he would have done well with it, but he was a mischievous boy, far too easy going, and wouldn't know a slight against him if it slapped him in the face. He was quick enough to anger if someone insulted his sister, and indeed Ziyuan had had to mediate several disagreements caused by Jiang Cheng verbally or, on one memorable occasion, physically assaulting Jin Zixuan. Never mind that his sister was more than capable of verbally assaulting Jin Zixuan herself. The rest of the time, anger slid off his back like water off of a lotus leaf. Even at the tender age of nine, Ziyuan could see that her son would never have the temperament necessary to wield Zidian properly. Perhaps in short bursts, if needed, but he would never truly master it. Not like Yanli would.

The eldest child of the Jiang sect held a fury in her that can only have come from her mother. And why not? As the eldest child of a great sect, she should have everything. But the archaic rules her father insisted on enforcing prevented her from inheriting her rightful position as sect heir, instead condemning her to a life of power borrowed from her future husband, in a sect that would never appreciate her talents. It had been the best that Yi Ziyuan had been able to secure for her daughter, and it would never be enough. Jiang Cheng would inherit, and he would flourish as sect leader, Ziyuan was proud to say, but the knowledge that she would never stand in that lofty place would always weigh her daughter down. And her daughter raged under the weight.

And so, a mere two weeks after Fengmian brought that whelp of a street child into their home, Ziyuan started training her daughter in the use of Zidian.

And in the hands of Jiang Yanli, the whip roared.

A week after Jiang Yanli's twelfth birthday, her father brought home a dirty pile of rags. Those dirty rags turned out to be a boy, a quiet, shy boy who spent most of his introduction to the Jiang children hiding behind her father's robes. Even after a warm bath and a hesitantly eaten hot meal, there wasn't much of him. He seemed to be trying to make himself smaller and smaller. If he could have sunk into the floor, Jiang Yanli was sure he would have. Jiang Yanli scoffed, and went to bed that night thinking that he would be run out of the sect in a week.

It didn't take nearly that long. Jiang Cheng barged into her room in the middle of the night, bawling his eyes out. It took Jiang Yanli pinching him on the thigh to shock him out of his tears enough to tell her why he was crying. "I was sad about Princess an' Jasmine an' Love an' I yelled at Wei Ying and now he's go-o-o-one!" And with that, he started crying again.

Jiang Yanli would have left it at that. Wei Ying didn't want to be here. That was clear enough. All her other shidis had been nervous when they'd arrived, but twenty minutes with Jiang Cheng had them forget their nervousness and by the end of the day, they had opened up and were running and laughing with the other disciples. Wei Ying had been in Jiang Cheng's presence for an entire evening and he had still kept himself separate and small. If he didn't want to be a Lotus Pier disciple, Jiang Yanli was very ok with letting him run off.

Except.

Her baby brother was crying.

Jiang Yanli was not a comforting person, in general. Too sharp, too quick to anger, incapable of seeing things from other people's perspectives, or at least, incapable of doing so with the ease her brother had. Sometimes an arm wrapped around her brother's shoulders, the one thing she knew worked more than it failed, was enough to stop his tears, but she could tell that in this case, it wouldn't even come close. Which meant she had to remove the source of his tears. So she stood up, dropped her quilt over her brother's head, and said, "Stay here dummy." Then she grabbed a lantern and headed out.

Wei Ying's tracks were easy enough to follow and ended at a hollow under a downed tree's roots. The light of the lantern reflected off Wei Ying's pale face. "What are you doing under there?"

"Ah. Well." It was the first time she had heard his voice. Soft and gentle, like a fall rain. "Jiang Cheng told me to go away."

Wei Ying was too deep for her to reach him. Which meant she needed to convince him to come out. Ugh. "And you listened to him? If you do that he'll get a swelled head. An even more swelled head. A-Cheng says a lot of stuff, and if you listen to everything he says you'll start believing that water ghouls sleep under the docks and lotus pods taste better with the stems still attached."

"Do they?"

"No. A-Die wouldn't let ghouls anywhere near the docks, and lotus pods taste the same whether the stem is long or not."

"Oh." Wei Ying fidgeted. "He told me to go away. That if he saw me again, he'd set his dogs on me."

"Dogs he doesn't even have anymore, thanks to you." Wei Ying flinched at her words, and Jiang Yanli winced. Well she'd already started digging this grave. "So he couldn't set them on you if he wanted to. And since he was just in my room crying about scaring you off, I don't think he wants to."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He was just sad cause his dogs are gone. He didn't mean what he said. Now get out here so we can walk back and he can tell you all of this himself."

There was a shuffle. "I hurt my ankle when I was running. That's why I crawled in here."

Jiang Yanli sighed. "Well come out here so I can carry you back, and then a-Cheng can tell you all of this."

There was another shuffle, and then Wei Ying's face appeared between the roots of the tree. Dirty again, like they hadn't just given him a bath. She gave him the lantern to hold and loaded him onto her back.

In the end, Wei Ying didn't have to wait until they got all the way to Lotus Pier to hear Jiang Cheng's apology, because he had followed them, when Jiang Yanli had expressly told him to wait for her! And he'd hurt his knee falling into a ditch. He gave Wei Ying a blinding smile when he saw him and tried to climb out of the ditch in his excitement and then almost hurt himself worse. Which meant Jiang Yanli had to carry both boys home, which meant she was angry enough to burst when she finally got there. As such, instead of heading to the rooms, she went to the kitchens for some late night cooking. Setting things on fire always calmed her down.

She set Jiang Cheng carefully on a chair, then turned around to put Wei Ying on the one next to it. And she washed the dirt off of her hands, set a basin of water and a spare medical kit on the table between the boys, and turned to do some cooking.

In between dry frying spices, blanching pork ribs, and chopping lotus roots, she listened to the boys talk. It started with a hiss as Jiang Cheng wrapped Wei Ying's swollen ankle. Then, "Does she hate me?"

"A-Jie? No. Why would she hate you?"

"She seems mad..."

Jiang Cheng snorted. "That's just Jie. She's always mad. Even when she's happy, she's a little bit angry."

"Oh." More silence, then, "Want me to clean your cut? I'm pretty good at it."

"Ok!" Jiang Yanli looked over just in time to watch Jiang Cheng happily push the cloth into Wei Ying's hands and prop his leg up on Wei Ying's chair so he would have easy access.

For another few minutes, the only sounds were the boiling of the soup, the quiet, indrawn breaths of Jiang Cheng, and the splash of water as Wei Ying rinsed his cloth. He reached for the bandages, but Jiang Cheng pushed the salve towards him. "This first, then bandages. It'll help it heal faster."

Wei Ying put a little of the salve on his fingers, staring at it wonderingly. Then he applied it just as gently as he had cleaned the wound.

Once the bandage was wrapped and secured, Jiang Cheng pulled his leg down, bending the knee to test it. "Wow, you're really good at that! Where did you learn?"

"Ah. Sometimes dogs would attack me if they thought I had food. I had to clean out my injuries very thoroughly or they got infected."

Jiang Yanli paused in ladling her soup. A-Die hadn't said anything about that when he'd taken Jiang Cheng's dogs away. She put the bowls on a tray and carried it to the table. "Eat."

"Yay! Thanks a-Jie!" Jiang Cheng grabbed a bowl and started slurping like the ill mannered cretin he was. Jiang Yanli hid a fond smile.

Wei Ying hesitated, not picking up his spoon until Jiang Yanli put the soup bowl in front of him as hard as she could without spilling any. "I said eat. What, is my soup not good enough for you?" And then she cursed herself, because Wei Ying was doing that making himself smaller thing again. Desperate, she stared at Jiang Cheng until he got the hint, hating herself for having to lean on him like this.

Jiang Cheng just grinned and wrapped an arm around Wei Ying's shoulders. "Jiejie's angry soup is the best. You just don't know that cause you haven't tried it yet." He nudged the bowl closer in an unsubtle hint. When Wei Ying still didn't eat, he pulled back, using his grip on Weo Ying's shoulder to turn him so they were facing each other. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I just..." Wei Ying's shoulders curled in even more. "I don't want to get used to it. Every time I thought I would get to stay somewhere, it hurt more when I got kicked out."

Jiang Yanli's grip on her spoon tightened. "What do you mean by that?"

Wei Ying shifted uncomfortably. "Well the lady who ran the book store let me sleep on the floor of the shop for a few days once, and she fed me lots of good food, but then someone broke in and kicked me in the dark, and I screamed, and... turned out there had been a bunch of robberies and she just wanted some extra security. She kicked me out once they'd caught the guy. And the guy at the inn let me stay in exchange for helping clean the place up, but then when the party of nobles had been expecting arrived, he kicked me out too. And others. So I don't know why I'm here, but I don't want to get used to it so it'll hurt less when I have to leave."

"No!" Surprisingly, it wasn't Jiang Cheng who shouted. He was still staring slack jawed at Wei Ying. It was Jiang Yanli who stood, indignation flooding through her. "You aren't getting kicked out!"

"That's right! Weren't you listening to a-Die? He said you were going to live here and be our new brother!" Wei Ying still seemed hesitant, so Jiang Cheng added, "That means you have to stay here forever and eat a-Jie's soup and learn cultivation with me, unless you can't in which case you need to learn how to be my second for when I inherit the sect. Those are the rules. The most important being the stay here forever bit."

"You mean it?" Wei Ying looked up at them, still wary, but hoping.

Jiang Yanli pushed the soup closer to him again. "We mean it. I don't cook for people I don't like. Now eat your soup."

And then, for the first time, Wei Ying smiled, and it lit up the room like sunrise breaking over the lake. "Ok!"

And Jiang Yanli felt a blow to the place in her chest where she hid her love for her brother, a blow like something, or someone, making a home there. And she thought, Oh no, and she thought, Oh we are definitely keeping him, and she thought I will protect him forever.

She looked over at her baby brother - one of her baby brothers, she thought with a thrill of... something - and saw the exact same sentiment on his face.

Jiang Yanli finished eating her soup and then she took her brothers' bowls to the sink for washing in the morning. And then, she took her brothers, new and old, to their room for bed.

[ayellowcurtain]

I can be your lover

Part 6

“I'm not sure if I should go…” Robbe says in an attempt to be reassured that it'll be fine. Nobody says anything but the awkward silence is a clear sign that they’re thinking. He looks around and nobody is as confident as he would like them to be.

“You two can't be in a room and not make out?” Milan asks with a smile on his face and Robbe knows he's asking to be annoying.

"Shut up.”

“No?!” He looks at Senne for support for his quick negative answer and the three laugh at Robbe's face. Zoe stops putting powder on her face and looking at her reflection in the mirror and turns her body around, looking at Robbe there, leaning against the bathroom door frame. They all look at each other like they’re talking inside their thoughts and Robbe is not invited.

"They're not completely wrong…” She finally says and Robbe whines, stepping back into the hallway, turning to one side to press his forehead against the white painted wood of Zoe’s and Senne’s bedroom door,

"But we'll be there with you! By your side all night long to keep you from jumping him.” Zoe reassures him, finally but Robbe doesn’t believe them anymore. He looks around again and they clearly still doubt any of that will work.

"We will?!” Senne frowns so hard he almost creates a deep and lasting crease in his forehead.

"What?!” Milan asks, outraged.

“Yes, we will. I'll even ask for Jens’ help.” Zoe claps her hands, excited with her plan and Robbe can't believe they actually think he needs that many people to keep him from making a scene, from letting it show how much Sander still affects his mood and overall behavior.

It's been years since they've last seen each other in person. Robbe thinks he learned to control himself a little better with all this time. It's not possible that he's a twenty-something man that doesn't have any control when his first - and only - boyfriend is around at a party, with all the people they know around, possibly keeping them apart for the whole night.

He doesn't know anything about the Sander he's about to see again, he might be a completely different person, someone who Robbe is not at all attracted to anymore. Everyone else still talks to him occasionally so all this worry and doubt makes Robbe think Sander might be even better and consequently more irresistible.

Zoe kicks the other two out of the bathroom once she's done with her make up and needs a quick pee before leaving her and Senne's home. She invited Robbe and Milan to join the pre game and when Robbe got there, he still wasn't sure if he was going to the main event anyway. He just wanted to hang out with them for a few hours, to try to discover if they knew if it was certain that Sander was going to Noor’s party too.

“Tell me, what are you worrying about?” Zoe asks as she pushes her underwear down under her long, vintage looking dress, sitting down to pee but still looking at Robbe, hoping he’ll explain it to her while watching her pee like it’s normal. Apparently women are comfortable peeing in front of him. Robbe sighs, not sure where to stand, deciding to sit on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his face over and over with both his hands.

“Everything and nothing at all. He might very well look at me and have zero reactions or he can look at me in a judgy way that’ll make me remember how I was the one to ruin us and then it’ll be weird, I feel stupid for going and guilty and like everyone is staring at me, taking his side.”

He looks up at her, anxious, finding her surprised by how much thought Robbe has put into the possible scenarios he came up with by himself.

“...You’re being a little too dramatic.” She laughs softly, and Robbe bites his already short nails, looking at her, exhaling a long breath with the recognition from someone else that his emotions are making the possibilities worse than the reality will actually be at the party.

“How do you think it’ll go? Honestly!”

Zoe sighs, washing her hands and drying them, leaning against the counter to look at Robbe still sitting on the bathtub, squeezing the border to ground himself to pay attention to what she might say.

“I have no idea, Robbe.” She bites the inside of her bottom lip and Robbe waits for whatever it is to come that’s making her think twice about telling him, “You never really told me what happened in that last fight between you two…”

It’s been over a year since that last conversation on the phone but Robbe is pretty sure he remembers how it went with details like it was today. It’s his fault, sure, but he never thought they would have an actual fight, ever, not even when they were just friends before all of this.

Robbe had, again, no right to be upset or angry about what Sander was or wasn’t doing back at his new home, with his new friends and lovers. They never had a settled deal but Robbe thought it was obvious that he wasn’t going to be happy to see Sander with other people, no matter if it was the “no strings attached” bullshit. He was going to try and keep a straight face and not let it affect their friendship.

No matter if they were never actually fully together, Robbe was going to be jealous because that’s what he does when it’s about Sander. After so many years knowing each other, Robbe had in his mind and his heart, after everything they experienced until their first kiss, that Sander was the person that was made for him in this never-ending universe, no matter if that ever became a reality or kept as his private fantasy.

And Sander kept taking his hurt as a joke, as just a way of teasing Robbe, and that it would go away. It didn’t. Robbe was having a bad day that day, and he wasn’t feeling like hearing Sander’s tasteless jokes. He asked to change the subject, Sander was probably tired of the grey relationship they were having for over a year at that point and he was being mean right back at Robbe.

"I was too deep inside my insecurities. I couldn't keep my mouth shut and I had to tell him that I really liked him when he was about to leave, didn’t I? And then I constantly kept us at a distance while he was gone because it was the safer option, and he saw it and for some time he was okay with it, was letting life happen or whatever but I guess I was in a bad mood that day and he was tired at that point, and he kept making jokes about me not going to visit him and being jealous of what he could be doing there. And I got mad and he got mad because of it. He probably thought it would be fine in a few hours but I blocked him everywhere. And that was that. Now he's here and I wish I could hide and pretend I never acted like a 5 year old."

Zoe nods her head while hearing his rant, frowning a little bit, and she tries not to laugh at his desperation and Robbe slips to sit inside the bathtub, wishing he could stay there instead of going to a party that Sander will also go to.

It’s not like Zoe has anything to say to him after that and Robbe doesn’t wait for it. She helps him get out and hugs him tight, saying they’ll have a good time tonight.

He doesn't have a chance to decide if he wants or not to go through a night full of shame. Zoe and Milan drag him back home a few streets down Zoenne's place and Senne grabs some of his clothes in his closet and pushes against Robbe's chest for him to go change so they can go already. It's not at all an outfit Robbe would pick - seems too formal for him - but they're running late and even though Robbe doesn't want to go, he sees himself rushing when Milan says he has five more minutes. He looks at himself in his bathroom mirror and grabs his toothbrush to brush his teeth quickly.

Britt and Noor's place is on the other side of town - a much more artistic and hippie neighborhood - and the ride there is a little too fast to calm his nerves, squished against Milan in the backseat of Senne's sports car.

“What if he's like, married with a baby? Or if he hates me?” Robbe asks after pushing himself out of the black hole that is Senne's backseat, just between him and Zoe while the other two are still on the other side of the car.

She smiles fondly and tries to make his shirt look a little less wrinkled.

“He's not and I'm sure he can't hate you, it's impossible.” Robbe sighs because Zoe is his very good friend and would never tell him otherwise, "His hair is bleached again though.”

It's Robbe's turn to frown, surprised, his heart starting to beat even faster right away, “Why would you tell me that now?!”

“So you wouldn't be too surprised! You would give everything away the second you saw it anyway.”

"God, Zoe…” Robbe complains, letting the conversation die while Senne and Milan finally come to their side so they can cross the street.

He looks back and there are only a few cars parked close to Senne's and a vintage motorcycle. It has to be Sander's…

Robbe lets everyone go inside the building first, the elevator too and he's the last one on the line to get inside when Noor opens the door. He feels extremely embarrassed when she looks at him expectantly, hugging him tight like a mom that's hugging a son that just lost a very easy game. Like Robbe needed any more proof that this is going to be a disaster.

He walks inside carefully like he's walking into a minefield, trying to see where someone is without being seen right back. His safety net is gone, dissipated to go talk to different people as soon as they were all inside. So much for staying glued to his sides all night long.

Sander is across the room, in a corner, talking to some of Noor's friends that Robbe doesn't know very well. Once he's been localized, too busy to notice Robbe - or not caring enough that he's there - Robbe tries to calm himself down, look around the place to find someone to talk to. He feels like he's being watched but he can't bring himself to double check, scared of meeting eyes he’s trying to avoid.

Sander's hair is really bleached again like Zoe said it would, a little longer than what Sander usually likes or used to like. Maybe he changed his mind about his hair preferences too during the past years. Robbe likes it like this, softer and longer, with the dark roots peeking.

“Did you see who's here?” Aaron whispers in his ear and Robbe jumps, rubbing his hand over his ear to get rid of the tickle Aaron's breath created.

“You scared the shit out of me…” Robbe accepts the beer Aaron is offering him, with the same expecting eyes everyone seems to be giving Robbe tonight, “Yes, I have seen him.”

Aaron wiggles his eyebrows, sipping on his beer, “Did you two talk already?”

Robbe opens his beer, so tempted to just take one more look at the far corner on the left.

“No. There's nothing to talk about, Aaron.”

Robbe looks everywhere his eyes can reach without moving his body or head drastically. His anxiety is quickly building inside of him, quicker than he expected so he drinks a little more of his beer, unable to keep his mouth from going dry instantly after every sip.

It’s like his body and brain are fighting to decide what to do or to contain the other from deciding what to do. Robbe can’t think coherently and can’t move much, afraid to be caught doing something, anything. Anything feels like he’s doing something illegal at this point.

Aaron finally stops talking about whatever he was talking about and Robbe turns around, looking at the floor, wanting to go out to the balcony to see if he can breathe more easily there but he crashes into someone and he doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

“I was looking for you.” Sander smiles at him and Robbe stutters, not sure why Sander would be looking for him ever again.

“Hi…”

[nanachingu]

Drama Review: In Family We Trust (2018) (Thai Drama)

My first Thai drama review is coming from In Family We Trust (2018). First, let me tell you how I found this drama and decided to binge-watching it. I often see this title when I scroll Netflix but never trying to watch it till someone attach me. My whole reason to start this drama is Thanapob Lee or we can called him Tor. He’s one of the main actor in this drama and I love him in his next drama Hua Jai Sila (2019). I think his acting in that drama is really good, he’s perfect potraying his character so I want to find out his another project. To be honest, before this drama I already see him in several movie like Ghost Lab and May Who? and shockingly he’s cameo in the end of The Stranded (Netflix series) but I don’t have any idea that it’s him all this time. Really Hua Jai Sila make me open my eyes and make me found this worth-watching drama.

