#just the other day i had a talk with a friend over whether id recognize them on anon. is this from that friend??

[philautia-agape]

She veemo on my woomy til I splatoon

.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

What are your headcanons about Gordon?

I believe i've shared most of them before, but eh whatever I wanna talk about him more

-Physically mute, and was born with a vocal cord defect that makes him unable to vocalize whatsoever. because of this, when he first started working at Black Mesa, he actually had small cards to hand out to anyone that asked about it, basically stating his disability and to be patient with him.

-Fluent in ASL and also writes very quickly for people who don't understand it. This means his handwriting is a bit sloppy

-He wasn't taken that seriously when he started working at Black Mesa, and even after a couple years of working there he was still stuck with intern work. whether it's because others see him as too young or not fit for the job doesn't matter, but occasionally it feels like Gordon is being pushed to quit by some of his co-workers.

-That being said, he is still good friends with people like Kleiner (who was the only familiar face when he first started working there), and Barney, who he befriended later. He only really communicates with them, and keeps to himself in unfamiliar groups unless necessary.

-He is autistic and you can not tell me otherwise. He masks this a lot though, cause he feels like he would be taken even less seriously if he didn't.

-He shaved his goatee once during his job at Black Mesa and most of his co-workers didn't recognize him without his ID card. Barney told him to grow it out again cause he looked weird.

-I feel like during the Resonance Cascade, he took a bunch of supplies from dead soldiers and other things. Things like gun straps and holsters to hold all the weapons he got, and even put on sound-dampening headphones to prevent too much hearing damage. just put all of it on top of the HEV suit.

-He is not a social dude. he's the guy that holds a red solo cup in the corner of the room during a party and doesn't interact with anyone. He's very unassuming, just an every-day guy, being why it was surprising that HE of all people was going through the Resonance Cascade without dying.

-Dissociates in stressful situations, just so he doesn't break down in the middle of a life-or-death battle. He barely remembers certain chunks of the Black Mesa incident. He feels extremely guilty over his actions, and hates when he is seen as a hero for it all. He's not a hero, he was just a cornered animal who bit to survive.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

This is what it looked like when a school bus with teenagers happened to find itself in an area being bombed by Hezbollah, in northern Israel the other day. The post says that these rockets evaded Iron Dome, but since this is an open area, it's more likely that ID simply didn't try to shoot it down, because it's only meant to intercept rockets it calculates will hit urban and residential areas.

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A post shared by Jewish Breaking News (@jewishbreakingnews)

And THIS is what it looks like when a rocket that is supposed to be intercepted by Iron Dome gets past it (in the southern city of Ashkelon, pic from Oct 17):

And THIS is what it looks like when a rocket IS intercepted by Iron Dome, but there's always debris, and it has to fall somehwhere (pic from Ashkelon, from yesterday):

And today, a rocket barrage was launched at the northern city of Kiryat Shmona from Lebanon, a civilian building was hit directly, responsibility was claimed by Hamas. This is a reminder for ignorant people asking how can there be so many dead when Israel is fighting just one terrorist organization? Israel is fighting more than one, on more than one front.

The family of a Hamas senior has been smuggled out of Gaza to Egypt. This is not the first time we find out that people affiliated with Hamas get to leave Gaza. ANYONE putting pressure on Israel to surrender to an antisemitic, genocidal terrorist organization, needs to explain why is that better than putting pressure on Hamas to surrender and release all the hostages immediately, or on Egypt (or Qatar) to allow in Gaza civilians, and not just the people with connections to a terrorist organization.

I've been listening to a lot of interviews about the innovation that Israel has had to employ, in tackling the urban war challenges that Hamas has presented it with in Gaza, the likes of which I'm not familiar with in modern warfare, and in emergency medicine. As I was listening yesterday to the story of the recovery of a soldier, which seems no less than miraculous, it suddenly hit me, that no matter how much the world is publicly condemning us, the second they can, they will privately rush here to learn from us. Whether people will recognize it or not (and let's be real, the latter is more likely), a lot of lives will be saved all over the world, thanks to the experience and breakthroughs Israel is currently accumulating in these tragic times.

This is Aviad Halevi.

On Oct 7, he was at the Nova music festival, with two of his friends. Aviad had a chance to flee Hamas' carnage, but he chose to stay with a wounded friend instead. Aviad was corresponding with his family, and his dad decided to grab a weapon, and drive into this area, still very much controlled by the terrorists at that point, in order to save Aviad and his friends. In order to get to their location, the father had to shoot terrorists he encountered on his way, and he did make it, but only to find three bodies. He loaded them into the back of his truck, which might have possibly saved them from becoming 3 more of the corpses held hostage by Hamas.