So here I am ready to review this family drama with a touch of mystery and plot twist story that you can find it in Netflix. When I see the title, I already familiar with that name like I think I see this a lot when I scroll Netflix and just need like 3 days to finish this!!! This is one of my favorite genre, I’m weak with family drama and really love with plot twist story. Because this is a family drama, of course there are so many character in this drama. They’re of course a big family, Jiraanan family. Grandpa or called A-goong and Grandma we called A-ma have 5 children (but we only see 4 children in this drama) and of course their children have their family too.

So in the beginning of the story, we’ll be seen that each of Jiranaan family are get along with each other well and prepared to celebrate their A-goong birthday. A-goong and A-ma eldest son is Prasoet, followed by another son called Mate, and they have a daughter called Phatson, and the youngest son is Konkan. I think they have another child that already passed away because we can see one grandson that live together with A-goong and A-ma. Of course their sons and daughter have child too, so the family become much bigger. Let’s see the family tree first so we didn’t confused.

From the left, the son is Prasoet (Songsit Rungnopakunsi) and right beside him are his wifes. The one in the right is Cris (Sopitnapa Chumpanee) and their son is Pete (JAYLERR). This is the family that he brought into Jiraanan family.

Little does his family know, he had another son with another women who claimed to be his girlfriend in college. His another wife is Nipha (Apasiri Nitiphon) and his son Chi (Ice Paris). From the picture below, we can see Prasoet really love his second family eventhough they’re not officially Jiraanan’s family. This drama will revolve around Prasoet so finally in the end all know that Prasoet has another family beside his family with Cris and Pete.

Next, is Mate( Saksit Tangthong) and his daughter Meimei (Sawanya Paisarnpayak). Mate always pick up Meimei at school. This is quite a little family, but Mate really love his daughter and vice versa. The only daughter left in Jiraanan family is Phatson (Kathaleeya McIntosh). Phatson married with a police and automatically her last name changed into Suriyapairoj. They have 4 sons, the eldest is Yi (Thanapob Lee), 2nd is Ern (Captain Chonlathorn), 3rd is Tao (Third Lapat) , and youngest is Toei (Jackie Jackrin) who in the same age with Meimei. To be honest I love this family the most. So lucky that Phatson has 4 son that love and protect her. Next, they didn’t introduce the parents but A-goong and A-ma has grandson that live together with them called Kuaitiao (Porsche). Last, youngest son is Konkan (Lift Supoj). If we can choose which one is the most chill family, we could say that Konkan family is very chill~ They have 2 son, Vegas (JamyJames) and Macao (Ryu Vachirawich). (The parents like casino very much🤣).

So enough with the introduction, and I will tell a little bit of the story before doing an overall review.

This suspense drama revolves around the Jiraanans, a wealthy Thai-Chinese family that operates its own hotels in Bangkok and Pattaya. The drama follows the members of the family, which seem to enjoy a strong and unbreakable bond. But things are not what they seem. One day, the eldest member from the second generation mysteriously turns up dead in the family estate. His nephew Yi, the oldest son of the victim’s sister and the prime suspect in the case, desperately tries to find out the truth. Source: MyDramaList

Before an incident happen in Jiraanan’s family, all of them just celebrate A-goong birthday together. It is so warm to see a big family gather together, it must be a happy day for A-goong and A-ma that they live till now to see their son and daughter with their little family and have a handsome and beautiful grandchilds. We also can see that the grandchilds really love their A-goong and A-ma. It’s like their family are in happiest moment. Even they took a family picture together.

But who knows, that it’ll be A-goong last birthday. A few days after they gather together, A-goong passed away. This is the real beginning of the story about dark secret that Jiraanan’s family have but no one knows anything about it even the family itself. After A-goong death, it just going worse because of the tradition and old generation believe about differences between son and daughter in the family and honestly A-goong make it worse with his last will that shocking all the family because only his daughter that didn’t accept anything related to their business eventhough she work hard build their family business from scratch. All she got only his father savings; money. Instead, the eldest grandson from eldest son got 1/4 share of the family business. All of it, ended up we’ll see Prasoet the eldest son lying still on the floor.

Yes, the eldest son of Jiraanan family was shot dead. He was found first by his sister Phatson who came over to his house talking about their father’s will and end up screaming when saw his brother was dead. Another family at that time in their house hear someone screaming and rush to get out to see Phatson panicked and said that Prasoet was shot in his home so they ran and as we can see in the picture A-ma, Kuaitiao, and Meimei saw that Prasoet lying still on the floor in his bedroom. After that this murder case became the talk of the town, get into the news, so police tried to find the motive why the murderer killed him. Honestly, this event create a most damage for Phatson family. As people know, Prasoet rarely confront someone and had enemy but the last thing he argue with someone, it’s Phatson. But I said in this drama, it’s not over till it’s over. We can’t be sure that the killer is his sister itself because as we go through this we could see that Prasoet had a few secret that we didn’t knew before and it could be a motive to someone done a murder. We just need to see it clearly and evaluate it carefully. I’m not gonna give a spoiler in this review, but I think you guys will guess it right like I am.

My first thought about this drama is I like how the story always give us a new plot twist in almost every near-end episode and make us wanna watch the next episode as soon as possible. This is one way to make us never bored by the story and they can wrap it successfully. Although honestly I can guess the biggest plot twist of this story but still it’s interesting because this drama get some details that we can’t get pass and that’s also give us some plot twist. You can’t guess it throughly, like you can guess this overall plot but still you’ll miss the little part of plot twist that make this story much better. Because it’s a story related to family, it’s really deep even when we already know the real murderer and all we need to see is just see the person in trial, in another drama we usually feel relieved and happy finally the killer is captured. But I think this drama makes me feel more sad and broken?? When we all see the truth, I think the circumstances are not getting better. The story really revolves only between Jiraanan family and the story behind it give us more pain than the murder itself. It’s not easy left by people who we loved especially it is a family, but it is more painful when we know that the one who doing it also our family. But I can say that all of this happens because of karma from their all bad action that happened in the past. When we know literally all the truth we finally realized why all of this happen to them, because every each of them are deserved it. But it’s all in the past, so eventually we must move on. In the end, life goes on. They’re still our family. We just need to let go of the past, and open a new chapter because only family is the place that we can lean on again. I can really feel it how every character in this drama just doing everything that they could to save their family. They’re not bad people, they’re just doing everything to protect their family. Lesson learned from this drama;

Family is the most important thing in our life because in the end it’s only family that we can go back into, and only family that will stay on our side and tried the best to support, protect, and defend if we get into problems. They’ll do anything. But without us knowing, the closest person that standing with us that can hurt us the most, is family too. But in the end, because the name of ‘family’ that will lead us back together and family is the only place that we can still lean on. Mistake happens all the time.

For each family, if I have to choose whose family I love and attached the most, I would say that I really like Phatson family. I can feel their warm family and all of their sons are really get along well. They always root for each other, trying to protect the only woman in the house, their mother Phatson, and the eldest son Yi will do anything to protect and support his family.

One of my favorite scene is when Tao the 3rd son is a celebrity and when he feel he can’t hold back anymore he burst out to his brothers because only them that can give him comfort and feel protected. It’s also my best scene when they give us this brother scene gather together in one room and talking about anything and end up sleeping together on the floor. I can see from that scene, how they think that family is everything and they’ll never let them down because they have each other.

For the character, I have a few character that I like and attached my attention:

My favorite character; I got 2 character that I love, but first the character that I love the most is (of course) Yi. Despite in this drama his character more leaning to the bold action, like doing anything in a rush, bluntly, and doing a few illegal action but I think he did his best for his family. I don’t understand why he must critized by society in the drama because of his action? I think what he did was right because he already doing everything right and ask everyone that connected but no one helping him instead they just block him away. We can see that he never intented to hurt anyone else too so I’m pro to Yi side. I love his scene with his youngest brother, Toei. If I’m Toei, I’ll cherish Yi all of my life till I die. Because when everything is too hard for him, only Yi that confidently always stand on his side. (okay enough it’s a little spoiler). From this drama, I think I know why Thanapob Lee finally got casted in Hua Jai Sila. I noticed him because his acting in that drama was really really good, I can feel all his emotions there. It turned out here we could see him potray Yi perfectly, and it’ll really help him to get his next drama. He’s not only smart and catch the little detail in his family, but his action is always on point eventhough not all of that is always a right thing. But sometimes to get what you want, you need to do a little more dramatic so the thing you want will show up.

My favorite character; The next character that I like is Pete. Unexpectedly, for sure. To be honest I don’t think that his personality is thaaat nice. It’s about his first impression. When I his first scene with his mother, my first impression of him is he’s a boy who like to spent their parents money for fun and study abroad so he can get away from his parents to have fun🤣🤣 in my opinion; he loves money. TURNS OUT I’m 100% wrong. Pete is the most responsible person in this drama. His responsibility and his fair judgement is the best. He didn’t judge people by his relationship, if he know that this person is wrong then it’s wrong. I love how his attitude to his father’s another family. I just thought he’ll upset and didn’t accept them, turns out he accept them, and he cares them just like his father would do if he’s alive. You deserve happiness, Pete!

Ice Pariss as Chi. He doesn’t have much screentime but still his character ini this drama really shocked me. Kinda same with Pete. Look the picture above. Both of them looks like they have a personality that have anger issue but actually not. I watched his drama and movie like Bad Genius The Series and Ghost Lab, and I didn’t like his character but I admit that his face suited the most for that kind of personality. Being a jerk, brave action without thinking, not a literally bad person but not really a good personality too. So I thought he’ll become a jerk too since his dad didn’t bring their family to Jiraanan family and only went to their house 1 time/week. So what did he expect? But he has good attitude even to his step brother, he’s really polite and when he know that his family didn’t get single penny from his father’s will he accept it. He didn’t get mad eventhough in the end of his dad ‘s life, his mother was the legal wife. HE ACCEPT IT WHOLEHEARTEDLY. Okay, respect Chi!

From Pete and Chi, I learned that Prasoet maybe not the best brother, best son, best husband, and best father. But he did really well raising both of his sons to the point that his sons really have a good attitude and personality. I adore their personality so much!

(This is one of the difference between this drama and another drama. It is usually the first son didn’t accept that father has another family and another son demand his part from father’s will and clashed BAM!)

My appreciate for Jackie Jackrin for his acting as Toei. I just know him from this drama ( I think) and he’s potraying Toei really good. I can’t tell too much since it’ll become a spoiler but he can pour his soul and heart so well in this drama. I can see how much he adore his brother Yi so much and wanna say that you did it, you made it to survive with your consistency. You didn’t loose yourself just to make you free when your mother told you to do something. I think Yi had a big part that made Toei become a better person and learn from his mistakes.

The most disappointing character of this drama is *give an applause to* Vegas!!! This is the opposite of Pete. I put a lot of hope for him in this drama that he’ll become one of the rightest people but turns out a big nope. At the very beginning he shows us that he’s honest, fair, doesn’t like act wrong and even brave to tell his father lies. He’s the right person. But as the drama continues, we reach a point that Vegas just an ordinary boy who still has heart. His love is bigger than his principle. The only thing that I hope will be released in this drama, turns out it’ll hidden forever till end because of him. It’s the only proof that clearly helping this case but he choose to hide it forever. Another lesson learned I took from Vegas;

Sometimes we just know that human is not perfect. A person who always doing the right thing, eventually will become a bad person if someone we really love and cherish got a problem. They can ruin their life principle as long they can save their loved one. And often happens that the loved ones is Family.

In this family drama we learned that culture and tradition are taking a big part in our family. When a son and a daughter have a big gap in it, when a daughter didn’t considered as part of family just because she married a man and took his last name. Like having a daughter didn’t as good as if having a son. But actually if I think about it, the one who give birth to is a woman????? Why then a son is more valuable descent. They also differentiate their grandson status into a primary grandchild (son and daughter of the son’s family) and secondary grandchild (son and daughter from daughter’s family). But still we couldn’t get rid of the culture and tradition entirely. We just need to adapt well to the good culture and sort the not-so-good culture better.

Overall, I’m really happy that I found this Thai drama. I watch several dramas from Thailand but never found this kind of genre. A family drama that really warms heart but with a touch of mystery and dark secrets in it. But not like another drama that compete for power and will doing everything evil things between family and make things chaos and ruin their relationship as a family because their greedy and selfish will. In this drama we’ll have a dark secret but it’s not always about money, and I still feel their deep kinship, how this problems solved legally but a touch of their kinship because of their dark past. They need to let it go and open the new chapter because life still goes on for the living one.

Since I really love this drama, I’ll give 4.5/5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️✨. Thank you Tor for making me found this drama!

“Family is not always about getting along well everytime, but for sure Family is the place that we can always go back in the end no matter what happen.”

[felidaefighter]

Softer Snow Than You Remember

[Hurt/Comfort, Phil & Ranboo]

“I’m leaving,” Ranboo says, “I’m moving out. For good. I shouldn’t be here.”

Ranboo isn’t helpless; he’s capable, he can do what he wants. Phil is aware of this. But he’s also aware of the shake in Ranboo’s voice, the familiar look in his eyes that means something is wrong and he’s not saying what.

There are a million things Phil could say, and a million reasons he shouldn’t. The truth is too complex to be spoken-- how is he supposed to voice what it means to him that this kid got so attached to an act of human decency that he swore an undying loyalty? How can he express that it’s not about replacement, it’s not about projecting, it’s about seeing someone respect you and look up to you and having something break inside when you realize they don’t have anyone? And it’s about the ensuing urge to protect them and teach them that follows this realization? How can he possibly tell this desperate, hurting kid that he only wants him to be happy?

The truth comes out before Phil can comprehend that he’s opened his mouth.

“You’re like a son to me, Ranboo.”

This definitely is not what Ranboo expected to hear. He freezes, trying to take in the information. “No,” he responds, and Phil’s heart aches at how ragged the kid’s voice is, “You’re only saying that because your son--”

“I’m not.” Phil interjects bluntly. “It’d be shitty if I was, but I’m not. If I wanted a replacement to project onto, it’d be Ghostbur here instead of you. That’s not how I see you, Ranboo. You’re your own person.” Ranboo needs steady certainty with no room for arguments when he’s spiraling; Phil knows this. He watches the expression on his face change from lost and bitter to confused and hurt. He speaks more softly.

“Back during L’Manberg, you were just a stranger who was nice to me after I was nice to you. Seeing how lost you were when we destroyed it, not from the destruction but from the people around you-- I thought maybe you could stay here a little while, and that’s it. But you...” Phil sighs, struggling to speak a truth he never wanted to admit in the first place. Oh well. Too late now. Ranboo listens patiently, mouth pursed, eyes watering.

“You had so much on your shoulders from all of this. We worked on the houses together and trained together and joked together and seeing you get even a little bit happier than you were in L’Manberg only made me want to see you happy even more. I just want you to be happy.”

He takes a moment, composes himself-- at least tries to. He’s more successful than Ranboo currently is. “You can leave, if you want to.” He speaks slow, steady, calculated. Keeps his voice even, soft but strong.

“No one is going to force you to stay. But you also don’t have to leave. No one is forcing you to leave, either. Techno and I are fully capable fighters, and between the three of us, if that’s what you’re worried about, we have an arsenal that could arm more people than we’d ever need to fight. We’re safe here, and we care about you. And,” Phil breathes, “I want you stay. The decision is yours, though. What do you really want to do, Ranboo?”

And Ranboo is shaking, small particles emanating from him as he sobs and his tears burn his cheeks.

“I want to stay,” He says-- a confession, a desperate cry for help-- “I want to stay.”

Phil moves on instinct, finding and uncorking a potion of healing. He pours some of the liquid on his fingertips and reaches up, gently wiping away the kid’s tears and healing the burns at the same time. Ranboo stutters something out, but Phil shushes him, and the tall hybrid eventually caves in and crouches so Phil can reach his face better, until the tears have stopped and the potion is gone.

“Thank you, Phil,” Ranboo says, voice hoarse and tired but with clarity seeping into his voice. “I just-- I just--”

“I know,” Phil says. Ranboo hiccups. Phil puts his parenting voice on without realizing it. “You’re not leaving on my watch though. Not when you feel backed into a corner and like you don’t have anyone to rely on. I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Neither is Techno, although he’s definitely gonna be harder to wake up.” The kid lets out a small chuckle at that, and Phil feels his heart relax a little, feels the ache ease just the tiniest bit.

“Now! Let’s get you rehydrated, calmed down, and back to your place. Unless you don’t want to be alone, we could trek to Snowchester if you think Tubbo will be there, or you could visit Michael.” Ranboo lets Phil lead him around as he gets Ranboo something to drink and swats away the kid’s attempts to tidy up, but Ranboo pauses when they reach the door. It’s the tiniest moment of hesitance, but Phil catches these things.

He sighs; why do his children always refuse to assert themselves when they need help?-- though he’s also still rather taken aback at his own subconscious phrasing-- and instead, tells Ranboo to stay put for a moment. He rummages through his chests for a moment before finally pulling out a bedroll and some blankets so that the kid cannot possibly refuse on the basis on inconvenience. “Or you could just stay here,” Phil suggests. It’s not actually a suggestion so much as an approval of an unvoiced question.

“Is that... okay?” Ranboo asks as if he’s treading on glass, and Phil lightly baps the back of his head. “I wouldn’t’ve suggested it if it wasn’t!”

“That is true, that is true,” Ranboo acknowledges as he takes the pile from Phil. “I’ve got proper pillows upstairs,” Phil hums, “But it might get a bit cold since I don’t need it as warm as Techno.” He cackles a little. “He would hibernate even more if he didn’t have that fire going constantly.”

“Oh man. Is that even possible? I don’t mind the cold though! Besides, these are some heavy-duty blankets. I think it’ll be fine!” Phil smiles, feeling a little pride in himself as the kid perks up little by little. It’s the small things in life that you miss, but it’s also the small things you know to look out for and appreciate if you’re given the chance.

He doesn’t ask Ranboo what was wrong; the kid will tell him in time. What matters now is that he feels safe and knows there are people he can rely on. Phil refuses to let him down, refuses to let him be hurt and desperate any more than he already has been. He starts up the ladder as Ranboo wiggles into his blankets, and calls softly “I’ll be upstairs if you need me”; it’s met with Ranboo’s hum of acknowledgement.

There’s something familiar about it, and Phil expects the feeling to hurt, just as he expects the snow in the night to clatter against the windows like ice as it has before. Both are softer than he remembers. He takes a moment, to himself, to listen to quiet breathing become steady and soft as the hybrid falls asleep. It’s strange, to be looking after someone again. It’s not a second chance; that would imply many things, both good and bad, that simply aren’t true. But it’s nice. The night feels peaceful in a way it hasn’t in a long time. And the hybrid downstairs, safe in his blankets, does not sleepwalk.

[ressyfaerie]

Dark Tyson fic; during G-Rev, Tyson snaps from stress and feelings of abandonment and joins Team BEGA. (Bonus points for Brooklyn getting close to Tyson to make Kai jealous. Black Dragoon optional, or maybe Boris gives him Black Dranzer...?!)

I saved the best for last. 

I am a big fan of dark Tyson- love it. I’ve been thinking of this prompt for DAYS. I’m very excited to write this- as you know I am the angst queen. For the sake of this fic, g-rev timelines are going to be confusingly switched around, just because it makes more sense for the fic, and also- I’ve forgotten some important plot points and dont have the time to rewatch g-rev LMAO. Anything in * can be Tyson’s or Kai’s private thoughts! 

So I finished writing this, and it's LONG. so I’ve actually uploaded it to archive first, because reading it on tumblr seems like a chore and a half, so here’s the archive link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30739397/chapters/75866906

It came out to 50 pages, and it’s 5 chapters on archive. 

And here’s the first ‘chapter’ of the fic: 

So here we go:

It was odd to see Kenny angry. 

He tossed his laptop to the side, picking up spare bey parts in his hand. 

“Kenny! I’m just saying- What are our chances? Without everyone else, we’re useless as a team-”

“I’ve been working so hard Tyson…” Kenny shook in anger, beside him. Hilary tried to place her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he shook her off. 

“How could you say we’re useless?! When we’ve been trying so hard!?” 

“It’s not enough! You know me and Diachi can’t work together-” 

From the corner of the room, Diachi screeched, “Hey loser! I’m right here!” 

“I know, you shitty little cherry tomato!” 

Hilary tried to be the mediator, “Tyson, are you sure that’s how you really feel?” 

Tyson nodded, “Our team has no hope. Now with BEGA taking over everything we can’t even get any parts, it’s useless-” 

“How could you say that Tyson!” Kenny yelled louder than he ever had in his life, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be uplifting us! You’re the leader-” 

“I don’t want to be a leader! We had a leader remember? And a coach?” 

“You can’t give up!” Kenny begged and shook with anger, Tyson felt horrible, he knew Kenny had been working so hard, but they had lost too much, he felt there was no hope of recovery. 

“Throw out your research Kenny, we’re done.” Tyson stared at the wooden floorboards of the dojo, completely defeated. 

“AaaaH!” Kenny had launched himself forward- landing a strong right hook on Tyson’s cheek. 

Tyson fell backwards, landing on his side and quickly sitting up to rub his cheek, “What the hell Kenny!?” 

Kenny was furious, “you can throw away everything we’ve worked for if you want! Telling me to throw away *my* research?! You need to get yourself together Tyson!” 

Tyson was left speechless, Hilary nodded, agreeing with Kenny, “if we’re going to defeat BEGA we need a Tyson who can hold himself together.” 

“You’re heads messed up dude,” Diachi remarked, “We can’t work with you until you fix yourself.” 

Tyson could feel the anger radiate through his body, “if you guys think I’m so messed up then maybe I should just leave!?” 

“Then go.” Kenny hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Fine! Good luck with hopper-” Tyson slammed his hands on the floor throwing himself to his feet, “Your beyblade that fucking hops- Beyblades aren’t supposed to hop Kenny!” 

He slid open the shoji doors fast, and threw them closed, rattling the old dojo like an earthquake. Outside in the gardens, he cursed. 

“Tyson?” 

Hearing his grandpa’s voice behind him, he aggressively swung his body in his direction, “What is it Gramps? I’m not in the mood-” 

“What’s going on with you and your friends?” 

“Friends!?” Tyson spat. 

“Oh no... Tyson-” Ryu shook his head. 

“What? What is it? Is it something wrong with me?” Tyson’s whole body was stationary, emanating white anger.

“Your friends didn’t leave you to hurt you.” 

“Not my friends- Friends don’t betray each other to go to different teams.” 

“You *know* they didn’t betray you.” 

“Then tell me why Kai went to BEGA.” 

Grandpa stayed silent, he didn’t have a good reason why Kai went to BEGA, and no one knew why. 

“I’m sure like Max and Ray, he just wanted to fight you again.” 

“And Hiro?” 

“He wanted to train stronger opponents for you-” 

Tyson suddenly laughed, “he could have trained *me*.” 

Ryu placed his hands in front of him, trying to calm his grandson down from a distance. 

His Grandpa was more serious than he had been in years. 

“He could have- I know it wasn’t the best thing for Hiro to do, but- he did it because he loves you.” 

“Okay Grandpa, you have an answer for everything huh? Then answer me this- where’s my dad?” 

The garden turned ice cold. 

“I’m sure he’s around Tyson-”

“Does he not have a TV? Or a post office? How can he sit in some country, and not see what is happening to his own son!?” Tyson’s voice bellowed through the courtyard. 

“I don’t know Tyson- he loves you.” 

“No he doesn’t- It seems no one does-” Tyson was holding back angry sobs. 

Ryu took a step forward, “Tyson I-” 

“No!” Tyson screamed and threw his hand in front of him to keep him back, “stay away from me!” 

The doors to the dojo opened, no doubt his make-shift team coming to see the commotion. 

“You guys stay away from me too!” Tyson grasped his head and scratched his nails into his scalp, “Everyone just- stay away from me.” 

No one could say anything, Tyson glanced around at the quiet group, “what? Are you guys afraid of me now or something?” 

“Tyson, you need to calm down-” Ryu tried. 

“No? Don’t tell me to calm down!-” Tyson took a step backwards, trying desperately to flee the situation, then it occurred to him- he could. 

Tyson stared down the gravel beneath his feet, the world felt blurry, and in that moment his vision flashed red, he turned away running at full pace through the yard, and out the gates, flying down the street as he heard his only paternal figure and teammates calling for him. 

Down the road, over a bridge, along the ocean, towards the river. 

The sun was setting now, twilight was blanketing the world. 

At the top of the riverbank he began to head towards the river, not knowing why. He slipped on the smooth grass landing on his back and groaning in pain. 

He placed his hands over his face and cried. 

He sobbed for everything- everything he lost, his friend’s, his reputation, his spirit. 

He pulled himself off the grass and shoved his head in between his knees, still crying. Anger, sadness, regret, he felt it all at once. It was eating him from the inside out.

He let out a frustrated scream while jabbing his fingertips into his biceps, trying desperately to turn to dust, to become one with the earth. 

He didn’t hear the footsteps approach him. 

“I would ask if you’re okay- but I know the answer.” 

“Whoever you are- Just leave me alone- please.” Tyson buried his head further into his knees. 

He felt someone sit beside him, the grass crunched under their weight.

“Everyone’s left you.” 

“I know that-” Tyson could barely make out the words. 

“They left you for better teams, brighter pastures… You must think you’re not good enough for them.”

Tyson shook his head. 

“You are. You’re better than all of them, probably better than all of them combined.” 

 Those words made Tyson perk his head up, wondering who his savior tonight could possibly be. 

The purple hair stood out first, he wore a compassionate smile. 

Tyson locked eyes with his arch-enemy but made no effort to change his expression.

 “You’re allowed to be sad- and angry.” 

Tyson became more frustrated, *why is it out of everyone I know, the evilest person tells me what I need to hear?*

Boris had an interesting voice. Tyson tried to dissect the tone, but he could only detect… Affection. 

“What are you going to do now… World champion?”

Tyson felt his body go numb at the comment, so much was expected of him, but he had no way of accomplishing any of it. 

Tyson tried to inhale before answering, a cough got stuck in his throat, and he answered in a hoarse voice, “I’m not sure.” 

Boris continued smiling, he stared at the orange sun, just about to disappear under the horizon, “Do you want to show your friends how capable you are?” 

Tyon managed to hold his head up for a moment, he slowly nodded. 

“Good for you.” 

His words seemed to calm him down against his will. 

Tyson mumbled, “I won’t join BEGA.”  

“I’m not asking you to. But I do have everything you need to arm yourself. Parts, training rooms, places to sleep, all the food you could ask for” 

Tyson shook his head. 

“No strings attached. Come see my training facilities tonight, if you don’t want to be there, you can leave.”  

Tyson felt cold, the shadow of the setting sun crept over them, an ominous darkness crawled over his face, then Boris’. 

“Or would you rather go back to your home tonight?” 

Boris made a point. Tyson had no intention of going home tonight, but he had nowhere to stay. 

His eyes darted back and forth, deep in thought. 

Boris pushed himself off the ground and stepped to the top of the hill. 

On the road next to them, a fancy car.  

The purple-haired man opened the passenger door and gestured with his hand. Tyson gave him a blank stare. 

“Come on, world champ.” He emphasized the last words just right- reminding Tyson how much was on his back, “what’ll it be?” 

Tyson’s brain wasn’t working, logical thought was too much to process. What he did know was- he didn’t want to sit on this riverbank crying the rest of the night. 

Boris waited, for minutes, holding the door open. 

Tyson sniffed, he rubbed his nose with his forearm, crawled to his knees, and pushed himself off the ground. 

“Good job, champion.” Boris grinned, giving him the unnecessary compliment. 

Tyon was beside him now, he rested his fingertips on the top of the car door, feeling the cold black metal under his nails. 

“It’ll be warmer inside when I turn on the heat,” Boris reassured Tyson, inspecting his skin, covered in goosebumps from the cold.

“O...kay…” 

Tyson crawled into the passenger seat weakly.

He did turn on the heat. The heated seats warmed Tyson’s whole body. He watched the street lamps roll past as he hunched into the leather. 

Boris drove like an old man- but also a maniac. Driving the speed limit, but taking turns at the same speed. 

The BEGA building towered over the whole city. They pulled into a parking garage, the gates rose with Boris’ presence. 

After parking in a special stall, Boris turned off the car and climbed out, he walked to Tyson’s side opening the door for him. Tyson didn’t have the energy to complain that he could have done it himself, and instead, followed the older man to a specific elevator. 

They rode the elevator in silence.

When the door opened, Boris walked ahead, Tyson followed cautiously. 

Inside another heavy metal door was darkness, Boris flicked a switch and the lights invaded the room. 

The room was filled with dirt and boulders, in the center, a beydish carved into the earth. 

 “This room was made to be destroyed,” Boris explained. 

Tyson pushed his hands into his pocket, caressing Dragoon with his hand. 

“You’re welcome to destroy it- if you’d like.” 

Tyson still felt emotion linger in his chest, the frustration was killing him, it was a tempting offer, but he knew if he wrecked his blade in the process, he had no way of fixing it. 

“I’m not recording, I’m not analyzing you, I’ll just step back. You do what you need to do.” 

Tyson pulled out his launcher and loaded Dragoon, he directed his launch to a rock.

“AAAUUGH!” Tyson roared as he put all his anger into letting go. 

Dragoon split the rock clean through with ease, the two halves crashing to the ground. 

Tyson continued to scream and throw his hands giving Dragoons orders at a lighting pace. The room was soon covered in dust from the obliterated rocks, while sand rolled over the floor. 

Tyson was holding his chest, trying to get air into his lungs with fast painful breaths, he realized the amount of air he needed wasn’t arriving, so he continued to destroy the room. 

After all the rocks were annihilated, he fell to his knees. He was out of tears, his eyes were wide open. As he witnessed the destroyed room under his body, Boris began to clap. 

“Bravo! Amazing, spectacular! A performance only one person in the whole world could accomplish!” 

Dragoon obediently arrived at Tyson’s knees, he picked him up and inspected him. 

*Trashed. I’m sorry Dragoon.*

He shoved him safely back into his pocket. 

“Fantastic job, Tyson.” Boris was in front of him now, holding out his hand to help him up. 

Tyson wanted to refuse, but his legs were like jelly, he grasped his hand using it as his crutch. 

“You must be thirsty after a performance like that! Come- I have a room prepared.” 

Tyson found himself in an extremely fancy penthouse. Extravagant food was laid out on a table with every kind of drink next to it. 

Boris had gestured to a couch telling him to sit down, when he did, the soft plush absorbed him. The comfort felt amazing on his aching muscles. 

“What do you want to drink, champion?” Boris popped open a wine bottle and poured himself a glass. 

Tyson watched him cautiously, he had never seen an adult drink alcohol so casually in front of him- he was underage after all. 

“Do you want some of this?” Boris gestured to his crystal glass and grinned. 

“No- Just water, thanks.” 

“Any food?” Boris asked as he handed him a glass of cold water from the table. 

Tyson accepted it and began to drink, he stopped for a moment, “not hungry.” 

“You’ve been through a lot tonight, that’s understandable.”

Tyson took another worried sip, “Yeah.” Tyson’s eyes darted side to side.

“You must be wondering about the room?” 

“Is this your place?” Tyson took a good look at the penthouse this time. 

“Actually, it was supposed to be yours, when I finally convinced you to join BEGA, but-” Boris took a sip of his wine, “it seems like that just isn’t going to happen.” 

Tyson felt a wave of exhaustion fall over him. He felt like he had been hit by a truck. 

“Let me show you around,” Boris suggested. 

Tyson decided to follow, he needed to get off the couch before he fell asleep. 

He showed him the kitchen, balcony, hot tub, fireplace, and finally the bedroom. 

“King Size bed, very comfortable, you can lay down if you want.” 

Tyson could sense his eyes closing, it had been a long day, he had never felt this tired, even after training all night. 

Boris sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. Without questioning, Tyson was sitting beside him too. 

“It’s okay to rest sometimes. Have you ever seen a champion win on fumes?” 

“I have.” Tyson tried to grin, but failed. 

“Go to sleep Tyson.” 

“No- not here.” 

Boris took his empty water glass out of his hand- he gently pushed his shoulder, Tyson collapsed backwards into the bed. 

“Sleep.”

[official-weasley]

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, curse words

CHAPTER 6

Charlie

One year later...

“Good morning.” I sang opening the door to the nursery.

“Charlie, hi!” Tina almost banged her head on the counter, getting up. “You’re early.”

“Did you sleep here again?” I frowned at her.

“No. I just dropped a bottle on the floor.” She was one of the clumsiest people I know. She reminded me so much of my friend Tonks from Hogwarts, except that her hair was black and not hot pink. “You know he can live without you for more than 5 hours.”

“I know. But I missed him and I couldn’t sleep anyway.” I looked at the clock on the wall.

Half-past five in the morning. I already came in later than usual.

“Okay. Let me take you to your son.” She chuckled and stepped away from the counter. “If he’s still sleeping and you’ll wake him up, you’ll be dealing with him, I’m warning you.”

“I know. I don’t mind.” I smiled.

I followed her through the corridor and waited for her to unlock the door.

“It definitely doesn’t sound like he’s sleeping.” I placed my hands on my ears to muffle the sound.

“He’s doing really well this week.” Tina said proudly.

“Hi, Aami. How are you, little guy?” I approached the fence slowly, my hand in front of me.

“Perhaps a few more days and we’ll be able to do a gender reveal.” I turned around at Tina’s words, sparks in my eyes.

“We can do a gender reveal cake then.” I giggled to myself.

“What?” Tina asked confused.

“It’s something Muggles do, I’m told.” I kneeled next to him, admiring his every move.

“Your dad told you that?” She laughed.

I hummed in reply, not taking my eyes off Aami.

“Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, Tina?” I said in a dreamy voice.

“I would say he got it after you, but it looks like he only got your stubborn personality.” She joked.

“Ha-ha.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Do you think he’ll ever fly?”

I slowly extended my arm through the fence so I could touch his beautiful crimson wing. Aami was collateral damage when Victor Krum accidentally made the Chinese Fireball step on her eggs while he was retrieving his golden egg. Aami’s egg was cracked but he somehow survived thanks to Tina.

She was the nurse who took care of eggs and helped premature hatchlings to grow strong. Then we had a team who would train them and help them fly. The mother dragon is usually supposed to do that but if the baby doesn’t hatch next to her, she doesn’t want it. That’s where our team steps in and helps them with everything, from feeding to firebreathing and flying.

Aami’s left wing was badly hurt due to the egg’s collision with the ground and was growing slower than his right one. Even though Tina was optimistic and said that he is showing progress every single day, we still didn’t know if his wing would ever fully grow. If it doesn’t, he would never be able to fly.

I don’t blame Viktor for what happened that day. I was watching him retrieving the egg and I know he didn’t do it on purpose. It happens. It was more our fault that we brought our mother Fireball to the tournament. It was a bad idea.

She was one of the most stubborn and untamed dragons but the Ministry insisted. We shouldn’t have allowed it. She was too attached to her eggs and she snapped, stomping on them in the process.

Aami’s wing might be damaged but we considered him lucky, even though his mother rejected him once we started taking care of him. At first, I was helping Tina because I felt bad for the little guy and I was really hoping that he’ll make it but he grew on me so quickly. With his fire-coughing and his playfulness and his green eyes. He was perfect.

“I don’t know, Charlie. His wing is still underdeveloped and even though it’s growing slowly it’s still not even close to where it should be for his age.” Tina’s face was creased in a sad expression.

I know she cared for him just as much as I did.

“I’ll be here every day until I’ll be able to take you flying.” I turned back to Aami and whispered to him.

“He’s lucky to have you.” Tina stepped closer to us and placed her hand on my shoulder. “You’ll make a great dad one day.”

“Thanks.” I murmured.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I stood up and reached for the bag I brought with me. “I got you some fresh chicken blood and 10 bottles of brandy. I know it’s not much but…”

“It’ll do until the next supply crate tomorrow. Thank you, Charlie.” She took the bag from me with a smile on her face.

She took out one bottle and a bag of chicken blood, gave it to me, and exited the room to give us some alone time.

I carefully took the empty bowl away from Aami and poured the contents from the bottle and the bag into it and returned it to him. I laughed at his hungry eyes.

“Here you go. Have at it.” I sat down next to his small enclosure and hugged my legs, placing my head on my knees. I felt so calm when I was watching him eat. It was my new favorite activity. Is this how it feels like when you have children? Because if it does I won’t be able to take my eyes off them.

I stayed with him until he fell asleep. I got up and quietly exited the room and went back to the nursery reception.

“There he is. Our Fireball Mother!” Peter mocked me, leaned on the counter.

“Good morning, Peter.” I ignored his remark.

Ever since I started taking care of Aami he and the mates from my team have been teasing me. Taking care of baby dragons is something women usually do around here and they found it funny how invested I was. I didn’t care because I knew they would never understand me and I enjoyed doing it so much that the fact that they called me the Fireball Mother didn’t even bother me.

“Should we transfer you to the nursery, since you’re here every morning?” He smirked at me.

“Don’t tempt me.” I pointed my finger at him.

“Your team misses you.” He looked up at the clock above me.

10 past seven.

“Fuck, I’m late for work!” I started towards the door.

I’m never late for work!

“Relax.” Peter extended his arm to stop me. “I know you were with the little Fireball. Count it as work.” He winked at me.

“Thank you, Peter.” I said thankfully.

“If you want I can make this your part-time for the time being. I’m sure your team will be able to handle the workload without you until we move Aami to his habitat.”

Did I mention that he was the best boss ever?

“I would love to, but I can handle both, Peter. Thank you for the offer.” I smiled faintly and took a step forward.

“Look, Charlie.” He stopped me yet again. “I know we are teasing you all the time but it’s only because you’re the youngest even though you are the most talented. I know this means a lot to you and since you didn’t go home for Christmas this year I couldn’t help but notice that you are working yourself even more than you did last year.”

He wasn’t wrong but I stayed quiet.

I didn’t know what to tell him. I had my reasons why I hadn’t taken a day off or visited my family for any of the holidays for the past year.

“How about you join your team at 8 for the next few weeks and be with the little guy in the morning. Call it your time off.” He winked at me. “I don’t know what goes on in that red-haired head of yours but it can’t be healthy to work yourself so hard.”

I blinked at him. I didn’t know how to reply. I didn’t expect this from him. Peter was the oldest in the Sanctuary. He was 48 and I looked up to him more than to anyone else here but we never talked about stuff like this. He teased me that I should take time off and he joked that I was a workaholic a couple of times but I never actually thought he was worried about me.

I know they teased me all the time because I was the youngest of the group and I didn’t mind that they did. We had a great time and I loved them all. But I was taken aback by his short speech.

I was fine.

I was doing okay.

I had the job that I always wanted and now I was taking care of this little guy which brought me so much joy.

What else could I want from my life?

My daily routine starts around five in the morning. I make myself some coffee and breakfast. Hike up the hill to watch the sunrise. Go to the nursery to check up on Aami and help Tina if she needs anything.

I meet my team at seven in front of my cottage and we make a full circle around the Reserve feeding the dragons. We finish around 12 every day so we go down to the tavern for launch. Then we go check on the mother dragons and see how the eggs are progressing. Then I assign a dragon to each in my team and we go and train them until four. We meet back up at my hut and go and feed them again.

Once we are done I go home to change my clothes and I either go for a run or another hike. I shower when I come back. Get some dinner and on the weekends we all grab a beer which usually ends up with me waking with a headache because it never stops after just one pint.

It might sound boring to some but I loved my work. It was busy but I love every minute of it. It’s true that I don’t have a lot of free time or take many days off but I really don’t need it. The hikes in the morning and the evening are my alone time and I don’t need more than that. I don’t even know what I would do if I had more time off.