The next vid features Sabine Taasa, who lost on Oct 7 her husband and their 17 years old son, Or. There's another vid where she talks about what her own family went through, how she found two of her sons bleeding, the youngest without his eye, and how Koren told her that the terrorists killed Gil, his dad, asking why didn't they kill him as well. I might post it separately later. In this video, she talks about the hand drawn map found on one of the terrorists killed by Gil before he was murdered himself. I heard other survivors of Hamas' massacre mention these maps, which instructed the terrorists on who lived where, and on who to target first. The survivors said these maps could be in the hands of Gazan terrorists only thanks to Palestinians from Gaza who used to work in Israel, and many talked about their deep sense of betrayal.

May all of the murdered's memories be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[the-arilouverse]

you.

i have been pulled in by sword and his weird green son. tell me more ab them would ya :3

btw i jst wanna let you know- if i could ever hold shiv irl, id put him in a sock

Like this vv

^^ I'm glad you like them! I can't take all the credit because Sword and the rest of Shiv's family members are all my friend/Co-Author Kurumi's OCs. That being said, let's dive into this weird green family! Shiv's parents are a Cacturne named Eroeh and an Aegislash named Sword. The two of them met deep in the desert, in a place known as the Sea of Sand.

Sword was originally part of a crew of ghost types sailing on a previously-sunken ship. They attacked Eroeh, but he single-handedly defeated them all and was able to escape.

During that fight, Sword saw something in Eroeh. Maybe it was like-minded bloodlust, or maybe he just.. had a feeling about the guy. Either way, Sword followed him out of the Sea of Sand, intent to join him wherever he was going next.

It was rough at first, to say the least. Eroeh is mute and had been alone chasing bandits for years. He didn't want Sword's company, but punching only works so well on a pokemon made of solid metal.

What ultimately won Eroeh over was that Sword could fight and fight well- And insisted on teaching him how to do the same. Sword recognized that Eroeh was strong, but he was also unfocused and his defense was lacking. So, Sword taught Eroeh to wield him like a weapon, and use his shield to defend himself.

Together they were a force to be reckoned with, and they soon became infamous across the Pale Desert. Legends were being spread far and wide of the terrifying Spirit of Vengeance and his Ravenous Blade.

With the parents covered, let's talk about the kids! Some number of years after Eroeh and Sword clean up their act, (You can thank Snek for that, by the way. He's been a very good influence on them.) they find an "abandoned" egg in the remains of a bandit camp after they cleared it out the night before.

At first, they decide to make the long walk back to the nearest village and drop off the egg, where it would hopefully hatch and be placed in a good home. But.. the longer Eroeh carried the egg with him, the more he wondered if they should keep it. He'd spent most of his life without a family- having lost everyone he held dear when his home village was destroyed almost twenty years ago. This could've been his only chance to have a family again.

Sword was vehemently against keeping the egg. He and Eroeh were a couple of scoundrels- They didn't have what it takes to be parents, they didn't even have a home! The two argued back and forth about it while they traveled, until one day, in the middle of an argument, the egg started to crack.

Eroeh forgot about the argument entirely, choosing instead to focus on the egg. Sword kept his distance, still furious from their fighting.

The egg hatched into a little Cacnea. Eroeh was instantly overwhelmed with fondness for the little tyke, though Sword was less than amused. He knew in that moment that he lost out, and that they'd be keeping the baby whether he liked it or not.

Eroeh decided to name him Heome.

Sword would keep putting up a fuss over it, but he eventually came around to being a parent. For one, it made Eroeh extremely happy to be a father, and two, Heome was just really cute. Just the sweetest, cutest little baby.

They took Heome everywhere with them. When they needed to bring in bandits, they'd find someone to look after him for a little while. (Occasionally Heome would be babysat by none other than Snek. He loves kids, and by this point he was very good friends with Eroeh and Sword.)

When Heome got too big to carry around anymore, the little family found a home in a modest village called Little Oasis. Not long after they settled in there, Eroeh and Sword found themselves with another egg. One that would hatch into a Honedge that they named Shiv.

Heome and Shiv's childhood was fine. Eroeh and Sword tried their best to strike a balance between being vigilantes and being fathers.

Heome and Shiv would go stretches of time without seeing their dads, but it was alright, the rest of the village would take care of them. One pokemon in particular was quite fond of the boys. A Hisuian Decidueye named Artemis. He had a young son of his own, a Rowlet named Orion. The three boys would go on to be the closest of friends.

Heome grows up to have a very protective personality. He looks up to his fathers a lot, and wants to protect and help people like they do. He's also a softie, a sweetheart, and is just an all around friendly guy.

As a child, Shiv is very timid. Choosing to hide behind his brother or his dads whenever he can. He's not very brave, and he doesn't really want to be a fighter, even if he is a sword.

Shiv eventually grows out of his shyness, or at the very least by the time he evolves for the first time he's learned to hide it behind an attitude and humor. He learns to fight alongside Heome in the same way Eroeh and Sword fight together, although Heome and Shiv have a third teammate in the form of Orion. Unlike his dad, he's a regular Decidueye and isn't half bad as an archer.