“You know if it’s doable I would love to spend more time with the baby Fireball.” I finally answered him after a short pause.

He only nodded and finally let me go.

“Do you happen to know where my wife is?” He asked when I was almost out the door.

“She’s probably in one of the nursery rooms.” I smiled at him and exited.

Peter and Tina were one of the few couples in our Reserve. A lot of us are single, some have partners that work other jobs and have long-distance relationships. Most of us don’t think about it a lot because we don’t have that much time or the liberty to settle down.

We don’t get many recruits and when we do it’s mostly men so every time we get a new female Dragonologist everybody flips out and either scare her away or get slapped in the face. The latter happens more often.

“Where have you been, Charlie?” Andrew asked as soon as I reached them.

“Have you been looking after your son?” Theo made a kissy face.

I will murder him, I swear.

“For a matter of fact, I was.” I stuck my tongue at him. If he can be 35 and act like a child, I can be 22 and do so too. “I made a deal with Peter to join you mates at 8 so I can spend more time with Aami.”

“But you’re our team leader.” Evan looked puzzled.

“Can’t live without Charlie, Evan?” Theo mocked him. “We have the same routine every morning, I think we can manage.” He winked at me.

“It’s only until Aami can start his training.” I assured them.

I loved being the leader of a team and it was touching how much they listened to me.

I worked with 4 men. Evan, who was 28, was the only one besides me that was under 30. As I said before Theo is 35, John is 40 and Andrew is 32. Peter joins us occasionally in case we need a helping hand but they are all very skilled and good at what they do so we rarely have any problems.

I was so nervous the day when Peter told me he picked me as a group leader. I felt neither worthy nor qualified for the position and I thought they would all hate me for being their boss since I knew they were all older than me but nobody cared.

They obeyed and respected me since day one and I admired that about the Sanctuary. Here, age doesn’t matter. Talent, ambition, and skills matter. If you show how hard-working you are and that you are willing to learn and are good at your job, you can quickly earn everyone’s respect.

I told them that I would make a plan in the evening and pin it to the door for them to look through it in the morning so that they will know what to do while I’m in the nursery. Then we went to the storage room to get our protective gear and the food and we started our day.

—

“That’s it, mates.” I took off my gloves. “We’re done for today.”

“I can’t tell you how much I will enjoy my shower.” John smelled his shirt.

“That’s what happens when you’re not looking where you’re going and you fall in dragon dung.” Theo laughed at him and the rest followed.

“Meet you down for a pint, Charlie?” Andrew asked, his hand on my shoulder.

“Sure.” I nodded and we started walking down the hill.

“Charlie!” We all turned around when we heard my name.

“What do you have for me, Ernie?” I grinned at him.

Ernie worked in our Admission Office and was usually the one who brought us mail in the morning since all the letters usually arrived at the Sanctuary Owlery. It was for the safety of the owls so the dragons wouldn’t accidentally make them their dinner.

“I couldn’t find you this morning so I hold on to your letters.” He explained.

He handed me a handful of them. I tucked them under my arm.

“Thanks, Ernie.” I waved them all goodbye and made my way to my home.

As I was walking I looked through the envelopes. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t wait until I was sitting in my kitchen. I couldn’t pretend that I was waiting for a letter.

Tonks’. Mum’s. Ron’s. Ginny’s. Freddie and Georgie wrote separately to me which rarely happens. Nothing from Bill…again. I sighed and unlocked my door.

I put the letters on my coffee table and went straight into the shower. I didn’t feel like a hike. I wanted to go and grab a drink and be with my friends as soon as possible. I didn’t know what would happen to me if I was alone with my thoughts.

“Charles, what took you so long!” Theo slurred when I sat down next to him.

“How long was I in the shower that he’s already drunk?” I laughed and looked at Andrew and John sitting opposite us.

“What did I miss?” Evan sat next to me and sipped on his beer.

“Charlie is here, pretty boy!” Theo sang.

I shook my head. This is going to be a long night.

“I have noticed.” Evan laughed. “How is he already that drunk?” He leaned to me.

“I think the alcohol never leaves his system.” I joked.

“Look Charlie, it’s your girlfriend.” John smirked at me and when Andrew saw who he was talking about, he covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

I turned around and saw April standing at the bar. I sunk in my seat.

Oh, dear Merlin let her not see me!

“Will you ever stop?” I rolled my eyes.

“Who are we talking about?” Theo leaned on my shoulder and hiccupped.

“Nobody.” I answer quickly. “They are delusional.”

“We’re talking about April.” John said and winked at me.

Theo turned around so abruptly that I thought he was going to fall off the bench.

“April! Come here, April!” He shouted toward the bar.

April looked in our direction, smiled softly at me, and waved.

“Will you keep it down!” I smacked him over the head. “If she comes here, I will strangle you, Theodore!”

“You’re the one who slept with her.” Andrew mocked.

“Twice.” John made a kissy face.

“What is the topic tonight, mates?” Peter motioned with his hand that John and Andrew should make some room for him.

“We’re teasing Charlie about sleeping with April, twice.” Evan said innocently, holding two fingers in front of my face.

He was the one who was usually quiet when the rest of my mates were making fun out of me but I know he was enjoying it just as much.

“Twice?” Peter frowned. “Didn’t you sleep with her three times?”

I slammed my hand on my forehead. “They didn’t have to know that, Peter!”

Evan, John, and Andrew all looked at me, their eyes widened and they burst out laughing.

“Charlie, mate.” Theo leaned on his hand and looked me in the eyes. “Didn’t you say she’s bad in bed? What you sleeping with her so much for?”

“Are you in love, Charles?” John made a heart with his hand and extended his arms over the table.

“Bugger off!” I rolled my eyes. “I make bad decisions when I’m drunk.”

I then turned to Theo who was still leaning on his hand but had his eyes closed now. “It’s not that she’s bad in bed it’s just…” I swallowed hard. I didn’t know how to explain it because I knew that no matter what I say they’ll laugh at me again. “…we don’t have the right chemistry. There’s no passion.”

No connection, I wanted to say bit my tongue.

“Have you looked around, Charlie?” Theo laughed. “You don’t have that much to choose from.” The hand that he was leaning on finally gave in and he slammed his head to the table.

We all burst out laughing including him.

“Thanks. I’ll rather stay single.” I patted his head, pretending to care if he got hurt.

“You’re still young, Charlie. Never forget what you want and never settle for less.” Peter lifted his glass and we all followed his lead.

Never settle for less. It’s going to be hard to find someone after what I experienced last year.

[shelby-love]

JAY HALSTEAD

"I won't let him touch you."

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Authors note: LONG MINI STORY BEWARE!

Hank Voight stood outside Boden's office with his Intelligence team behind him. He knocked once and was immediately let in.

Hank walked towards the bataillon chief and shook his hand. "We need your help Wallace."

Boden didn't know what to say to that, he sat in his chair and waited for an elaboration. "I don't know how I can help you."

"Not you. Your paramedics. Call them in," This was the first time Hank mentioned something the rest of Intelligence didn't know or have inside on. Jay's eyebrows raised but before he could say something Ruzek put his hand on his shoulder, halting his movements.

The unit has been working on a tough case - a case that at some point included them undercover.

It didn't set well with Jay that his girlfriend was brought into this mess. It didn't sit well with him at all.

Boden grabbed the phone and called Connie, "Connie fetch Y/LN and Brett for me would you?"

He noticed the weird look Connie gave him, she too wondered what two paramedics had to do with the best unit in CPD. She stood up and did as she was told nevertheless.

"Y/LN, Brett - Chief Boden wants to talk to you," Connie informed you two. Your eyes fell on Sylvie and everyone else in the common room. You rummaged through your brain and tried to find a pissible explanation as to why he would want to talk to you.

As you and Sylvie walked towards his office you couldn't help but ask out loud, "We didn't do anything wrong, did we?"

"That's what I was thinking!" She exclaimed, "What if this is about the gauze? I told you we shouldn't have used it!"

A few days ago, you somehow fell while going home from work. Sylvie and you decided to take the gauze from the ambo and patch you up with that, and a few more things.

"We didn't use a lot though!" Your debate was cut off as you found yourself outside his office. You raised your hand to knock but someone had already opened the door before you even connected your knuckle to the door.

It was Jay who opened it.

You failed at hiding your shock as you slowly walked into the office. You felt the tension from your boyfriend in waves and you didn't know why.

"You wanted to see us chief?" Sylvie asked, unsure of the whole situation. She looked around the room just like you did before looking back at you. Silently you told each other you'll be fine.

"Yes," Boden said and told you to sit down. "Sargent Voight and the rest of Intelligence are here to speak to you."

Us? You wanted to ask but Voight started talking immediately after Boden said that, leaving no room for questions. "5 days ago. March 11th, the two of you went on a call. Person's name is Henry Smith."

You immediately know who he's talking about. Henry Smith himself called for an ambulance, once you got to the scene you helped him in the ambo and drove him to the hospital where he was operated and the bullet was successfully taken out. You didn't think he would pull through but you gave a lot of effort to keep him alive in the ambo, you even talked while he was conscious.

"What about him?" Sylvie took the words right out of your mouth.

"He's a serial killer." Voight replied monotone. Your eyes immediately seeked for Jay's and your heartbeat spiked up drastically. Many thoughts rushed through your brain. Was he trying to get a hold of you two? Was he planning on killing you? Are they here to put you two in witness protection?

"I... I don't understand," Your voice was shaky as you said those words. Jay himself didn't even know where this was all going. He just wanted you out of this mess. He didn't wanted you pulled into it.

"You two might be the only people Henry Smith trusts," He said that so causally it scared you. "I want you two undercover."

Sylvie almost passed out, you almost started crying and Jay... He lost it. "What? Sarge are you out of your mind??! No! Hell no!"

"Halstead you don't have a say in this I want you clear headed. Don't make this harder than it already is." Hank knew how much this was affecting Jay. He wasn't blind, he saw what you two had. You two loved each other and this was one of the most difficult things someone could put you through.

"Leave her out of this." He wasn't backing down.

"Henry is a casino guy. He has inside on all of us... But not on you," Voight started to explain. "That's why I want you undercover. Find out his cards. Tell us how he plays. He'll tell you because he trusts you."

You shared a look with your Chief, "Who did he kill?"

At your question Voight turns towards Jay, it's clear that he wants your boyfriend to tell you. Jay was tense and uneasy and it took him a while before he spoke up, eyes locked with yours. "His parents. Brother and two sisters...." When he stopped talking Voight incouraged him to continue "Go on."

Jay shook his head and clenched his jaw, he knew you'd want to help after you hear him say it. "He killed his two year old niece and now he's after almost every businessman in Chicago." Your one hand flew to your mouth and you gripped the arm rest tightly with the other. Jay wanted nothing more than say you didn't have to do any of this, that he'll do it all for you.

"He has a list," Voight continues to speak over the silence. "A list you need to get or more people and kids will die."

"Sarge come on-" Jay was ready to fight him.

"No we'll do it."

The whole room looked at you. Everyone was silent. Even Jay couldn't believe it.

You trusted Voight, no matter how much you sometimes didn't like Jay working with him, in this time and at this moment you actually trusted him. You also trusted that Henry wouldn't hurt you.

"Hey hey sir you need to trust me okay? We'll help you get through this!" You told the man before you. You pressed the gauze on his side to take sure to halt the blood flow. "What's your name?"

"h-henry."

"Okay Henry I'm Y/N. Sylvie and I will help you through this. You just gotta hang tight okay? Just trust us."

"I trust you." He said quietly and at that moment his heart beat fell and you were fighting time to keep him alive until Sylvie got you to the hospital.

Sylvie nodded bravely at you, "Where do you want us?"

***

"This necklace is wired," Ruzek explained the gangets to you. "It'll match your dress and no one will even suspect." You triwled the necklace in your hand, it was gold and it had a red ruby in the middle - of course the ruby was wired and fake.

You couldn't help but sneakily steal a glance at Jay. He leaned against the door and kept his gaze locked on you.

Your outfit was casino appropriate. But in other words flaming hot and revealing. If the outfit was under different circumstances - maybe when you and Jay decided to treat yourself by going out - then you would've felt amazing and confident. Now you just wanted to wrap yourself in a blanket and dissappear.

You turn your attention back to the gadgets. "Is there anything else you want me to attach to myself?"

"Nope. That'll be it."

A part of you wanted Adam to continue talking about the wireless gadgets so that way you could keep your focus on him and not worry about the fact that you're going straight into a killers arms.

***

"If you need me you call okay?" Jay's two big hands cup the sides of your face delicately. You can see the worry in his eyes.

"What if-"

"No. Listen there's no what if. If you need me just call. No one will lay his hand on you." As if he can't help himself he pulls back and wraps his arms securely around you. "I won't let him touch you."

No one from intelligence could follow you inside except for Ruzek and Atwater, that's why they also had cops who dressed civil and were going in with you and them.

"Alright we need to get going." Antonio's voice pops your bubble of safety and gets you moving.

You make your way to a flashy red car with Sylvie and Jay walks opposite of you. He walks towards a big loaded SUV and grabs a sniper Hank Voight had already prepared for him.

"Halstead you're on the roof. Kill that son of a bitch."

He didn't have to be told twice. "I won't let him touch her."

Voight placed his hand on Jay's tense shoulder. "I know."

***

"Do you copy?" Adam's voice rings in your ear. Sylvie and you are two steps away from the main entrance. You try to be as subtle as possible while you tuck a strand of your misplaced hair behind your ear. "We hear you Adam."

"Great. You girls have money. Make your way to the table and play. Henry is there already. Kevin is right behind you." 

It feels like the line went dead but it didn't. Everyone is listening to what's happening around you. Goosebumps are forming on your skin while you walk towards the table where all the fanciest suits are cheering. The roulette table. You spot Kevin at the poker table and he doesn't even react when your eyes meet but you know that he sees you. 

"Do you know how to play roulette?" Sylvie asks, sounding as scared as you are feeling.

"No... But Jay does." You reply.

"Well Jay isn't there right now."

You sigh sadly.

***

Henry Smith looked as dashing as one could possible be considering he was shot over a month ago. He's leaning against the table in his Ermenegildo Zegna black suit. His ash brown hair is neatly set. He looks clean and professional. His eyes shined brightly because everything at the table was going in his favour. Your mind pictures his expensive suit covered in blood and you feel lightheaded.

Why did I agree to do this?

"Ladies," A male attendant came up to Sylvie and you the moment you placed your clutch on the table. "Are you here to play or just drink and have a great time?"

To answer his question you grab two fancy looking glasses from the tray and hand one to Sylvie while sipping the other one as coyly as you can muster. He winks and dissappears in the crowds of expensive clothed bodies.

You glance over to where Henry sat only to find him gone.

Questions pop into your head as you try to decipher his move.

"I didn't know paramedics fancy this scene." His rough hands are on yours and Sylvie's shoulder and his raspy deep voice rings against your ear. He stands behind you so casually you almost throw up.

"Well we didn't exactly have time to chat about our scenes the last time we saw each other." You reply steadily.

"True." He gives in and you turn around.

"Wow look at you," Sylvie says, "You cleaned up nice."

"Very nice." You add after her for effect and see his eyes flash with something unknown to you.

On the roof Jay snorts and tightens the grip on his gun.

***

"So... How much did you win tonight?" Sylvie continues to converse with him while you scan where he's taking you.

"Ah I don't know... Probably a few hundreds."

"A few hundred dollars?" She asks him innocently which makes him laugh really really hard.

"No sweetheart. A few hundred thousand dollars." Both of you gape.

"Please sit." The plush sofa in the corner of the big fancy casino looks like the most private area in the whole building. There are four guards walking around you are making sure no one snoops where they shouldn't. Thats the reason why Ruzek and Atwater are stuck and aren't able to come anywhere near you.

"Jay I really hope you have him." Ruzek is sitting at the bar and keeping an eye on you. No one likes how the situation is looking. "They're completely cut off. I can't get near them."

Outside, Voight cursed at the bastard but still kept positive. "At least he hasn't taken them to the private rooms. Halstead make sure his minions don't see you at the roof. Keep us posted."

"What are you going to do with the money?" You ask him casually. "Buy a car? I sure would. I've been driving that damn ambo more than anything else."

Henry laughs at your words and continues to sip his strong drink that's too fancy for you to even know what it is. "I don't know how you guys do it."

"We don't know how you manage to sit inside your office all day long." Sylvie says.

"It's easy to sit there all day because you're the boss and everyone does what you say." You glance at the black suited gentlemen.

It's easy to order your men to kill your two year old niece so you don't have to feel guilty because you weren't the one that killed her?

"To answer your question dear Y/N. I'm going to use that money to destroy everyone that's bothering me in my life." Bells start ringing in your head and you hope that everyone heard it as well.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I have a really high suspicion of you two being wired and sent here as bait to catch me. Also... You're bothering me and my plans." Two big guys immediately turn around and reach out to grab you. Both of you know there's no way you're going to make it out by sweet talking and when you see Henry reach for his gun something else rings out and before he can shoot you - there's a hole in the center of his forehead and blood is all over you.

A dark skinned bulky man grabs you in his arms and at that exact moment all hell breaks loose. "CHICAGO PD GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!" Atwater starts yelling, gun pointed at the men and you.

"Let them go and we won't have to kill you." You're visibly shaking and tears start forming in your eyes as you try to spot your boyfriend. You're flushed against the man who has his arm wrapped around your waist and gun at your head.

Up on the roof Jay has his eyes only on you. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." He keeps whispering. You're blocking the man and his clear shot, Jay knows that there's no way in hell he's going to shoot his shot with you in grave danger.

Voight and the rest of Intelligence pile in the casino and empty it out in seconds. Every man and woman run out together in sync like sheep. Voight stalks towards you, gun in front of him. "I won't say it again. Let them go and you might just survive."

They stay still and don't let Sylvie and you out of their hold. You can hear Voight say something along the lines of "fine it's your choice" before he fires several bullets your way.

Out of fear and pure adrenaline you duck down and somehow manage to escape the startled man's hold. The glass table in front of you broke because of the bullets Voight fired at it - and you fell right onto the shards.

With precise and calculated movements Jay shoots the four men and drops his firearm on the floor before running towards the stairs that connect the roof to the rest of the building. Jay ran like never before, he wanted to be the one who's going to hold you in his arms and tell you everything is going to be fine.

"Hey Y/N take it easy." You don't hear anyone. Pain rushes through your body and you don't know what's going on around you. The only thing that left your lips was the name of the man you love. Jay.

"He was on the roof. Y/N he saved you." You start crying even harder. Who knows what would've happened to you if Jay didn't shoot them.

"Y/N?!" It's enough for you to hear his voice to start fighting against the pain of the cuts.

When your eyes spot his frame and worried face you break down in his arms even harder. While his arms were wrapped around your neck and face buried in your styled but now messed up hair Jay thanked the heavens above for your safety. He also cursed himself because he let you go through with your decision.

His lips found the top of your head, your ears and forehead. And when your eyes met his lips found your own. Both of you melted into the kiss after thinking you might never be able to experience the electricity of it ever again.

"Y-you saved me." You looked at him while he shook his head.

"I shouldn't have let this happen to you," When he noticed the cuts on your arms and knees he grabbed your hands gently and twined them with his. When he raised them to his lips he pressed soft apologetic kisses against your knuckles.

He could see that you were still visibly shaking and therefore he took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. He didn't let you go because he wrapped his strong arm around your back and upper arm keeping you close.

You leaned into his touch and let him lead you out of the horror filled casino. Flashing lights of the police cars blinded you for a short second and the many people outside scared you but Jay pushed through them and didn't let them touch you in any way. Interrogating that some of them wanted to do would have to wait and the look on his face made it clear so they didn't even have to ask.

You saw Sylvie who sat at the floor of the ambulance while the two paramedics dotted over her for any injuries.

Jay led you to the other ambulance. "She has cuts all over her body. I think some shards might still be in there."

The paramedic nodded, "We got it from here detective."

You didn't like the dismissal she gave Jay and so you immediately reached for his hand even though it hurt you to do so. "I'm staying." He stole the words right out of your mouth. The paramedic nodded and continued to check you.

"We need to take out the shards and you're gonna need stitches." She informed you after a while and then she looked at Jay. "We need someone to go with her."

"I'll go. I'm her boyfriend." Jay left no room for questions or disagreements as he made himself comfortable next to you in the ambulance. "I got you babe. You're going to be fine."

You were still shaken up and you will probably be like that for days, or maybe even weeks. You wouldn't wish this on anyone. You came out of it alive but you knew you were going to be scarred for life. Physically from the shards of glass and mentally. Your brain won't let you forget this, you just knew it. 

Eventually the events catched up to you and you let yourself close your eyes and slip away into the darkness. It was so easy to do that because you felt safe and at peace because you knew that while Jay Halstead was next to you no one will touch you.

The ride to the hospital passed in a blur and the only thing that you felt were the soft kisses and safety from Jay.

[irrlicht-writes]

the path we choose to walk on pt.4

So this is it. Part 4, everyone. The last part! We made it to the end! Wooo! (now I have to focus on my bang again) Thank you for being with me. I hope you enjoyed the ride. Tell me what you thought! Tell me what you liked! Tell me what you hated! (be nice though) @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @cass-said-i-love-you @professorerudite @insertdeeplyrics anyone else want on the tag list?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Ao3

Part 4: let the good times roll

Sam and Eileen gift a painting set to Castiel one day. Dean isn’t sure why but they say it’s because he saved their baby. Later Cas admits to Dean that he barely remembers what happened.

As it turns out, Castiel sees the world vastly different than Dean. Dean’s no art critic, nor could he detect a masterpiece in the making but to him, Cas’ pieces feel alive. There is a certain aspect to them.

Castiel paints mostly with his fingers and the faces of the people are wonky at best but still, they stare right into Dean’s heart.

“They are dead,” Cas says, “but with this, they’re alive. There was a world people cannot understand today. You have changed so much in so little time and yet it remains – you will always look at the world with wonder in your eyes.”

 Charlie helps them sell Cas’ art online. They sell somewhat well and Dean thinks that Cas is happy that he gets to help. Cas had said that he would’ve like to take a real job, but Dean shut him down very quickly.

Nobody would want to hire Cas – first, Cas didn’t even properly exist. And second; there would be too many days where Cas would have to stay at home. Any employer would only allow so many sick days and Dean is afraid of sending Cas to a therapist.

Even though he knows that they all probably need one, how would you even start explaining?

“Yeah, roughly 15 years ago I set off with my brother to find our dad and now our son turned into God. Oh and also we picked up this literal angel as our best friend and all of us – our son concluded who by the way was fathered by Lucifer – have died several times and then we just kind of went going.”

Yeah. No.

Not to mention all the additional bullshit Castiel would have to unpack. Dean’s been in a mental constitution once; he doesn’t really have to go there again. And he certainly doesn’t want Cas to go there – also, again.

The bees are still on Dean’s mind. He doesn’t need a repeat of that.

And anyway, the paintings are selling. And in time, they might even be able to ask for more money. Dean doesn’t really hold out hope but who knows?

 Two years after Maria is born, Sam and Eileen get married. Dean knows that they’ve been discussing marriage for a long time and have never been able to decide whether it was for them or not. But then Eileen proposed and here they are.

“She asked me to accompany her with the ring shopping. I think she just wanted to use me for my fingers,” Cas says to Dean and Dean smirks.

“Do you think Jack’ll show up?”

“I don’t know. I’ve told him; and I’m sure he knows but whether or not he’ll actually show up... it would be good to see him again. But even if he can’t make it here, he’ll be watching over these two.”

They are about to begin the ceremony and Dean’s excited to be the Best Man. He’s never thought he’d get to be that for real so it feels like a dream. Maria’s supposed to be the Flower Girl but she hasn’t shown up yet.

“Cas,” Charlie rushes over to them. Cas blinks up at her, tilting his head.

“Maria doesn’t want to walk, she’s embarrassed. Do you think you can help her out?”

Maria has gotten overly attached to Cas in these past two years and Dean believes it’s just infatuation. After all, who could look into these big blue eyes and not fall for them? Dean, however, is a little bit upset over the fact that she likes Cas better than him. But he’ll just wait until Maria will appreciate cars. And that’s when Dean will win.

“Of course,” Cas replies, “come on, Miracle.”

Miracle has essentially become Castiel’s therapy dog. She follows him everywhere and makes sure he eats and drinks enough. She loves Cas to pieces and anyone who even looks at the angel wrong gets growled at.

Dean watches them walk away and gets his phone out. He knows that there is a photographer here that films things but he wants that piece for himself. And he has to go up there anyway, so he might just go now anyway.

It takes five more minutes before Cas was apparently able to convince Maria to come out – and even then, she’s getting carried. She’s holding the flower basket close to her chest and Cas encourages her to throw the petals down. Dean’s heart melts at the sight of them.

Cas stops next to the pew where Claire and Kaia are sitting and basically tells Maria to throw flowers on them. Claire laughs and playfully shoves Cas away from them. Jody and Donna are also getting petals thrown in their face. Everybody is smiling and Dean’s happy that he’s filming this.

Maria is giggling and throwing petals all over the place. “She was so stiff before,” Charlie whispers in his direction.

“She wasn’t even looking at me and now look at that. How is Cas’ gayness softer than mine?”

“You’re just intimidating.”

“Cas is an angel!”

 Eileen is beautiful when she walks down the aisle. Sam next to him exhales and has the biggest smile on his stupid face.

“Mama so pretty!” Maria proclaims loudly while clapping her hands.

“Yes, she is,” Cas replies a little quieter. He has her sitting on his lap and he has a flower in his hair. Apparently Maria was supposed to give that to her mom but she had decided that it was for Cas, so now he was wearing the flower. It does fit him, Dean thinks.

The ceremony itself goes over without a hitch even though Sam almost breaks down crying twice. Dean was expecting more, if he’s honest. Maybe Sammy practised with Cas – apparently Cas is the solution to every problem.

Later, at the party, Dean holds an embarrassing speech about Sam and after, Sam dunks his head into a pie. This is fair, because Dean definitely deserves that. It’s all good, though. Cas laughs and wipes Dean’s face clean and Maria – still in Cas’ lap – giggles like it’s Christmas.

Dean dances with Eileen and Sam dances with Cas and Maria. Charlie’s taking pictures and Dean loves it. Cas can’t dance for very long and he leans heavily onto Sam but he tries his best for Sam and Maria both.

Dean loves him.

And someday, he’ll man up enough to actually say these words. He just needs a little bit longer. And Cas is here to stay. Dean’ll work up the courage he needs and then it’ll be alright.

 Charlie is dancing with Maria and Eileen is sitting next to Cas. She’s taken her shoes off and is likely complaining to the angel that her feet hurt. Cas is holding the wedding bouquet now and Dean knows that Eileen will insist he keep it.

“I wish she would’ve thrown it,” Claire says and Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

“You were hoping to catch it, weren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

 At the end, Jack didn’t show. The party had ended a while ago, but Dean and Castiel are still sitting on a bench outside. It’s a nice night, and Dean doesn’t want to drive home yet. There are no clouds in the sky and the stars are shining bright. Dean reckons that that’s Jack’s doing. He still wishes he would’ve shown his face.

“Don’t be mad at him,” Castiel says while leaning on Dean’s shoulder. “You know he doesn’t do that well with a lot of people.”

Yes. That is true but still – he hadn’t even come to congratulate Sam? He also still hadn’t come to meet Maria yet. Dean wonders what work a God has to do. Didn’t Jack say he wanted to be hands off?

“Don’t you miss him?” Dean asks.

“Every day,” Castiel replies.

Castiel raises a hand towards the sky and Dean sees a shooting star. But the star stops after it passes Cas’ hand.

Castiel retracts his hand and there’s a golden orb floating above his palm.

“What’s that?”

It glows brightly and it’s almost too much for Dean to look at. It compels him in the same way it tells him to stay away from it. Where did it come from? Why is it here? What’s it going to do?

“Divinity,” Castiel quietly replies and closes his hand, making the orb disappear.

 *

 “Dean, really?”

Dean sighs. He knew it was a mistake to talk to Sam about this. But he knows that Charlie would’ve squealed in his ear and honestly, Claire is still a bit too young for this to talk about it. And yeah sure, Eileen would’ve been an option but even after all this time, Dean still hasn’t improved on his signing skills.

“I know it’s stupid.”

“I didn’t say that. But have you even choked up an I love you?”

Dean is quiet.

“Oh my god, I knew it. Dean, you can’t just propose like that!”

“...shut up.”

He pockets the box inside his jacket. He doesn’t want to propose right now anyway. It’s more like a promise to himself, that one day he might be worthy of this. If – when he’ll find the words one day, he’ll be good enough for Cas. He can be.

He will be.

For Cas, the best thing that ever happened to him.

For Cas, who still thinks he’s barely tolerated.

For Cas, who sees the world as more than it is.

For Cas, who loves so much and has never been loved in return.

 Their first kiss doesn’t quite happen as Dean would’ve imagined it – not that he had ever been imagining it in the first place.

Cas is watching Dancing With The Stars and he’s really fascinated. Apparently, he’s never danced before. Dean’s never told him about Garth and Bess dancing in front of the window. He wonders how they’re doing now. Maybe they’re dancing right at this moment, while Sam and Castiel are finally asleep?

“Dean, please?” Castiel’s blue eyes are pleading and Dean has a hard time saying no. Cas always asks for so little and Dean’s always liked dancing when he got a chance to do it – which sadly is not often. So he sighs and stands up from the couch, offering his hand up to Cas.

“Might I have this dance, milady?”

Cas blinks at him in question, and then looks at the outstretched hand. At last, there’s a smile stealing itself across Castiel’s face and he gently takes Dean’s hand and hauls himself up.

“Of course, my lord.”

Dean chuckles and pulls Cas flush against him. It’s been a while since they were this close together without one of them on literal death’s door. Cas is alive and warm under his hands and Dean starts swaying. He’s never danced a real dance, much less so with another man. But it’s not like Cas could dance at all, so it’s okay. And besides – it’s not about the skill, it’s about the experience. And Cas –

Cas is laughing. It’s a happy laugh and he enjoys himself. It’s truly a sight to see. It’s rare to see Cas so relaxed and Dean feels more than privileged to witness this much less be the cause of it. Dean swirls Cas on the spot and as the swirl ends, Cas stumbles forward against Dean’s chest. Dean holds him tight and it’s a good feeling.

Cas’ hair is brushing against Dean’s chin and he feels calm. He gently puts one hand on Castiel’s cheek and Cas nuzzles into it. Castiel’s hand is loosely laying on Dean’s chest and the volume of the TV playing in the background is already fading away.

Dean’s in love.

He’s in love with Castiel.

He gently directs Castiel’s face upwards and looks at the big, blue, blinking eyes.

He doesn’t understand how he got to be so lucky.

Dean bends down, just a little, and ever so gently presses his lips against Castiel’s mouth.

It’s a quiet kiss, one that doesn’t require anything.

“Dean,” is all that Cas says afterwards but Dean quietly hushes him.

“Shh,” he replies and kisses him again.

It’s easier than anything else he’s ever done.

He doesn’t remember why he was ever afraid of this.

This, right here, is where he’s meant to be.

With the TV running in the background, in his shitty apartment, in worn-out clothes, with a dog sleeping in her bed, kissing Castiel.

Sometimes things are just easy.

Dean holds Castiel tight and thankfully, Castiel doesn’t speak.

It’s the most comforting silence and Dean cherishes it.

He’s in love.

 *

 It’s a soft thing, after. Nothing changes and yet, so much is different.

He kisses Cas in the morning before he goes to work; in the afternoon when he returns; when they make dinner; when they watch TV.

It’s the easiest thing in the world.

And yet, Dean knows that Cas wonders.

I know you don’t love me.

But Dean does. He just can’t say it. If he did, then – then what would John say? Dad would judge him for this. Dad would call him a girl; and a fairy; and tell Dean that Dad hadn’t raised a gay son.

 He’s still thinking about this in bed. Next to him, Cas is fast asleep, holding onto Dean’s arm. Miracle is snoring in her own doggy bed.

“I love Cas,” Dean says toneless into the dark room and is instantly overcome by anxiety. Somehow, even after all these years, he expects John to bust through the door and expose him and nail him to the cross or something.

He turns to his side and looks at Cas. The angel looks so relaxed in his sleep and Dean gently pats his hair. Cas mumbles a bit and burrows closer to Dean as if to seek warmth. Dean puts his free arm around him and pulls him as close as possible, tucking the angel under his chin.

He doesn’t know what to do. Cas deserves to be told. But whenever Dean thinks it might be the right time for it – then there’s John standing in the distance, observing and judging him. Dean knows he just has to do it, that he just has to push through. Dad is dead and nothing can happen anymore. But this fear is far too ingrained inside his brain. Maybe writing a letter would help? But somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.

Dean needs to say it.

He has to say it.

But he can’t.

He can’t.

For all his bravery, for all his courage – he can’t.

 “A bird learns to fly when it falls.”

Cas is not in bed when Dean wakes up.

“Water will whittle away the mountain.”

Cas is nowhere to be found inside the apartment. Miracle is quiet.

“A flower will break through the concrete.”

Dean panics. In his panic, he runs outside.

“Long after its death, a star will remain in the sky.”

 Outside it’s foggy.

But there is Cas.

Cas is standing outside, barefooted, and Dean is rooted to the spot.

There are golden orbs floating around Castiel.

Divinity, Cas had called them.

“Cas,” Dean breathes and the angel turns around.

“Hello, Dean.”

 “What are those?”

“I’ve told you. Divinity.”

“Yes, I know, but what are they?”

“A burden shared is a burden lifted. Ever since I woke all the way back before time existed, a great many stars have died. And still, some remain in the sky. Did you never wonder where they go?

Their physical form shall burn from velocity, but what about the stars? What about them? Who catches them? Where do they go? Shall they forever be lost in space?

I was lost too, you know. I was lost ever since the start. Sometimes I think I remember. Sometimes I think I remember an all consuming light in the dark. Sometimes I think I remember the beginning before it ever began. Sometimes I think I remember the void, the naught.

And then, just as quickly, I lose it again.

Why did Father abandon us?

Why did He create so many of us, if none of us mattered?

Come with us, the stars whispered to me, we have no answers but mayhap we shall find them.

Why did the stars exist, if only to die? I didn’t want them to be lost and so I collected them. I found them in the void and I took them with me for I thought I might find a purpose within them. And in time, they started finding me. I became their haven, their destination.

But still, I was lost. Each time a star would find me, I think I can see the light in the void again, the end after the end. But soon these memories are gone, too, and I can only hold on to scraps. And I wonder.

What if I don’t remember at all? What if what I see are just fragments from the stars, showing me what they saw in their last moments?

Dean, you must know: time is not linear. What happens before will happen after. The end happens before the start and sometimes the beginning happens in the middle. This time, this life is just one stream amongst them all.

Some stars tell me of the end; and others tell me of the start. Maybe some tell me of the middle. And maybe some tell me of all, and all I get is the light in the void at the start.

I’ve wondered.

Why am I broken?

Why am I, of all the angels, the only one that’s cracked?

What went wrong?

Why was it only ever me? Why wasn’t perfect like the others? Why weren’t others cracked as I was?

Why was I the only one that’s ever looked to the stars and collected them?

What if Father never made me?

What if – what if I was created by something else?

And if so, what was it? And why? And why did Father allow me to continue existing? Did He perhaps just not notice? Did He perhaps just not care? Did He perhaps just think me merely another insignificant angel that He needn’t pay attention to?

What broke the connection?

Why am I the only angel to love you?

Was I whole before, perhaps, but if that was so – what shattered me? What put me back together? Where did the missing pieces go?

The light I remember in the naught – what is it? Where does it come from? Why does it matter at all, why do I care if it lights up the void or not?

Why do I cling to a light that does not matter?

I –

I’m lost, Dean.

Amidst the stars, I am lost.

From here on out, where do I go?”

 Dean reaches out.

Castiel is standing there all alone, surrounded by what remains of the stars – surrounded by divinity.

He takes Castiel’s hand.

“Go with me,” he says.

“I love you,” he says.

Amidst the stars, Castiel smiles.

Dean thinks he can see the light that Castiel spoke about.

It’s a soft, shining light and it’s free.

 *

 “I don’t know if I can.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a big thing, Cas, you know? What if I fail?”

“Then we’ll fail together.”

 Dean buys a corner lot. It’s very expensive. But he has a dream. He doesn’t want to work construction forever. He deserves to be happy. And Cas is here. Cas is here, and Sam is here, and Eileen is here – and everyone is here.

He’s not alone and he can rely on all these people. They want to help him; they want him to be happy. He can do this. For the first time in his life, he can do something solely for himself.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have to depend only on himself.

 *

 Sam hoists Maria out of the car seat. He wants to go and help Eileen out of the car but if he did, she’d kick him in the shin.

“Are there no balloons?” Maria wants to know. Sam looks up. True, there are no balloons outside.

“I’m sure Uncle Dean’s got some inside, sweetheart.”

Maria grins from ear to ear and hugs her monkey toy harder. Cas had given it to her just a few years ago. It hadn’t even been her birthday; he had just wanted to give something to his niece. Sam is glad that they get along so well. But sometimes he debates: should they tell her that Cas is an angel? It’s not a problem right now, but he and Dean and Eileen will start aging one day while Cas will not.

But, ah well, it might be best to cross that bridge when they’d get there.

“Hunter’s Rest is a nice name,” Eileen says when she finally steps next to Sam. Sam just nods. It’s true. Sam had kept suggesting Roadhouse, in Ellen’s and Ash’s and Jo’s legacy but Dean had always refused. Dean hadn’t wanted to be a copy-cat of what they’ve been.

Dean wants something that’s his own.

And Sam couldn’t be happier for him.

It was a long road, getting here, and even now he could scarcely believe it.

But the Hunter’s Rest is officially opening today.

He smiles at Eileen, takes both his girl’s hands and enters Dean’s bar.

 “Uncle Dean!”

Maria yells as soon as she spots her uncle and throws herself at his middle from across the room. Dean laughs and catches her. He lifts her up and holds her on his hip.

“How’s my favourite tornado?”

She giggles and hugs him tight.

“Where’s Uncle Cas?”

“He’s still in the back, sweetheart. Be nice to him today, okay? It’s not a good day. But I know he’ll be happy to see you, so why don’t you go say hello?”

Maria nods with a solemn expression on her face. She knows about Uncle Cas’ bad days. She shouldn’t be too loud on these and she has to understand that he might not want to play as much with her. She loves Uncle Cas. She wouldn’t tell this to anyone because she knows Uncle Dean would be upset, but Uncle Cas is her favourite. There’s a glow about him that she can’t explain to anyone, but it draws her to him.

Uncle Dean puts her on the ground and she goes to find Uncle Cas. When she finds him, he smiles at her. He looks tired and sick, but he glows so brightly today.

“Hello, Maria,” he greets her.

She steps closer and climbs into his lap.

“I love you,” she says and Uncle Cas hugs her tight.

 “Looks good, Dean,” Sam says to Dean in the meantime. Dean grins and pulls his brother close. He nods at Eileen who waves back.

“How are we coming along?” he asks her and she rubs her stomach.

“Good,” she replies, “the doctor says it’s two.”

“Two, huh? Man, Sammy, you dog!”

Sam laughs and Dean slaps him on the shoulder.

“Maria was really hoping for some balloons,” Sam says and Dean shrugs.

“I have some in the back, but I don’t know if I should hang them up. It’s gonna be a few hours still until official opening, you know?”

“Are Charlie and Stevie coming?”

“Yeah, Charlie’s gonna help me set up the music. The others are coming too, but Donna can’t make it. Some important thing came up but she’s gonna drop by in the coming days.”

Sam nods.

“There should be balloons,” Eileen pipes up and Dean sighs deeply.