-

I could probably go on about this cast of characters for hours- they're some of my absolute favorites, but I think I'll leave this here before the post gets too long. This is certainly the gist of 'em!

[kaidatheghostdragon]

What a way to be outed. I do have thoughts on this, though.

My knowledge of the watchtower is from the dcau, where it had two incarnations, a small satellite base that housed only the original jl founders and was more of a small clubhouse, and the larger expanded watchtower that required a large staff of civilian operators and engineers.

If its the former, then the group danny happened upon just got their vigilante ids outed, once danny has slept enough to realize it. If the latter, their id's might be intact for a few reasons:

First, the public likely knows that the watchtower exists, regardless of how classified it might or might not be, in the same vein that many classified military bases are known about. Even if the civilian contractors are under strict ndas, they still have families, friends, and spouses that know their work schedule and a general idea of their day to day work life.

I also recall reading a fic where danny and tucker are able to identify the location of the watchtower by graphing out the ephimerides of the non-classified satellites and putting a big x on the mysterious empty space, which gives a similar impression to me of hobbyists that keep track of military movements by watching flight trackers. In other words, yes, certain things are classified, but enough non classified info is available that an intelligent person can work out a general big-picture with a bit of work.

Second, many satellites are visible to the naked eye, and the watchtower would probably be one of the largest objects in orbit, if not THE largest. I think it'd be one of those things where everyone kinda just knows that if they see an extremely bright satellite whizzing by, its probably the watchtower. However, cloaking technology exists in the dcu, so being invisible isnt out of the question.

With that explained, Danny is a Space Nerd (tm). Id imagine in the dcu, Space Nerd hobbies include tracking the watchtower, even if its location is technically classified. Its publically known that the watchtower hires civilian contractors by simple virtue of the fact that said contractors do not live completely isolated lives and their families talk about them. Becoming a civilian contractor for the watchtower is considered a legitimate career pathway to reach space, and would be talked about and affectionately argued over in the Space Nerd community.

Danny's first assumption upon meeting a group of space-goers in a random cafe, who aren't publically recognized astronauts, would be that he stumbled upon a group of civilian watchtower employees.

Depending on how sleep-deprived he is, he might or might not remember that their jobs are technically classified and outing them might put them in danger from enemies of the justice league, but i doubt he'd pass up this opportunity regardless, which means whoever is in the group gets to be stressed out over the mad scramble to cover up a security hole that nobody ever concieved of before now.

Danny is probably given an nda (and various bribes to ensure he signs it) within hours - which means he cant cite his new friends on his homework.

Of course, now we get to the point where we have to decide if the jl investigating danny discovered his alter ego, or if they dont find anything and assume hes a civilian meta with an extremely niche ability. (Also, whether or not his parents should be on some sort of watchlist.)

DP x DC prompt idea

Danny’s space powers are coming in. Because those are something he has, apparently.

He just moved to a new city for college. According to Frostbite, setting out from one’s initial haunt/deathplace long-term, to train or learn, is an important developmental stage for ghosts who are strong enough to do so. Which means his core has now developed enough to be clearly identifiable as a space core.

And also to give him new space powers, of course. Can’t forget that.

Thing is, of all the challenges he’s facing trying to make good first impressions at college while going through New Powers Puberty Part 2: Electric Boogaloo, Danny really thought the newfound ability to see whether someone’s been to space would be pretty low on his list of concerns.

Like, how often is that even relevant in everyday life, right? Hopefully he’ll meet astronauts through his Aerospace Engineering program, but it’s not like it should affect his ability to act normal around people day-to-day, right?

So how, exactly, did he manage to pick a regular study spot in a café also frequented by a group of random people who somehow each have more hours in space than literal crew members of the ISS?

And, more urgently, how long can his sleep-deprived brain resist asking them if they have any insights that will help with his homework?

[anzuhan]

(very) long rant related to me drawing for enstars below cut (not positive)

as much as i wouldnt want to speak ab it, enstars (in general. the game, not the fandom at all, i love all of you) is making me severely depressed. its fun to talk about it with people and discuss it and whatever but if i am to stay by myself and randomly think of it, or if i have a week off, time by myself, empty days with nothing to do i get locked inside and get sad cause of it. im sorry cause i know it sounds very silly for my favorite games to feature extremely heavy topics and dark contents (regarding the megaten series), and yet a stupid idol game makes me downright depressed with no will to think about anything anymore, it is how it is. im kind of in a slump now because drawing enstars was the first time in my whole life, as ive been struggling for a long time, that i got major popularity over my art. so even though it makes me feel as is, id cope with my real life and try to postpone thinking about this, and just keep on drawing it because im happy to finally have my art recognized after countless and countless of useless attempts. now that i tried placing my attention towards other things, like twst and the new pokemon game, ive been feeling exceedinly happier, despite having had a lot of time off these weeks with nothing to do.. though getting back to drawing enstars reminds me once again of my intrusive thoughts. i do not wish to have to keep on drawing enstars because for one, i do enjoy drawing women way more as ive stated several times, and with how its making me feel like you could all understand why its a slump and a chore for me, in a way, to keep drawing for this fandom. another thing is i also dont wish to lose the friends and mutuals i made by drawing for this fandom, i know many tend to unfollow once an artist no longer draws for one specific fandom anymore, its understandable, but i feel like i would sincerely miss a lot of people that ive had around me so far, anons, people ive only spoken with thru asks or even friends i made due to this. (though im aware i wouldnt -hopefully- lose people ive bonded with over this)

its really hard for me to decide whether to keep on drawing for this or not, if i can overcome my thoughts one day or not, and im sorry if i wont be able to fulfill all the requests all of you have made, and if you would unfollow, thanks for the support up until now 💖

* i will not be deleting any of my old works from anywhere, they will all still be here for all of you to view, as for im even extremely happy with a lot of pieces ive made for this fandom, so dont worry about that

[nat-20s]

for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead  of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even  during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

[beomeli]

Rainy days - C.BG

Warning: none

Genre: angst, fake dating, unrequited love

Non-idol!Beomgyu x fem!Reader (x Non-idol!Taehyun)

Click here for Part 2!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Why him? Why did you fall for him out of everyone. You didn't understand, you couldn't understand.

“What’s your name?” You looked up at him, eyes meeting his. His eyes showed kindness, as he looked down at you with a smile.

You looked down at his hand that reached out to you, noticing him opting you to shake it. Once again you looked up at him, this time with a smile, placing your hand in his and giving it a firm shake.

“My name is Y/N” he tilted his head at that, letting go of your hand. But the smile was still evident. “And your name?” You asked him,

“My name is Beomgyu, nice to meet you.” He softened his expression even more.

Beomgyu was the first person to be called your friend. He was interested in getting to know the new student, hence starting a friendship. You were happy that he asked for your name, happy that you could befriend such a sweet person. And Beomgyu was happy too, you really did make a great friendship. He was always sweet, funny and you found comfort in his charming personality. He never failed to make you laugh, neither did he fail to make you blush. You had tried neglecting the growing feeling in your stomach, that whenever he touched you, got close enough or said something remotely romantic, your heart started to flutter. But day by day, you realized that feelings had erupted for him. You had fallen for him.

He would unknowingly make your heart quicken. His hand softly brushing against your cheek, while lending out his scarf or jacket. His hand lightly bumping onto yours as you were walking home from school, which ended in him reaching his hand out for you. And whenever he visited you, he would kindly help your studying or cuddle next to you on your sofa.

You had taken the gesture as acts of love, who could blame you?

Only did you realize it was one sided when he came up to you, bright smile and panting a bit. Saying words you never wanted to hear.

“I’ve finally asked Ryujin out! We’re going to the get ice-cream next Saturday!” He looked at you with the brightest smile, happily telling you the ‘good’ news he had been holding onto for the entire weekend. You could feel your smile drop at mere seconds before bringing it back up. This time, forced.

“I’m really happy for you Beomgyu.” You didn’t really know what else to say. you were happy for him, sure. But at the same time, you could feel your heart crumble piece by piece as the realization hit you. He never loved you back, never even glanced a second thought about loving you. You’ve been so naive, so blind.

Before you could engage more into the conversation, Beomgyu excused himself. Mentioning something about greeting Ryuijun, which further broke you. And before you could even say a “see you later” he was off. In a way, you were thankful for not having to further talk to him, listening to him talk about his new lover would be too much to handle. And even though you could play it of cool, you knew the facade wouldn’t hold forever.

Eventually class begun and you tried to focus on the professor before you, but your mind kept slipping away. Thinking about Beomgyu. You had caught yourself thinking about him before, but today was different. In the end, you couldn’t hold yourself. Feeling tears peck at the corner of your eyes, the last thing you wanted was to cry. So you tried holding back your tears at best,

“Don’t cry over Beomgyu, you deserve better.”

Your eyes widened at that remark. The sentence was quiet, as if only you could hear it. And while you tried to subtly look for the culprit of those words, everyone was listening intently as to what the professor had to say. Eventually you gave up, figuring that it was your mind playing tricks. You knew your mind was at a hazy state. overthinking was bound to happen at situations like these. And even though you kept that in mind, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you. This time, you knew that the feeling was real.

Turning slowly to look at your left, you saw a boy subtly staring at you with a bored expression before turning towards the professor, looking uninterested with his head resting in his hand. You remembered his face, trying to process what his name was.

Taehyun, Right? Whatever, he was just looking your way and you just happened to be so emotionally distressed that you felt eyed upon. Time to focus on the professor, don’t think about Beomgyu.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

As soon as you entered your home, you let out a loud sigh. The feeling of crying was no longer evident, but the big lump in your stomach, along with the drowning feeling of sadness was growing.