“Fine,” he says then, “but y’all are helping me with that. I ain’t the only one blowing these things up.”

“I overheard,” Cas says as he’s rolling out of the back in his wheelchair. On his lap, there are Maria and a big load of balloons.

Dean sighs. “Why am I being set up?”

Castiel smiles at Dean. “Because balloons make everything better. We should’ve gotten glitter, too, you know? We’ll help, Dean.”

 “Bad day, huh?” Sam asks him while they are placing the balloons. Dean nods.

“Last couple days actually. Yesterday was the worst; he wouldn’t even get out of bed. The day before that, he spent almost all day puking into the toilet. But he’s getting better now, I think. It’s just – I know that he’s sick. I know that these days happen and that they’ll happen again, it just – it just fucking scares me, y’know? Knowing that there’s nothing I can do, no spell to find to cure him or anything – it just makes me feel so helpless.”

Sam puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean, you’re doing great. What you’re going through – what you both are going through – is extremely stressful. I can’t even imagine. I can’t imagine all the hurdles you had to go through to get here. How scary it has to be to wake at night and see Cas being sick again. I’m proud of you, Dean. I really am. You’re holding it together so well and if – if you ever have to break, I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. You’re not alone. You’re never alone, Dean.”

Dean huffs out a laugh and turns to hug his brother.

It’s true.

Their lone journey is over.

They started with just the two of them.

But they’re never going to be alone again.

 *

 “I love you,” Dean whispers into dark hair.

“I don’t know when I fell in love. I don’t know when I realised. But I love you. I love all of you.

We’ve endured a great many things, you and I. We fell and rose together, we burned and crashed together. And in all this time, you weren’t even supposed to be there. But you were. You fought and clawed your way back to me every single time, and I’ve never even said thank you. I never once appreciated all the pain and misery you had to endure just to get back to me.

No matter what, you were there. You were there for me and Sam when nobody else was. You stayed by your side since the very beginning and you overturned everything you believed in because you started to believe in me. You had faith in me, the man without faith. And through you – you became my faith. I believed in nothing, I had faith in nothing – except you. I had faith in you. When you were gone, so was my faith gone. And when you returned, you brought it back with you.

When we met, you told me that good things do happen.

For so long, I didn’t believe you. But you were right. And know what? That good thing that would happen to me was right in front of me. And we didn’t know. Neither of us knew. Who could’ve imagined?

A man afraid of flying and an angel afraid of falling.

We really did meet in the middle, huh?

I’m sorry, Cas. I never did right by you. All your life you thought you were wrong because you weren’t like the others. You always believed that you needed to atone for your sins someway. And I – I didn’t help you. I made you think that you were expendable, that you weren’t worth anything. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, because I was wrong.

You’re worth everything. You matter so much, Cas – to me, to Sam, to the world. I’m sorry that all of us have fallen short. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make it up to you for all eternity, because I love you. If you’ll have me for whatever reason, then I’m yours. And I’m never going to let go. If I lose you, I will stop at nothing to find you again.

It’s you and me. Now and forever.”

“Look for the light,” Castiel whispers into the darkness.

“Look for the light and you’ll always find me there.”

 *

 At the end of a long, long life, Dean opens his eyes.

Above him, there’s nothing but endless stretches of blue sky.

Dean sits up and looks around.

He’s in an onion field and he stands up.

He turns to the side and sees him there.

 There’s a trench-coat angel standing in the onion field, surrounded by the golden orbs of stars.

The wings behind him are magnificent and have the colour of a rainbow.

 Dean starts approaching him.

Behind the angel, there is a massive tree.

 “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

[zosonils]

surely post some autistic ferb things for us all,,,,,,

hell yeah anon!! here’s an absolute hell dump of Ferb Autism Indulgence Things because i have really been wanting to get my grubby little autistic hands all over him lately

his special interests are engineering and tetris [which is the game he’s internationally ranked in!]

he stims vocally by humming or repeating other vocalisations, but rarely with actual words

if he’s too nervous to vocalise/just not in the mood he goes for small hand movements to stim like clicking pens or tapping his fingers

he does flappy hands/arms when he has a lot of excitement to release! otherwise he prefers to stick to smaller/more subtle motions for a variety of reasons

he only repeats actual words as echolalia, almost always off of either phineas or perry! that thing they do where perry chatters and the boys mimic it and they all just loop off each other for a while is absolutely an echolalia loop for all of them [yes even the platypus]

a very epic headcanon i have is that owca agents are typically labelled as having therapy animal training to give them some more wiggle room with showing intelligence, so perry is officially a therapy platypus for the flynn-fletcher kids, especially the boys. ferb does the aforementioned echolalia chatter thing with perry and also just generally finds him extremely comforting to hold. of course perry’s figured out all of ferb and his siblings’ needs by observation and makes sure to subtly be as comforting as possible for his kids, especially if they’re having a meltdown and need to hold someone who won’t try to talk to them

ferb genuinely dislikes communicating verbally, due to a combination of general social anxiety, struggling to translate his thoughts into words, and finding it physically uncomfortable to talk. it’s not serious enough to prevent him from cracking a joke or vocalising his thoughts every once in a while, but he prefers to be nonverbal as much as possible and communicate through gestures and body language

throughout the series he only ever speaks on his own terms and as much as he’s comfortable with, so it comes out without issue, but if he’s forced to talk when he doesn’t want to or while he’s under stress he struggles to string sentences together and stutters really badly. fortunately he’s got nice friends and a great family so this issue rarely presents itself, although it comes up sometimes during the school year in battles with pissy neurotypical teachers over oral presentations

over time he starts to work past the discomfort [genuinely, it’s on his own terms as opposed to masking to get allistics off his back] so that by the time he’s an adult he can hold an entirely verbal conversation for a decent while before it drains him, but he still tends to avoid speaking if he can

phineas instinctively understands ferb’s silent emotional cues, a lot better than he understands most people’s [but that’s a whole other infodump lmao], and unless ferb actively indicates that he wants to talk for himself phineas usually speaks for both of them and translates any of ferb’s less neurotypically obvious signals

phineas and ferb made The Ultimate Fidget Cube as one of their daily projects [they were being mass produced for an hour or two and then something or other happened, there was a mobile phone and an avalanche of instant noodles, long story short only the handful they made for themselves and their friends are left now] and neither of them go anywhere without it

ferb doesn’t have any specific comfort/security objects but he feels significantly more at ease if he’s got some kind of tool in his hand or within reach [or, failing an actual building-stuff tool, anything he can hold and Do Something with, like a pen or his fidget cube or a video game controller], and is a lot more stimmy with his hands and generally anxious if he isn’t holding something

perry performs the task of comfort item better than any inanimate objects but platypi aren’t allowed to come to school even if they’re very polite :(

believe me the brothers have tested this numerous times

school is stressful for ferb because it fires up his sensory overload and is usually where he’s forced to do some neurotypical shit that upsets him, but his friends always have his back and linda and lawrence are definitely super involved in making sure their kids’ needs are met and respected by their teachers, so he manages pretty well unless something really bad happens to set him off

he’s susceptible to sensory overload, mostly with bright lights, sudden noises, and being touched. the light and sound involved in many of his and phineas’ projects is alright because he usually designed them and knows exactly when they’ll come on and what it’ll be like, but if he doesn’t have that prediction available he freaks out easily. being touched [especially without warning] is the absolute fucking worst and he almost invariably flips out if someone unfamiliar tries to touch him or he’s hit with an unexpected sensation he doesn’t like

he only rarely has meltdowns because he’s good at self-regulating when he needs to and his friends and family know what does and doesn’t fly with him, but when he does they’re often triggered by either sensory overload or being forced to talk

when ferb starts entering meltdown territory his verbal skills are the first thing to shut off, and if it gets worse he usually stops communicating altogether and enters a really bad dissociative state that he won’t come out of until he feels safe again and can be carefully brought back to his senses

standard procedure for ferb meltdowns is to get him a weighted blanket and some tea and a perry if you can find the slippery little bugger, let him snap back to reality at his own pace, and once he can communicate his needs again pay extra close attention to them until he calms down enough that he can properly self-regulate again

his favourite sensations are weight/pressure, the funky bumpy shit perry’s tail has going on, and anything soft!

most of his clothes [including his usual outfit in the show] are tight-fitting but made out of soft fabric for maximum comfy

the blanket on his bed is a weighted one, but if he’s too far from his room or it’s too hot to be comfortable under a blanket sometimes he’ll just find the tightest spot he can wedge himself into without getting hurt or stuck and squish himself in there to calm down a bit

his favourite food texture is crunchy stuff, and he samefoods with particular cereals and sandwich combos that rotate every few months when he finally gets tired of the exact same breakfast and lunch every day and wants slightly different identical meals

while he’s fine with variation from day to day, he’s very firmly attached to the summer/weekend formula of wake up > cereal > big idea > where’s perry > [building montage] > mom holy fuck > sandwich > [having fun montage] > our fuckoff massive contraption has vanished somehow > oh there you are perry > snacks > nondescript vibing > dinner > bed time, and if this schedule gets significantly thrown off it really bothers him

ferb shows his emotions more subtly than neurotypicals, which can make him seem hard to read, but his external emotional range is still extremely distinct - he just expresses it in atypical ways sometimes!

one of his most notable atypical emotional cues is that thing he does when he’s startled and he pulls his hands up - he does this in we call it maze when candace falls over on her skates in the beginning, split personality when busting candace scares him, lost in danville when he’s worried another capsule might fall on him or phineas, and the phineas and ferb effect during how do i do it when milo’s exercise bike crashes, just to name a few instances! this boy has Unique Emotional Cues and i love him for it so much

he’s better at reading emotions than phineas [as low as that bar is], but sometimes misses more subtle cues and doesn’t quite trust his ability to read anyone aside from phineas, candace, and his closest friends

he’s been aware that he’s neurodivergent ever since he was diagnosed as a little kid [he was first diagnosed with autism when he was extremely baby, not even three years old, and had it continually reconfirmed as he got older] and he’s been entirely happy with being autistic for as long as he’s known what that even means, with this only being reinforced as he found siblings and made friends with other autistic kids :)

good lord this is such an infodump i’m sorry i just love my son so very much and have been feeling particularly self indulgent today ;<;

[deadanddeactivated]

Oooh and a Fae one, "You helped me. And now I will help you."

@magpiemorality​ said: That last one with Roman and any side!!

Favours

Ships: Prinxiety, Dukceit Characters: Roman, Virgil.  Remus and De mentioned, Pats there for a little bitSummary: “You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  Funny how a phrase can mean so many things.

Notes: I’m not sure how this ended up prinxiety but it did so i hope you dont mind and its also a lot fluffier than the last one.  I hope you enjoy!!

Ao3 || KoFi

--

“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  The first time Roman says it is immediately after the human has freed him.  The iron cuff lays on the forest ground, mechanical lock picked with learned skill and the runes picked with unintentional intent.  It had taken an hour, an hour the human had spent calmly speaking to him while he focused.  

He hadn’t known what Roman was, that was clear from the moment he stepped into the clearing.  He’d so foolishly given his name.  He was lucky everything Roman was had been suppressed by those runes.  Or perhaps unlucky, a returned name was an easy favour to give.  

And an easy favour appeared to be what Virgil wanted, staring at the freed fae with wide and panicked eyes.  An easy favour isn’t what Roman wants, too amused by Virgil’s fright.  It was so different to what he’d shown just moments ago when he was convinced Roman was a human victim or some cruel madman.

“I didn’t, I didn’t help you for a favour.”  Virgil says, taking another step back and gulping.  “You don’t, I mean, I don’t want anything in return.  Thank you.”  He adds, desperately trying to cling to manners even when it’s obvious he wants to run.  

An easy favour won’t do at all.

“You’re owed a favour.”  Roman says, hoping his amusement isn’t too obvious.  He doesn’t want to scare Virgil off completely.  

“I really shouldn’t be.”  Virgil argues.  “I was just helping, it’s only right.”  

“It’s only right I help you in return.”  Roman says, mouth twitching with a smile he really shouldn’t show.  The human’s eyes dart around, clearly trying to think of something to say.  

“I can’t, I can’t think of anything I need help with.”  He says after a moment.  “So, consider us even.  I have to go home now.  Thank you.”  He adds, giving a quick, polite bow before walking from the clearing.  As soon as he thinks he’s out of sight, he starts running.  

Clearly he doesn’t know that being owed a favour means Roman can’t hurt him.  Clearly he doesn’t know much about favours at all.  One can’t simply refuse a favour, not a favour owed by the fae.  It’s refreshing, Roman thinks, to see a human that doesn’t know how a favour can be lorded over a fae.

Or maybe he just wouldn’t.  After the hour they’d spent together, Roman would believe it.

--

“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  The second time Roman says is two days later.  It’s the first time he’s felt Virgil need help since they met and Roman jumped on the chance to appear.  Things have been settled back home - the witch that captured him has been dealt with, his brother has been assured he’s fine - Roman has nothing better to do than to grant Virgil a favour.

Or, more accurately, watch Virgil jump.  Which Roman appearing most certainly made him do, the human almost stumbling back into the aisle behind him.  De would be proud of how well Roman managed to hold in his laughter.

“I, uh, I thought we were even.”  Virgil manages once he’s recovered.  

“That’s not how favours work.”  Roman says.  “You’re still owed one.”

“I don’t need help.”  Virgil says and then quickly adds, “thank you.”

“You clearly need help.”  Roman says, trying and failing to hold back a smirk.  “Are all mortals so short?”

“I’m not short.”  Virgil huffs, glaring for a moment before quickly looking away.  “You’re just tall.”

“I am.”  Roman agrees.  “But you’re still short.”  He grabs the box of biscuits Virgil couldn’t reach and places it inside the human’s trolley. 

“Thank you.”  Virgil says, sounding more annoyed than he probably means too.  “We’re even then.”  This time Roman can’t help but laugh.  He immediately regrets that, it makes Virgil tense with fear.

“That’s not how favours work.”  He says, forcing himself to calm down and lean away from Virgil’s space.  That calms the human a little bit.  “You saved my life, I’m in your debt until I can do something of equal value.”  Virgil actually did more than that, considering Roman was merely a trap, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I was only trying to help.  I don’t need anything in return.”  Virgil mumbles.

“That doesn’t make you any less entitled to it.”  Roman grins.  Then, when Virgil blinks, he disappears. 

--

“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  It’s become something of a greeting over the last few weeks, one that never fails to make Virgil jump.  At least a little bit anyway.  Lucky for Virgil, today only gets a little jolt and the stack of papers in his hand are mostly okay.  

“I don’t need help.”  Virgil huffs.  He’d accidentally given up trying to be polite, but when Roman didn’t turn him into a frog (or whatever it was mortals think the fae do) he gave it up on purpose.

“Why not?”  Roman asks, taking half the stack of papers with limited complaining on Virgil’s part.  Maybe he thinks all these little favours will add up in the end.  Jokes on him, Roman’s doing this because he likes Virgil’s company.

“I can handle school myself.  I don’t need or want to cheat.”  Virgil says.

“You don’t know I was going to cheat for you.”  Roman claims, smirking when Virgil just shoots him a look.  “Well it wouldn’t be cheating, exactly, you’d just get to know everything right away.”

“And then what?  I’d still have to sit through my lectures.  I’d get bored.”  Virgil argues.

“Alright, alright.”  Roman gives in.  “Okay, I’ll make it so you can see the answers on the test before you write them.”

“That’s cheating!”  Virgil snaps then sighs.  “I don’t need help.”  He repeats.

“Fine.”  Roman sighs, dramatic as Remus.  He still works Virgil to the teachers office, holding the other half of the papers until there’s too much risk of being seen. 

He still works a little magic to make Virgil’s teacher lay off.

It’s not a favour, Virgil might never even notice, and De would likely call it a waste of time.

Roman thinks it’s worth seeing a little weight lift off of Virgil’s shoulders.

--

“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  Roman says, a little more seriously than usual, late one night while Virgil pours over bills.  Virgil looks his worst when he’s like this.  Hair a mess, reading glasses on his face, a notebook covered in numbers and priority lists.  Normally there’s a level of calm to his appearance, even if he still looks like a mess.  But his son’s in bed and there’s no one to act for.

Roman hates looking at Virgil like this.

“I don’t need help.”  Virgil says, tired and annoyed and over it.  Without a thought, Roman has a cup of honey milk preparing.  (He’d never drink it himself, of course, but it seems to help mortals calm down).

“I could make it easy.”  He could.  He would.  It’s not a normal favour, Roman knows that.  Most fae want easy favours, they want the debt paid immediately.  Making Virgil’s life easy?  That’s a favour that will last a lifetime.  A debt that would last a lifetime.

Roman wonders if Virgil understands the significance of that.

“No.”

Probably not.

“Why not?”  Roman asks, quiet and soft and with his back turned to Virgil so he doesn’t see how much it stings.

“There’s strings.”  Virgil mumbles, he sounds so tired.  “With any magic favour, there’s strings.  If you make my life easier, you’re making someones harder.”

“You don’t know that.”  Roman claims.  Even he doesn’t know that.  But he doesn’t really think about it either, so…

“Money doesn’t come from nowhere.”  Virgil agrees.  Roman shrugs.  Human money is a forgein concept to him.  “It comes from someone.  What if they need it?”

“What if they don’t?”

“What if they track it down?”  

“What if they can’t?  It’s magic.”

“What if they get a different fae, or a demon, or something to get revenge?  They’re magic, they could figure it out.”  

“I’d protect you.”

“You wouldn’t owe me a favour.

I’d do it anyway.  

Roman doesn’t say that because he’s pretty sure Virgil would understand what that meant.  Instead he lets them drop into silence.  Safe, if sombre, silence.

“Alright.”  Roman eventually gives up on silence too.  “So your favour can’t have strings, and it can’t be cheating.”  He says.  “Anything else?”

“I don’t want a favour.”  Virgil sighs.  Roman just hums and a few minutes later, when Virgil slumps against the table asleep, he carries the human to bed.  Once his human is tucked in, safe and sound and maybe admired for a moment, Roman returns to the table.

Well, he thinks with a sigh, he’ll have to ask De how human money works.

--

“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  The next time Roman says it is the very next morning, when Virgil stumbles from his room to find Roman making pancakes.  Patton is already practically breathing them in, apparently unbothered by the stranger in their kitchen.  “No strings attached.”  Roman adds, when Virgil continues to look confused.

“No strings?”  He repeats, frowning.  “How?”

“I’m going to make your life easier.”  Roman explains, rather proud of himself for that.  “I don’t need magic for that.”

“Does it even count as a favour then?”  Virgil asks, still frowning but taking a few steps into the kitchen.

“Probably.  No one’s ever tried.”  Roman admits with a shrug.  “It’ll take a while though, so you’re pretty stuck with me.”  He adds, like he’s not at all worried Virgil will recoil at the idea and decide his real favour is for Roman to go forever.

Virgil doesn’t do that.  Instead he just stands for a few more minutes, frown still on his face, and then he sits at the table.  

“Okay.”  He agrees.  “I need your help.”

Roman doesn’t even try to control his grin as he places a plate of pancakes in front of Virgil.

“So does this mean Roman’s my new dad now?”  Patton asks about two seconds later, making Virgil choke on his first bite of pancake.

He avoids the question, Roman notices with hopeful glee.

--

There are strings, Virgil learns later.  They're just of the brother-in-law-kind.

Two strings, to be specific.  They don’t tell Virgil their names, even after Roman does.  They’re simply the Duke and Deceit. Which makes zero sense because the first is King of his court and the second is still fae so he can’t lie?  

His pair make no sense to Virgil, and they're a bit insufferable but he puts up with them.  After all, he had a string of his own.  

Patton gave Roman his name immediately, much like Virgil had (he’s still kicking himself for that).  Unlike with Virgil, Roman was fully fae when he was given Patton’s name.  He gave it back just as quickly, protected and safe in Patton’s hands although it would take Patton years to understand that.