And as you tried your best to focus on something else, you couldn’t help but crumble in your bed, letting your eyes fill with sorrow as you thought about Beomgyu and Ryujin. Tears were now streaming down your blushed cheeks as you tried holding back your sobs, but eventually you couldn’t hold it back any longer. You cried for a long time, and in the end, dizziness and exhaustion caused you to fall asleep.

**Incoming call...**

The loud sound erupting from your phone woke you in a beat. In daze, you reached for your phone and answered without checking the ID.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy.

“Hey Y/N, Sorry did I wake you up or something?” You recognized that voice, quickly you scanned over the caller ID and did a mental face palm at yourself for not checking thoroughly.

“Yeah, I ended up falling asleep as soon as I came home..” you chuckled a bit, trying to sound like your normal self. You hoped that your grogginess in your voice could hide the fact that you’d been crying.

“Sorry for waking you up, hehe. I just wondered why you didn’t wait for me to walk you home..?” He sounded a bit worried, and you felt guilty for making him feel that way. Ironic.

“Oh, sorry Beomgyu.. I didn’t want to bother you and Ryujin so I figured I’d walk home earlier.” was that really a good answer, it was the truth, but did he really need to know it?

“That’s okay. But don’t worry too much about that, I still want to walk home with you, okay?” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to be rude and a small part of you were happy that Beomgyu still wanted to walk with you. But you knew that further engaging with him would lead to heartbreak. More or less, you dismissed your sinking feeling, you couldn’t say no to Beomgyu.

“Sure..” you smiled through the phone as there was a few moments of silence, you could hear Beomgyu shuffle a bit through the phone before letting out a sigh.

“Okay, good. Just wanted to make sure, I have to go now but can I call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah sure, bye Beomgyu.”

“Bye Y/N.”

A heavy sigh escapes your lips, the smile dropping at an instant. You hated this, this feeling of having to fake an facade towards him, while being at the brink of crying every second. You hated the sinking feeling in your chest whenever the thought of Beomgyu came. Beomgyu used to make you happy, make you feel butterflies. But the happiness you once felt was shot down so quickly, you didn’t know how to recover.

Trying to ease of your mind once and for all, you buried yourself in the world of television. Even though you knew watching reality shows could be frustrating, you still found them entertaining enough to engage in. The rain was pouring outside, with occasional thundering sounds loudly filling the room. You on the other hand, were to invested on the TV to even glance a second at the outside storm. Just as a commercial break erupted, a few knocks could be heard from your front door, Making you jump at your spot. Surely this was the last thing you expected to hear a thundering evening like this. Your chest tightened as you looked at the wooden door before quickly glancing at the clock hung over the TV.

07:23 PM, neither to late nor to early for visitors. Questioning who could be at the door was unnecessary since you knew Beomgyu was out of the question. And thus you were stuck on whether you should open to door or not. A soft knock could be heard once again. You let out a sigh trying to ignore the person at the door. But the curiosity got the better of you.

Slowly you made your way to the door, turning the cold handle, feeling a chill crawl your spine. As you opened it, you were faced with

“Taehyun?”

You never expected to come face-to-face with Kang Taehyun. Sure, he was a close friend to Beomgyu. But you never saw him as your close friends, If even friends at all. you’d only only had a few conversations which usually was led by Beomgyu. Never did you think Taehyun would stand before you.

He stood in the rain, holding an umbrella to his right and a plastic back to his left. His shoulders were wet from the rain, indicating that he was outside and a bit caught of guard when the rain started. His hair and beanie dripping small droplets onto the pavement.

“Uhm, what brings you here?” You had genuine confusion in your voice as you eyed him up and down. But you didn’t want to sound rude, he did make time to come here.

“I just wanted to come by, I’ve brought snacks.” He answered monotonous, not seeming to be bothered by the growing tension between you. Sure, you knew he could be bold at times. But this was uncalled for. Further confusion grew on you.

“Okay..? thanks..” you scooted yourself to the side and widened the door, signaling for him to come in. Quickly, he closed his umbrella, shaking the water off it before stepping in.

It was quiet, very awkward as you closed the door behind him. The air felt electric, you wanted to say something but nothing came up. eventually, Taehyun spoke up again,

“I saw what happened this morning, with Beomgyu.. it was really sad to watch.” He kept that monotone voice as he said those words. how could he say something like that, while acting so confident?

you felt shocked at his statement. He came all the way here to tell you that? You almost felt a bit offended.

“Okay? So you’ve just come here to make fun of me?” You scoffed at his blunt remark, crossing your arms at his confidence.

“Actually, I’ve come to offer a deal.”

“A deal?” You looked at him with visible confusion as you shifted the weight on your stance.

“I know you like Beomgyu, it’s pretty obvious,” obvious? Maybe for an outsider but, did Beomgyu also think it was obvious? You kept listening as to what he had to say.

“And I also know how hurt you were, by him I mean. I saw you trying to hold back your tears in the classroom. And since you deserve better, I wondered if you wanted to be my girlfriend.”

That was uncalled for, you didn’t even know how to react to a sentence like that. Be his girlfriend? Why? Was he actually serious right now? This almost felt unreal.

“W- what?” Was all you could muster out, still being in utter shock at his previous statement.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, I’ll treat you right.” He answered. An answer that was so dislocated from everything. How could he say something like that so easily? Trying to calm yourself down, you questioned him

“What is the point? You don’t really like me and It wouldn’t benefit you? More or less, I’m not really the type of person you would date. I don’t really understand.”

“I’ll keep it simple, you’re pretty interesting and I’m bored. You’ll just have to be my girlfriend, and I’ll give you as much attention as you want. That’s it.”

It was a rather simple request, Taehyun knew what you wanted, was he really that observant? Did he see how lonely you were? Sure, if anyone looked close enough they would notice, but how close of an eye has Taehyun been keeping on you? his reasoning for wanting you was that he was bored? Taehyun wasn’t the type to play with a girls feelings, that much you knew. But couldn’t he find enjoyment somewhere else? He wasn’t directly unpopular nor a loner. You knew many people that fawned over the infamous Kang Taehyun, amazing at sports, singing, having good looks and being very smart. Why would he engage in something like this, when he could be in a real relationship. you didn’t understand.

Even though you were confused as ever, you couldn’t help but thinking about accepting his offer. Sure, it wouldn’t fill the void completely, but it could be a good distraction. As he said, he was willing to give you all the attention you needed. You gulped, heaving a sad sigh before speaking up,

“Sure.. I accept the offer.. but keep in mind that I’ve never dated anyone so..” you trailed off, not knowing how to further the sentence.

“Just be yourself. I know how to treat a girl, unlike some people..” with that he gave you a nod before setting down the plastic bag with the presumed ‘snacks’. You noticed how the storm had now calmed down, as if it was almost on qué.

“I’ll be heading off, I’ll see you tomorrow if that’s okay..?” You kept quiet, watching his every move. As he made his way to the metal door handle and turned it, before exiting he looked back at you.

You thought for a moment before nodding.

“Okay..”

Giving him small smile.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Night flew by quickly, along with morning, and suddenly 12 PM hit you as you made your way towards the living room. Beomgyu had called you earlier, as promised. And even though you wanted to ignore him, you couldn’t help yourself but to answer. The conversation was short, just him asking you about your morning and what you’re going to do the following hours. Of course you didn’t tell him about Taehyun, instead you said that you’d chill at home. He believed you.

Familiar knocking was heard at the door around 3 PM, and this time, you were prepared for his arrival. Before his arrival you had just spent the day wrapped around a blanket, watching movies as the rain kept pouring at an alarming rate outside. Wishing that the main characters on TV was you, having a happy ending. But now you could finally occupy your loneliness, even though your company was rather unusual.

You made your way to the door once again, checking through the curtains just to make sure ,

“Taehyun..” you were right, as expected. Slowly you opened the door for him, letting him in instantly. He once again shook his umbrella before closing the door behind him.

You watched him with big eyes as he hung his umbrella by a lonely hook, along with his dark rain coat and beanie. You figured he wanted to come more prepared against the wetness than yesterday when his head was drenched. Not much words were spoken, just a weirdly comfortable silence that bestowed between you. As he slowly looked around your house, looking at pictures of you and your family. You figured you had to break the silence,

“Nice blanket..” he spoke up before you, you didn’t even notice that you still had a blanked wrapped around your shoulders, more or less, a Hello kitty one you’ve had since you were young. He smirked to himself as he said those words,

“Oh... thanks hehe..” you were embarrassed to say the least, quickly shaking if the blanket and placing it on the sofa. Quickly you try to redirect the attention.

“Do you want to sit down?” You asked, a bit of nervousness was evident in your voice. Taehyun gave you small nod before walking over to the couch, taking a seating.

You watched him as he looked around once again, stopping at the TV in front of him.

Quietly you sat next to him, keeping a fair distance. You were still nervous and awkward about the whole ordeal. Taehyun on the other hand seemed like the opposite, more confident and laid back. You tried focusing on the movie in front of you, but you could feel deep dark eyes staring at you. Watching your every move as if you’re the most fascinating thing on earth. It made you uneasy. You couldn’t help but compare him to Beomgyu. How could you still be so fixated on him, comparing Taehyuns every move to Beomgyus. You tried shaking that feeling off, you did all this to forget about Beomgyu, remember? So the last thing you want is to always think about him.

Before your internal fight could become an internal war, you felt a warm hand brush against yours. And before you knew it, Taehyuns hand had slowly held a firm grip on yours. You didn’t dare to look over at Taehyun. He knew what he was doing, and still, the way he held your hand so delicate, like it was made out of precious glass about to break any second. He was gentle, and you couldn’t help but to crave more of his warmth. You even questioned how he could feel so warm when he was just outside in the freezing rain. You felt him shift a little bit closer to you, his arm lightly touching yours. Watching from the corner of your eyes, as you saw him grabbing that mentioned blanked from before, softly draping it over the two of you, before he slowly pulled you down, allowing you to rest on his shoulder.