Watching the two always makes Virgil’s heart swell, makes him wonder why he was so nervous about letting the fae into his life in the first place.  Roman clearly adores Patton, so it’s only fair Virgil tolernate Duke and Deceit (except he doesn’t just tolerate them at all, he loves his brothers-in-law and he’s not fooling anyone).

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 23

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20, part 21, part 22

Here’s the chappie where you get a look beyond the Mediterranean fortress Harry calls home... ;)

Timing is sometimes too perfect to be the pure product of coincidence.

Everything is connected: the earth and the seas, the moon, and all the sky’s stars. 

Our bodies are made of these, fragments of their nature, tying us to this world. 

Aunt Lara used to tell me that we are a part of the cosmos, the cosmos pushing and pulling people into paths they’re supposed to be on. She’d smoke her cigarette on our porch with the full moon hanging high in the sky that she’d soon be flying through, and I’d nod, thinking I was so cool just for being around her. It was our time then, just the two of us, sometime after my parents had gone asleep and I’d sneak past their room to meet her outside. She never told my parents I was staying up late on a school night. She’d take another drag, extending one to me, knowing I wouldn’t take it. 

“I’ve seen seven year olds with these things,” she’d mutter, laughing to herself, and when she’d look out, I imagined she was envisioning the Roman Cafe she’d frequent beside the famed Colosseum. A hot sun, and balmy breeze, warm like the foreign friends she’d meet, or the lukewarm seas lapping around her ankles. “So much warmer and clearer than anything you’ve ever felt here. The most miraculous shades of blue...” She’d smoke, she’d smile. I’d admire.

It was a full moon that night. 

Just like it was tonight. 

There are some things that happen so precisely, I think there must not be any other way these things could have happened, no other explanation, other than Aunt Lisa’s: the universe and its timing are inextricably linked to create our destiny. 

 Our choices change our future, sure. But there’s something beyond that, in the fickle way our choices play out ironically, that makes me think some things are fated. God, the cosmos, whatever you believed in - they had bigger plans for everyone. 

 They certainly had bigger plans for me other than a depressing Netflix binge in my dorm room after the game. 

 Yellow fluorescents flickered in the dismal parking garage. Lionel Styles was waiting by the elevators with Sven, looking oddly casual in normal streetwear. They grabbed Harry from me as soon as I’d parked, carrying him in. I followed, for a brief second questioning whether or not my services were needed. Maybe this was only family now. 

 But Lionel hastily beckoned me towards him. “You wanted a hands on experience right?”

 His words seemed crass in a moment like this, but I brushed it off as stress as I went with them in the elevator. Lionel punched in a code and it creaked to life, slower than normal. A table had already been cleared in one of the surgery rooms, a white plastic sheet like that of a serial killer lain across. Gauze, ice water, rags, forceps, and needles were atop a metal tray. It was everything I expected of a surgical room - stark, sterile, and cold without any frivolous decor. No paintings. I assumed there was never anyone awake enough in this room to enjoy them anyway. Sven lay a white medical pillow down, too thin to be comfortable, as Lionel lowered Harry. I cringed, feeling another wave of nausea wrack through me. His gauze, once pink, was now completely red and looked wet to the touch. 

 “He’s been bleeding this whole time,” I breathed. Albeit obvious, it was less to inform Lionel than it was to come to terms with it myself. 

 Lionel flicked one of the syringes, nodding solemnly. “He might need a blood transfusion.” 

 Blood transfusion. IV poles were behind the table, blood blags and clear IV fluid already ready. He was expecting this. 

 “Shouldn’t he be at a hospital?” 

 “Nothing we can’t do. He’s just a boy. Gets into scrapes every now and then.” 

 “This is more than a scrape.” 

 He ignored me, plunging the needle in, and less than a second later, Harry’s eyes fluttered. 

 “Adrenaline,” I whispered under my breath. I recognized the protocol. 

 Lionel looked at me, curiously. “You’ve done a good job. Did you stuff the wound?” 

 I shook my head. Harry was still lightly breathing thanks to the adrenaline. But he wasn’t anywhere near stabilized to warrant my work being commended.

 “It’ll be enough until my friend gets here,” he said.  

 I looked at him, skeptically.

 “The anesthesiologist,” he clarified. 

 And I blamed it on the shock for being so daft. Dr. Styles had been established in the medical field since he received his degree, it was no surprise if he had a “friend” for everything. 

 “Is Mary here?” I don’t know why I asked this question. I don’t know why I thought it was relevant. Perhaps because if my mom knew I was bleeding out on a table, she’d be right there. Right beside me. She would’ve been the one driving, bossing around all the doctors. 911 would have been called and she would’ve moved hell fire and water screaming like a banshee to get to me. “Does she know?” I questioned. 

 Lionel didn’t even look at me, carefully unwrapping the gauze. “She’s sleeping. I didn’t wake her.” 

 The separate lives of Mr. and Mrs. Styles spread further in my eyes, only their roof and rings joining them. 

 I unpacked new gauze, handing it to him. The butterfly bandaids hadn’t held, big shock, and blood trickled down in a steady current. How much blood could he have left? Lionel didn’t have time to be surprised, but the stoic doctor looked a shade whiter when he grabbed the gauze. The wound was exposed and he hesitated, simply applying pressure. His hands bloodied by the second. 

 For as renowned as he was, in facing his own son, he suddenly seemed paralyzed. I wanted to shake him. 

 Sven re-entered, slightly out of breath. I’d never noticed him leaving. “They’re here, sir. But they can’t get in-” 

 A spark was lit. Something familiar for him to grasp onto. “Elevator’s been jamming,” he cursed.  

 I helped apply pressure, and Dr. Styles looked at me, unsettled.

 “I’ll stay here. You can let them in,” I nodded, even though there hadn’t been a question. 

 “It’s deep. So you have to physically stuff the wound with gauze. Have you ever dealt with a stab wound?” 

 My eyes narrowed. He already knew what kind of injury it was.

 Then, mustering all the poise and retort of the First Lady, “With all due respect sir, I can do this.” 

 “I’ve seen grown men faint at the sight of needles let alone handling an open wound.” 

 “Thank God I’m a woman then.” I don’t know what possessed me, but my steely gaze must’ve been convincing. Lionel ran through the door, not even bothering to shut it. 

 Perhaps it was all the hours of being kept to dull paperwork and the maddening helplessness I’d felt for too long now. 

 But I couldn’t sit around anymore. 

 I needed to do something. 

 Sven watched me as I put on gloves and bunched up the gauze, holding my breath as I pushed it past the skin’s opening, ignoring his little gasps telling me this was hurting him, and ignoring the hot sensation around my hands. Tissue. That hot sensation was his tissue. I was inside Harry. I was touching… suddenly the anatomy I’d memorized in textbooks was a little too detailed. These gloves were too thin. I kept going and Sven jumped in to help elevate Harry so I could wrap the gauze around his entire abdomen, stuffing his wound until it was full. 

 We didn’t speak.

 I sat on the only steel stool in silence. I may not want to sit around, but right now the floor could move beneath me at any moment. Sven was in the corner of the room, gaze locked to the clock. The minutes seemed to tick by slower than anything I’d ever felt. I could feel time, just like in the elevator. And maybe it was because his time was running out. He could die. Harry could very well die. If I’d chosen to go with Renny, if I’d stayed a moment longer, if I’d left a moment sooner, I would’ve passed the locker room without hearing him, without seeing him at all. What would the alternative have been? An image of Harry bleeding out, cold on the floor made me nauseous.

 And still the clock ticked. 

 I could have screamed by the time they burst through the doors in a flury. Two men I’d never seen before entered in slacks and untucked button-downs. This hadn’t been an expected call. This wasn’t official. They ignored Sven and I, instantly getting to work, which was fine by me as long as I could stay. They inserted needles and attached wires and masks until I wasn’t sure I could untangle him if I tried. The smallest mewling noises came from him, but he didn’t stir. I don’t think he had it in him to move anymore. Only able to give one desperate lolled roll of his head. 

 One of the men, the anesthesiologist, fiddled with a machine. The whoosh of releasing gas sounded when Harry took his first breaths. A slow, but steady, heart rate appeared on the monitor.  

 Lionel looked at it briefly. 

 The Doctor and his helpers worked for what seemed like hours. Maybe it was. For how long time felt and despite how intently I’d been staring at the clock, I couldn’t recall when we’d arrived. I cringed as they undid my handiwork, only to excavate deeper into the wound. I know this might be my future when I pursued medical school, but on more than one occasion I had to look away. 

 Sven had left the room entirely, standing guard just beyond the door. At least Sven escaped the smell of metal and flesh. 

 They stapled Harry together like meat, a butchered boy on the operating table, like Hasbro Operation except no one was laughing when the forceps dug in, and nobody won. 

 Every time I cringed, I reminded myself: Harry was asleep. He couldn’t feel any of this. 

 He looked like a corpse under the unforgiving white light, but the heartbeat reminded me he was alive. 

 When Lionel Styles finally turned away, tossing his gloves in the bin, he looked whiter than the sheet beneath Harry. 

 It was the longest night I’d ever had. 

 But for him, to excavate into his son the way he just had, I imagined it was longer.  

------

 “I didn’t have to come,” Matt said, for the first time irritance lacing his voice. Golden Boy stood at my doorway, recoiled, after I’d practically growled upon seeing him. 

 “I’m sorry,” I said. “It was a long night.” 

 And annoying after the e-mail notification I’d received about the DG Pretty Please. Time was running out, and it was the last thing I’d had on my mind recently.  

 “Why was it so long?” 

 I twirled my hair around itself in a messy bun, letting it hold itself up. I just shrugged while Matt’s concern mounted. 

 Lionel had asked me not to speak of it. “We’ll let you know when you can see him,” he’d said. As far as anyone else was concerned, I hadn’t been there that night. There was a reason he didn’t want Harry going to a hospital. Less questioning, less spotlight, less of an impact on their image… it still unnerved me. Such a horrific injury, and yet… it was almost expected, brushed under the rug. Had Harry really been this much of a troublemaker growing up that a stab wound was equivalent to a scrape for Dr. Styles? 

 Matt set the steaming Del Taco bag on the floor. “Y/N, seriously, what’s up? You couldn’t even stay the weekend on campus? She told me you’ve been gone for weeks.” He sat down at the foot of my bed when he was sure I wasn’t going to turn into a snarling monster. Which, to be fair, must have been a hard conclusion to come to. “And it’s true, I haven’t seen you around at all. You just… disappeared.” 

 “Okay, it was ONE week,” I clarified. “And we don’t see much of each other anymore anyways so don’t act like you’re so butt hurt that I decided to come home again.” 

 I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them. They were the ones we hadn’t said. The ones we knew were true. But a mood had crept through me last night turning me sour against the world. And now each word I spoke was infected with its poison. 

 His brows scrunched, eyes flashing with indignation, not sure how to handle me, of all people, lashing out abuse.

 “Yeah, because you quit your PT job.” 

 “I got a new one!” 

 “And that’s fine! Why are you so… defensive right now??” he laughed briefly at the absurdity. “I just don’t know why you’re trying to blame this on me. Where is this coming from?” 

 I remained silent. I didn’t know why I was blaming him so harshly for our friendship reaching a downward slope. I knew we had different circles of friends, and as gross of a cliche as it was, he was with the athletes and I was with… Renny. Though now I was starting to hang out with Lynn more, too. A part of me envied him for having such an instant community with his team. Isn’t that why people joined sororities? For community? I’d seriously flunked that one, though a little voice told me I just wasn’t trying hard enough.  

 He looked to my collaged wall, expecting to see our photo strip. But it wasn’t there. He stood up, finding it atop my mom’s arts and crafts bin. 

 “Haven’t been here in a while,” he said, softly. 

 I watched him, stood in my room like all those high school nights of old, seeming taller than before. Like in the months we’d lost touch he’d somehow gotten too big for this room, like he’d somehow outgrown me. 

 “It fell down,” I lied, because Harry had taken it off. 

 They say your high school friends won’t stay with you forever, that as you grow older, the number of friends you stay in touch with start dwindling until it’s down to one or two. I stopped speaking to most of mine after the first year of community college. People move on. People change. I changed too, even though I stayed behind. But there was always Matt. Of all people, I didn’t think it would be him and I standing apart and feeling farther, still. When these relationships change, the transition feels gradual. It’s like, in some unspoken unseen moment, your lives sync up, and you’re both busy at the same intervals. And then you make plans to see each other, but both of you don’t reach out the day you’re supposed to meet up. Neither of you follow through. Because it’s easier. It’s natural. An unspoken agreement. 

 “We’ve both been busy,” I said. 

 “The last time I saw you, you had a massive mark on your neck.” 

 “You can say hickey, Matt.” 

 His eyes fluttered, and he looked away. If I wasn’t devoid of emotion then, I’d think it funny how he got flustered just thinking or talking about anything sexual with me.

 “You’re pretty close with Harry then?” he asked, ears slightly reddened. 

 “What makes you say that?” 

 “An educated guess.” A charming smile lit his face, almost shy, the hostility in the air dulling for a moment. “I’ve seen you with him before, and you were wearing his jersey at the game… I didn’t really believe it though.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 “C’mon. Harry Styles.” 

 “And?” 

 He raised his hands as if the answer was so obvious it was floating in the air. They dropped. “He’s not really your scene, is he? I don’t mean that in a bad way, he’s not really my scene either.” 

 “So?” 

 “So, nothing. I was just trying to find something to talk about.” He was getting more irritated now, his thumb digging in between his fingers. “Really, I don’t even care to talk about him, let’s talk about you. Please. Have you drawn anything recently? Why’ve you been feeling off?” 

 I snorted. “Please, I haven’t drawn anything since high school. There’s nothing new.” 

 He crossed his arms, testing me. “I don’t buy it.” 

 He was smart not to. 

 “You know… It took a lot for my dad to ask me to stay behind instead of going off to Princeton,” he said. Every molecule seemed to still around him. “He can barely speak now. The guy who wouldn’t ask you to fetch the boogie board even if you were the one who’d let the waves take it in the first place...” his voice trailed off, a silent sadness swirling in blue eyes. 

 I remembered Patrick Price taking us to the beach and pushing us beneath the big waves, teaching us how to balance on those harmless foam boards we’d pick up at Rite-Aid. Just three years ago at high school graduation, Patrick was running across the grass playing football with Matt and Dad at the BBQ while Mom and Summer dished out the pasta salad and watermelon. He was diagnosed two years ago, and now instead of serving pasta salad, Summer serves him, watching him closely on his wheelchair. ALS was a nasty disease and it acted fast. 

 “I can’t help you if you don’t want to be helped,” he finished. 

 I wanted to say that I was sorry. I wanted to say that it wasn’t him, that it was me. But something else had already consumed me, not letting in the light, finding the darkest parts of me and unfurling them until some spilled past my lips. “You didn’t have to drive all the way down here just to see me.” 

 “I didn’t,” he said, and even though he hid his hurt well, I could still see it. He stood from the bed, making up his mind that there wasn’t any use being with someone who pushed away anything that ventured near. “I’m helping my dad move offices. The rent is too high now for landscapers.” 

 “They’re leaving? But you guys have been in the same spot for years.” 

 Matt gave a shrug, taking his turn at the silent treatment.

 “I didn’t know,” I said, lamely. 

 The chasm between us grew bigger, and I shrunk even smaller, letting the silence and guilt consume me.

 “But you wouldn’t want to talk to me about that either, right?”  

 I swallowed, hard. I deserved that. 

 And I was too ashamed to stop him from leaving. 

 Less than an hour later, I was cursing him again. The smell of Del Taco drove my mother away from the living room. Messy wrappers lay scattered around me when the door opened. I may have been too ashamed and prideful to apologize to Matt, but my growling stomach was stronger than both. 

 She saw me in the same position Matt had left me, and I avoided her gaze, checked my phone. No updates. 

 The room seemed cold. 

 “You look like you’re having the same day I’m having.” She came in with a basket of clean clothes, setting it on the floor. 

 “Mom, I told you I’d do that.” 

 “No, you needed rest.” There was a flash of pity, but it was lying beneath a thick shell of annoyance. She huffed, sitting on my bed, just like Matt hours before. 

 She snuggled closer. I faced her on my side, hands pressed against my cheek. She mirrored me. 

 I waited for her to say something, but in the silence her eyes grew wide, shaking her head. The mysterious reason for her mood like a gorged balloon floating towards a fan.

 “What?” I asked.

 “I think your Dad has feelings for somebody else.” 

 My brows scrunched. “What?” 

 “I don’t have any proof. But we were on a date night last night and…” -she let out a cruel laugh that made me want to hold her- “He was texting her.” 

 “Who?” 

 “A waitress.” 

 “A waitress?” 

 “Nicole the waitress.”

 “How do you know it was her?” 

 “He denied it. But I looked at his phone when he went to the bathroom. She’s been a little… friendly with Dad.”

 “Nicole?? Mom, she’s like nearly forty.” A brief memory of a friendly blonde working in the restaurant trickled up and left a sour taste on my tongue. 

 “Still fifteen years younger than me.” 

 My nose shriveled up, the thought of Father being romantic with my own mom made me cringe, but the thought of Father being romantic with somebody else? It didn’t seem… conceivable. My parents weren’t like the Styless. They kept us together. They loved each other. 

 “Have I met her? I’ll punch her next time I see her,” I said, the words still not connecting with my brain. With the facts laid out before me.

 Mom snorted. “Not before I do.” She plucked at a hangnail, a habit I’d gotten from her, and I could practically see the insecurities already rolling around in her mind.

 “You’re gorgeous, Mom.”

 She gave me a look. “I’ve been stress-eating chocolates. I need to watch myself.” 

 “Mom.” I frowned, seeing worry behind her humor. “He needs to watch himself.”  

 She sighed, turning to the ceiling. “I don’t know. I just have this… feeling.”  

 “Women’s intuition?” 

 “Yeah,” she breathed, and I knew if Mother was telling me this from her vault of secrets, it must have been significant. She wasn’t one to listen to Lara’s spirituality, but intuition was something she would never refute. Momma turned back, rattling her thoughts together. “Anyway. I’ll just be... shocked. If it’s true. I mean...a waitress? Really?” Silence suspended. The afternoon sun warmed the room a little more than usual, exposing the paled filmy stars on my ceiling to be illuminescent frauds. “Or maybe I’m not,” she said, quieter. Before I could bat my eyes, she changed the subject. “Why’d you come back last night?” 

 But I could still see the steam rolling off her shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it more?” I offered. The Del Taco turned queasy in my stomach, and as much as I loved her, I really hoped she said no. 

 She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything.” She squeezed my hand, letting me know she meant her apology. She did a once-over at my stale big t-shirt. “Did something happen to make you want to come home?” Her fingers ran along the tops of my knuckles. “Or do you just love me.” Her smile was less than half-hearted.

 “I was going to be alone at the dorm again. Renny was going to a party and I didn’t want to go with her…” 

 “I hate how she leaves you alone. Maybe we should get you a puppy for company?” 

 I gave her a look and she caved. “No, you’re right. Probably wouldn’t fit in there. You couldn’t take care of a puppy now anyways. Too needy. So, did he like the house?” 

 Her mind seemed scattered in a million directions. Mine struggled to keep up. 

 “Mom, seriously what are you talking about?” 

 “Oh, I didn’t know if he said anything about it afterwards or-” 

 “Mom, who?”

 “Harry, honey.” 

 She was clueless of what her words did to me. My heart lurched just hearing his name, and the worry from last night washed over my exhausted frame like a crab on the shore, strong tides like a persistent weight, threatening to carry me away again. 

 “I’m sure he liked it,” I said. 

 “It’s an older home...he’s probably used to columns of marble.” Her embarrassed smile for even asking the question made my heart split further. 

 “Actually, he did say something! I remember now, he told me it was cute. Homey. He thinks the marble stuff is too cold anyways, he’s excited to come back,” I reassured her. The last bit was probably a stretch but it worked. Embarrassment fell away and her smile glowed.