Your heart was beating fast, as if it would explode at any second. You felt Taehyun shift further, now leaning towards you, gently leaning his head onto yours as he kept watching the movie. You didn’t know how you’d allow this, but you enjoyed his warmth. His softness. He was gentle with you, occasionally stroking your hand lightly with his thumb. And in a weird way, he made you feel comfortable. Eventually you started leaning more firmly into his touch, cuddling him further.

It was something you had been dreaming about for so long, having someone you could call “lover”. And for the first time in a long time, you forgot about all your worries, forgot about the pain that you’d once felt towards the one you held dearly. Taehyuns touch was enough to make you melt. Your thoughts were in haven, before a bickering started to occur. Unintentionally, beomgyu entered your mind once again. Thinking about him and Ryujin, in this exact position, would Beomgyu also hold Ryujin like this, letting her rest her head on the nape of his neck, occasionally give him kisses.

Taehyun seemed to noticed your shift in behavour, figuring what had occupied your mind.

Slowly, he leaned closer on your head, whispering that everything would be okay. The sweet affirmations surprisingly gave you a reassurance. Slowly you could feel your eyes falter, taking in his sweet scent, and warmth, you could feel yourself drift to sleep in Taehyuns touch.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A/N:

Hello! My name is Em hehe! And yeah this is my first post. I hope you liked it and I’m sorry if there was anything grammatically incorrect.

I actually took a lot of inspiration from a SP fanfic I read 2 years ago when writing this story. But I really enjoyed writing this a lot (although it’s a bit hastily written since I wrote it over night, sleep is for the weak)

Thank you for reading ! (Also sorry for being so awkward I’m new to this hehe)

This work belongs to @Beomeli on tumblr. Please do not trace or copy my work ©

[heliads]

Too Cold

Based on this request: “imagine with Bucky where you're on a mission in the mountains but due to the weather you need to stay in a little cabin for the night but it's terribly cold. He lights a fire but then he offers you his sweater. You're both getting closer (you have a crush as well on each other), so you kinda forget about the mission and just enjoy the time together as you also share a meaningful kiss?”

masterlist

“It’s going to be cold. Siberia, midwinter, ski resort? It’ll be freezing.” Bucky fixes you with an expecting gaze. You return the stare. “Buck, I’ve been on missions for years. I’ve trained and fought and killed in some of the worst places on the planet. I think I can handle a little snow.” Bucky shrugs. “I hope that’s true, because I’d like to focus on the mission, and being able to laugh at you for being wrong would distract me.”

You toss a glare his way. “You are a horrible friend.” Bucky just grins. “Maybe so.” You roll your eyes, then turn your attention back to the guidebooks and manila file folders strewn across the table in front of you. In less than 24 hours, you and Bucky will embark on a mission to ice-cold Siberia, posing as a pair of newlyweds at a ski resort. Such an elaborate scheme would usually never be a part of the Avengers’ repertoire, but the couple you’re investigating is so wily and tricky that you have no other choice.

The targets in question are a man and a woman, Sara and Henri Antonovich. They were noted members of HYDRA before the organization’s collapse, and their names are frequently listed among the visitors of certain Siberian military bases, especially ones containing Winter Soldiers. There have been rumored sightings of them around the area, and now you have proof that they’ll be staying at this particular resort in the hopes of meeting someone and making a deal. So, you and Bucky must go there as well, to catch them in the act.

The plane ride is uneventful, and you touch down in Siberia without too many worries. Bucky, already prepared to act the part of the dutiful husband, links your hand through his, leaning close as if to whisper a declaration of love. Instead, he tells you that a car is waiting, driven by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who will give you fake IDs and deliver you to your assigned rental cabin. Such is the romantic life of an undercover agent.

By the time you get there, you’re shivering. The car was cold, the journey up the icy walkway was cold, the time spent standing in the freezing winter air whilst you try to find your key was cold, and this cabin, unfortunately, is also cold. You walk through the door, hoping to find some last remnants of heating, but you are sorely disappointed. You walk briskly over to the thermostat, cranking it up and muttering something under your breath about stingy S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who wouldn’t even let you be warm in your own undercover house.

Bucky, noticing your arms wrapped tightly around you, grins. “What happened to your years of experience? Are they not helping you against the cold?” You make a face at his back, but Bucky does not see it and continues checking out some data file disguised as a paperback that he brought with him. 

You purse your lips together. It’s strange- you’ve known Bucky for a while now, long enough to consider him a friend. The two of you have these moments like companionship, just like now, with jokes being exchanged and laughter bubbling out. But then Bucky seems to remember something, and it’s like a switch is flipped. He stays quiet and doesn’t open his mouth for a long time after that. You’re not sure what he’s thinking about, or why he only seems to want to talk to you in small doses, but it still feels like an ever-growing thorn in your side.