 Satisfied that she was happy, I turned to face my ceiling, closing my eyes. The problems with her and Father swum in the back of  my mind, but I was too tired to take on anything else. She was an adult. She could make her own decisions. The information settled in a box in my brain, waiting for a moment when I could fully process it and I’d unlock it all again. I could feel the inklings of damage it would do to me if I truly unpacked it - anxiety, anger, confusion, fear, pity. 

 Family was a constant.  

 I couldn’t think about that changing, too. Not when I could barely keep my eyes open. 

 “You’re so sad, angel. What’s going on in your mind, hm?” 

 I shook my head, shifting to look at the ceiling. I didn’t need to feel guilty for not confiding in her. I needed to not feel anything. 

 Her presence was like a lighthouse, radiating heat, beckoning me to come back. All without her saying a word. 

 She looked as if she were going to say something else, but her hand fell back into her lap. “Okay,” she said. 

 She didn’t even try. 

 Maybe she knew the fog was too thick for me to see her light. 

 Then, through the fog, a vibration shook me to the core. 

-----

 “Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” Sven stepped aside, the grand foyer to the Styles estate stretching out before me. Any other time, it would be enchanting, captivating. Now, it looked as treacherous as a hospital hall. I wasn’t sure what rendition of Harry was waiting for me on the other side of the staircase. 

 My feet carried me up a familiar path, my heart pounding at the unknown.

 Irrationally, I had to remind myself that Harry was alive. I wasn’t going to find him, not like I’d found my Grandpa in his room.   

 Regardless… 

 “Are there people watching him? Is he alone?” 

 “He’s stabilized. There’s no need for nurses to keep watch.” Sven held dirty linens as he stayed in my shadow up the stairs. 

 I nodded, the assurances not really meaning anything, not until I could put an image in my mind as to what he looked like. Right now, all I could conjecture was a gray blur for a head sticking out above the sheets. How bruised would he be? How much stained blood would there be? I didn’t know what to fill in the gray with, so my mind envisioned the grim Harry I’d last seen, the Harry that, if it weren’t for the monitor, I wouldn’t have known still had a beating heart. 

Each step carried me closer with a horrifying thought. My brain playing connect the dots as I walked. 

 Pale. 

A clay boy. 

A stitched up doll. 

And everyone knew dolls didn’t breathe.

 I didn’t realize I was alone until I turned around. Of course Sven wouldn’t have followed me, but for some reason I wanted him to be here. 

 Maybe it’s because he was with me when I’d seen Harry last. 

 “Y/N.” The familiar voice was weaker, but the grim tone was still so painfully bare. Of course he’d sensed me. 

 When I stepped out from behind the door, I didn’t find a dilapidated monster. Harry lay resting. 

 “Hey.” I snuck in, light as a swallow’s feather in the morning breeze, floating down beside him and resting my head atop crossed arms. The sight of him shook me. “Raggedy Harry,” I barely whispered, a horrible punch-to-the-gut feeling ballooning in my chest. 

 Half of his face swelled more than the other, his bottom lip completely bruised and jutted out, with a fairly deep gash that had started to scab. I fought the urge to trace over it.

 “Looks worse than it is,” he said, watching my eyes carefully. Besides the pink-red swelling, his face appeared flushed. And despite his injuries, he was still miraculously beautiful. 

 I didn’t even blush from staring. Loose earthy curls had not been affected by time spent smooshed against the pillows. If anything, it’d pushed them forward, the floppier fringe defying gravity just there above his forehead. People could go to a stylist and ask for effortless mussy curls and not have it turn out as good as his - and this just with his genetics and days spent sleeping. 

 If I were him, I’d look like a grease monkey.

 “Well, I can’t see the worst bits I’m sure.” 

 His chest was wrapped in gauze, this time not bloody to the touch. It was thick, white, and secure, and suddenly the tears that had yet to spill started pricking my eyes. I didn’t know just how badly I needed to hear the words before he said them. 

 “Y/N, I’m fine. I promise.” 

 The heaviest weight lifted from my shoulders, but my body slumped deeper into his mattress from an instantaneous realization. I’d needed Harry to be okay. I needed him here, even if I couldn’t explain why. 

 My hand reached out, brushing the tops of his hand.

 “It would’ve been a dick move if you died,” I managed to breathe. I let out a sorry excuse for laughter, nervously sniffling. 

 His eyes seemed heavy, tired. The circles beneath them a cry for help from his beaten body.

 “You can sleep if you want. I just wanted to check in on you.” 

 “I’m not sleeping when you’re here. S’all I’ve been doing,” he croaked. A flood of relief washed over me. Being apart from him was the last thing I wanted right now. The anxieties that’d been plaguing me the past 24 hours were muted to a dull simmer, drowned out by the highs of my body being close to his. Noticing his body...

 A steady drip came from the IV hooked to his arm. Five pill bottles were on his nightstand, within arms reach. He noticed my staring.

 “To stay hydrated.” Then, under his breath, “And numb.”  

 “I know,” I barked a laugh that instantly felt out of place. “I want to go into medicine, remember?”

 His voice seemed lower when he rumbled, “S’right. You’re a smart girl.” 

 The tenderness in his voice sent an unexpected warmth straight to my chest. “You know that’s also a curse,” I noted. “I think too much.” 

 “I know,” he said, but he didn’t laugh like I had. It sounded like an apology. I almost jolted when his hand reached out to touch mine, not expecting him to be warm.

 “You almost died,” I said, taking a breath. “I was there when you almost died.” 

 “I never wanted you to be there-” Before I could take offense, he weakly squeezed my hand. “I want to protect you, Y/N. I never wanted you this involved with me.” 

 “Well we’ve done a shit job at staying uninvolved. You can barely protect yourself. You can’t protect yourself.” 

 “That isn’t going to happen again.” 

 “The fact that it happened! Harry, I don’t think you understand how scared I was. How scared I am. I could be next, I don’t know what they want...” 

 A horrifying puzzle piece clicked into place. My nightmare of being stabbed could become a very real reality. It wasn’t until I saw Harry wincing that I realized his breath had quickened. 

 “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out. We don’t need to talk right now.” 

 The sting of I never wanted you this involved with me pulled me to the door, but his hand pulled me back.

 “No. Fuck no.” But his grip softened again, his abdomen screaming at the effort to pull me back to him. When he spoke again his voice was a murmur, quiet-quiet, so gentle I could’ve imagined it. “Stay. Please. Seeing you here is the happiest I’ve been all week.” 

 My heart could’ve flown out of my chest, but for the buzzing electrical phenomena his words ignited in me, I was frozen by his sober admittance of want. It seemed all we ever did was dance around each other, literally. As if we were in an old 1700s ballroom, and everyone was dispersing into pairs. We spy each other from across the room and tiptoe around, refusing to seek other partners, yet refusing to commit to a dance. 

 “Is that sad?” His sincerity broke my reverie. 

 I leant closer, and his eyes fluttered shut in expectation… But my lips pressed soft kisses to closed lids. “I’ll stay,” I promised, nose to nose. Because my answer to his question would be yes. Something told me the mess of his body finally matched the inside of his heart. 

 Rather than tilt his head up to kiss me, he tried scooting over in the bed. It was painful to watch. I stopped him. There was plenty of room for me to lay beside him. So I did, scared to touch him.

 “I’m not going to break,” he huffed. Tough and untouchable, I imagine being tip-toed around was the exact opposite of what he was used to. 

 “You didn’t see yourself that night.” Bloodied gauze and feeling his hot insides against my hands was enough to make my own blood curdle. It was enough to make me question if the Harry in front of me was simply a mirage. He was okay now, I reminded myself. But after I’d seen him bleeding out in the seat next to me, I wasn’t sure I believed him to be unbreakable anymore.

 “You’re right, I’m… sorry,” he looked away, as if not being able to meet his reflection in my eyes. As much as I could hear regret, I knew he felt it even more. 

 My hand reached out, fingertips gently touching his raised cheek. “You were the one who felt it.” 

 He barely leant against my touch, gaze boldly probing my tired eyes, puffy from crying. The longer he stared the guiltier he became. 

 “Maybe we both did,” he said. The statement seemed to confuse him, brows stitching together. “No one’s ever been there for me like you. And-” he smiled as wide as he could with the swelling- “honestly it scares the living shit out of me. I know you didn’t have much of a choice to help-” 

 I surprised myself again, the definitive statement flying out of my mouth faster than I could comprehend. “I’d do it again.”  

 But the words seemed to hurt him more. His head lulled to the side, his prominent adam’s apple moving as he swallowed, deep in thought. “You’re too good for me,” he surmised. Before I could  argue, he took my hand, pressing the back of it to bruised lips. He was acting so soft, so vulnerable. Was it the drugs? Was it an act? But if it was, how could eyes lie like that?

 He hummed as if we were laying on the beach on the first hot day of summer, despite all the pain he must be in. The pros and cons list I’d written and stashed in my purse was sending out a throbbing heartbeat in my body, burning a hole where my purse lay at the end of the bed. No matter if the list were true, it couldn’t encapsulate the complicated person that he was. It wasn’t a fair portrait to paint. And putting me on a pedestal wasn’t either. “That’s not true,” I mumbled, far too late. 

 “It is,” he said. No room for argument.

 “Did they give you some love drugs in this medicine bag of yours?”

 His brows quirked at love, but he didn’t seem mocking when he said, “Maybe.” Emerald eyes were a mix of admiration, torment, and want as they drank me in, and I was sure if I let him stare into my soul a moment longer, he’d discover I wasn’t perfect at all.

 I looked out towards his panoramic balcony window. Little flickers of light told of a city at the bottom of the hill, the dark ocean like a blanket for the rest of the world just out of reach. I wondered how long it’d been since the sun had set. Like any night with Harry, the rest of the world slipped away. 

 I stole a glance back at him, the beautifully broken boy resting his eyes. As if sensing me, he stirred, mumbling something incoherent. 

 “Too far,” he repeated, opening up his arms.

 “I’m not laying on you Harry. Your stitches could burst.”

 He growled. “I don’t care.” 

 And I didn’t doubt it. I came as close as I dared, thankful his shoulder wasn’t bruised as I lay my head in the crook of his neck, hands blindly combing through curls.

 I could feel him relax into me, hear the boyish smirk across his face. “My mum used to do that,” he whispered. “Not this mum, my other…” his voice stuttered out. “My biological.” 

 It grew quiet in the room. An opening to the door of his past just barely letting in light. 

 “Do you miss her?” 

 “Can’t miss what you don’t remember,” he dismissed. And just like that, the door to his past was slammed shut. It was exactly what he said about the Styles’s first child Jane. But this time it sounded rehearsed, mechanical, a river of emotion carefully masked. But not to me. 

 My hands stilled, not sure if I should continue. But he leant into me again, and I continued my gentle work, as if undoing his tresses could untangle messy thoughts. “Thank you,” he sighed.

 In some unspoken moment, he turned his head down, his tanned beaten face leant closer to mine. And with the intimate intensity only he possessed, he saw me. Like I was the only woman in the world. The oxygen seemed pulled from the room as time suspended. He leant lower until our foreheads brushed, his brows stitching together when I instinctually drew my leg across him, careful not to hitch it up too close to his wound. Our breathing deepened, the anticipation building as my hand drew across his face, my fingers settling behind his ear. He huffed, irritated at the tangling of the IV chord when he wrapped his arm around my side. 

 We stayed like this for a while, cradling the other. And just like I had done before, his pillow-soft lips ghosted over my cheek, then my nose, then my chin, until they hovered just over my lips. My eyes fluttered closed, the trail he left leading to one place…

 “Y/N,” he breathed. I opened my eyes. There wasn't any reluctance in his eyes, but something similarly cautious yet fervent, an unspoken sentence pushing against closed lips.  

 But the sound of glass shattering woke us both up. His body turned hunter, still as stone as he listened for what came next. A hysterical cry drove Harry to stand, miraculously faster than I thought possible, and it wasn’t until he limped halfway towards the door that I realized he ripped out his IV. The banshee scream turned into a chilling wail, freezing me to my core. 

 My mind went to the worst case scenario. I’d have to jump from the window somehow. The gang must have found us. They must be in the house-

 “It’s Mary,” he cursed, stopping my spiralling mind so quickly I was left dizzy. I don’t remember following him, but he stopped me at the door, hands locked around my shoulders.  

 “She has… fits, sometimes,” he explained.  

 “I don’t care.”

 “Y/N, you don’t have to see this, too,” he said, and the amount of shame that shadowed his face was like a gouge through my heart.

 I barely had time to say the words before another scream ripped through the empty house. “I’d do it again.” 

 With a somber nod, he rushed us out, practically sprinting to the living room where Mary Styles lay cradling her shell-shocked frame on the floor.  

 “You were gone. You left me,” she sobbed. Her hair was ripped from its usual loose curls and mascara ran down her face like the clear snot running from her nose. 

 “Oh my God,” a voice mumbled. 

 But I realized the voice was me. 

 The glass mirror at the bar had shattered. Shards of glass lay scattered all over the floor. Harry trudged through it, barefoot, bits of red mixing on the marble floors. 

 “No one was here, no one saw.” Her eyes were crazed as Harry bent over to pick her up and she pushed him away. “No! NO!!” 

 Fear spiked in my body. I’d never seen someone look so disconnected from the present reality. This was raw. Unpredictable. 

 But Harry seemed unphased. 

 “No one saw her, no one saved her,” she wailed. The weight of the words caused crippling sorrow. She stopped resisting, retreating into a shell of herself with choked cries, “Jane, Jane…” as Harry let out his own shout at the effort to lift her. 

 “Be careful, you’re hurt,” I called out, weakly. He didn’t bat an eye.  

 “Go through those doors, through the living wing, there’s a closet on your right. Grab the Valium and meet me in the guest room.” He avoided my gaze, looking instead to the direction I should be running to. 

 “Where in the closet?” 

 “Black box,” he ordered. Then, whispering to Mary, “It wasn’t your fault.” 

 But if she heard the words, they didn’t register, her face twisting, her own little trickle of blood running from the tips of her hands. 

 Her sobs barely quieted as they rounded the corner down the hall, abandoning me in the wreckage. 

 I was careful to step around the glass, heading to the massive hidden door in the wall I remembered Harry pointing out as the “living wing.” No one was around to confirm if memory served correct, but when I finally found the latch handle and tugged it open, tropical foliage surrounded me. It smelled humid, like stale water and… musky. Like when I had a hamster in fourth grade and forgot to change out its bedding. The light from the moon shone through their giant skylight, illuminating caged birds gently calling behind bars, enclosed in a sizey aviary. A small raised indoor pool made of rock looked like a concave fossil, with a shadow swimming amongst the mossy water. A miniature crocodile skirted to the furthest edge away from me and raised for air, two eyes looking skeptically in my direction. “Toto” was etched into the rock.

 There were more enclosed habitats, and at the head of the room overlooking it all, a giant wooden desk. But no closet. No closet. 

 Frick.

 I didn’t have time to ponder the eccentricity of the Styles’s owning a freaking zoo in their mansion. Nor did I have time to try and find a friggin light switch. Not at all. 

 I walked the length of the wing which seemed just as expansive as their living room. Ironic, I thought. Because this was literally a living room. 

 Then, beneath an arching tree canopy held in a planter box, two wicker handles protruded from the wall with a crack running between them. 

 Bingo.

 They opened easily, revealing a deep closet full of filing cabinets and old paintings. My phone light illuminated the top, where two black boxes seemed to have gone untouched for years. 

 My foot tapped impatiently, not sure which one to grab. I hadn’t heard any cries of bloody murder, but someone (not me, someone more athetlic) could’ve run a mile in the time I’d been gone. 

 I reached for the one closest to me. It was velvet, I realized, surprised even this family’s storage containers would have some element of luxury. I prayed to find pills. But instead, a wax sealed envelope holding a thick stack of documents glared back at me. I was just about to secure the lid again when the inklings of a photograph peaked through between the papers. The deep-red seal, already opened, was their insignia, a cursive “S” that looked like it’d come from the 18th century. 

 Since the seal was already broken… 

 My hands carefully leafed through the pages, and as if they knew, the animals grew louder, alarming themselves of an intruder. These documents seemed court-ordered. Various signatures adorned the pages using language I couldn’t understand. My heart dropped when I realized what I was holding. Adoption papers. Among them, a newspaper clipping about a boy separated from a violent family, and adopted by rich Americans. 

 Slowly, with each word I read, the oxygen felt snuffed from the room, another puzzle piece falling into place. One that changed the picture completely. 

 Wednesday morning at 5 am, neighbors of Sheffield awoke to gunshots at the King flat. After an attempted murder of his wife resulting in two gun shot wounds to Maisie King’s abdomen, Roger King committed suicide. Maisie is currently in recovery, and her two children have been placed in foster care while the court assesses their home situation. 

 More newspaper headings were clipped out, detailing the TV star rescuers of the boy, how lucky he was and how a wonderful, ritzy life in California awaited him. His entire fate had been changed - but there was no mention of Gemma. And in each photo, the child-like innocence in his eyes seemed vacant, replaced with a stoic sadness I’d only seen glimpses of when he was medicated. When he was too numb to remember to keep up the mask. 

 For how little the Styles’s divulged about Harry’s past to the American press, in England the story seemed to be the tragedy turned happy ending. At least, to some extent, the Styles’s were owed credit for something. They’d probably paid off the international papers.

 Little Harry… My stomach suddenly flipped, the room’s darkness transferring to something physically heavy in my chest. There was a photograph, too, and I carefully wedged a finger where the worn corner of it peaked out from the paperwork, keeping its place as I tugged it out. But when I saw it, I almost dropped everything. 

 The familiar curly-haired child I’d known from old Housewives episodes stared back at me in a worn blue polo from discolored film. Reddened tear-stained eyes looked at whoever was behind the camera.

 There were fresh bruises on baby-plump cheeks, cuts across rosy cherub lips.

 I looked away as soon as I saw it, but the image had already burned in my memory. A taste for the shadows of scars I could only imagine he carried ten-fold. His cuts had buried much deeper than flesh; the most dangerous wounds afflicted his soul and stole the air straight from my lungs.

 Oh, God.

 Oh, Harry. 

 How could anyone do such a thing? He was just an innocent boy, how could anyone- how often…?

 Bitter bile rose in the back of my throat. Dealing with bloody injuries was one thing, but seeing a beaten child had me sick for another reason entirely. This was something evil. 

 I put the photo back just as quickly. I’d gone too far this time. I’d really gone too far. 

 So it was almost an accident that the next photo fell out when I was putting back the first. 

 A man, strewn across a red puddle seeping from his head. A gun tossed at his side. The bile rose again and I refused to stare, but my mind caught the ends of wavy brown hair and a face that wasn’t really quite there. 

 I should’ve noticed when the animals quieted, I should’ve heard footsteps quicken in the other room, but it seemed far away, muted by the roaring secret I’d just uncovered, my mind fully fixated on the life no one could have known about Newport’s playboy hier.  

 If Harry hadn’t noticed the velvet top of the box not quite closed shut, he saw the guilt in my eyes when he stood square before the closet doors. 

 He looked irritated, almost grabbing the closed box from my fingers. 

 “It’s the wrong box!” I cried, horrified that even my voice reeked of pity. And something else. Fear. 

 He froze. A flame flashed beneath the dulled emerald, a spark of knowledge I was sure he’d like to forget. That he’d probably tried to forget, countless times. He shoved it away and grabbed the other box, stopping briefly as he walked past me again. He threw a cold glare. 

 “Don’t be scared of the snake,” he said. “But he doesn’t like strangers.” 

 As if on command, a giant boa constrictor slithered out from the overhanging tree, tightly coiled around a branch. 

 I felt my heart lurch in my throat. 

 “Harry!” I called, but he wasn’t here anymore. And if he was, he didn’t answer. He left, rushing to deal with one mess, when I feared I’d just created an even bigger one. Frozen to the spot as I figured out how to basically army-crawl out of the closet, I ran out past screaming birds and rustling waters, snake eyes burning two holes in the back of my neck as I chased Harry’s shadow. 

come talk about frat boy! or if you just wanna talk... i’m getting tired of talking to my dog lmao