Especially since you have the unfortunate habit of crushing on him. Of course you had to fall in love with the one guy who doesn’t feel the need to talk that much with you, but it wasn’t like you had that much of a choice. He just appeared in your life, with his slight smile and broken mind, and he made you feel like you were more than just a gun and a badge, a placard on a S.H.I.E.L.D. desk. He made you feel like a person, and you love him for it.

You walk over to the neat stone fireplace to light some tinder and heat this place up. You’ve never been the best with fires, and Bucky knows this, so he crouches beside you to arrange the kindling and begin the blaze. After what seems like only a couple of seconds, the spark catches and a pleasantly crackling fire appears in the fireplace. Bucky stands back, satisfied, while you hold up your hands to the warm glow, desperately trying to ward away the winter chill.

Bucky glances over at you one last time, then turns and silently disappears from the room. You bite your cheek, pretending it doesn’t hurt you that he already feels the need to leave. If he’s already sick of you after only a couple of minutes, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to come off as a loving couple. Maybe it’ll be easy for you, because you’re not entirely sure that you’ll be faking it, but you don’t know whether or not Bucky could ever look like he was in love with you.

Then he comes out of the room again, holding in his hands a thick wool sweater. He tosses it towards you, and you pick it up, slightly confused. “You look freezing. Might as well try to stay warm, right?” You beam at him, already slipping it on. “You’re the best. None of my sweaters are anywhere near this warm.” You run your hands over the thick weaving, already feeling better.

“Well, don’t thank me quite yet,” he says with a light smile, “because I’m making you go back outside again.” You stare at him, mouth hanging slightly open in outrage. “No, you’re not. I know you’re not.” Bucky grins. “Afraid so. I’ve received word that one of our supplies came in late, so they’ve dropped it off, pretending it’s just the postal service.”

You sigh dramatically, turning to grab your winter coat once again. “You are the meanest friend ever.” Bucky walks over next to you, taking his coat off the rack as well. “Husband. We’re supposed to be undercover, remember?” How could you not? You give him a sideways glance. “If we’re undercover, I feel like you shouldn’t keep bringing it up all the time.” Bucky, hiding his metal hand underneath a pair of thick winter gloves, just grins.

It is still freezing cold outside. Maybe even worse, if that’s possible. Yet you still walk down the snow-encrusted path to the brown-wrapped package waiting for the two of you, just because you and Bucky are loyal Avengers who have to get your stupid gear even though it’s going to give you both frostbite. On the walk back, though, you’re treated to something you didn’t expect at all. The neighbours are coming out of their cabin. What’s more, they just happen to be Sara and Henri Antonovich. The couple you two were sent here to investigate.

You can feel Bucky tensing just slightly beside you at the sight of them. So he’s noticed them too. They have also seen you by now, and you wait, heart pounding in your chest, to see if there’s some chance they’ll recognize you and know that they’ve been found out. Sara turns, sees you, starts walking over. This is it.

She smiles and holds out a hand. “My name is Sara, and this is my husband, Henri. Are you two also here for the skiing?” You plaster on a smile, shaking her hand. “Yes, we’d heard about all the good snow and wanted to see it for ourselves. I’m Y/N, and this is my husband, James.” Bucky smiles at her, and shakes hands with Henri. He’s careful not to use his metal arm lest he give everything away.

You stumble slightly in the snow, but Bucky’s already reached out and steadied you, arm wrapping around your waist. You glance up at him, mouthing a silent thank-you. Sara grins. “Well, aren’t you two the sweetest! Did you get married recently?” You turn back to her, ready to let out every last detail of the lie S.H.I.E.L.D. cooked up for you. “Yes, we did. I met James at work. I know you’re not supposed to date your coworkers and everything, but he was so kind that I just couldn’t help it. I never wanted to leave his side, and we’ve been together ever since. This was supposed to be our anniversary vacation.”

Sara beams. “That’s so wonderful! Well, it was nice to meet you. See you later at the mountains.” She waves goodbye, and the two of them head off to an awaiting car. You and Bucky traipse back inside your cabin, and the second the door closes behind you, you fix Bucky with a disbelieving stare. “Did that really just happen?” Bucky nods, jaw clenched. “That was definitely the Antonovichs. I think we’ve got our guys. It’s time to call in the reinforcements.”

Bucky can’t believe it. How is this mission almost over- it barely started! All he and Y/N were supposed to do was track down Sara and Henri. He had assumed that it would take several days, yet somehow S.H.I.E.L.D. had a stroke of luck and managed to book them a cabin right next door to the very pair they were searching for. Sara and Henri are surprisingly good at staying hidden, too- if Bucky hadn’t recognized their faces from the countless data sets and case files, he would have assumed that they were nothing but well-intentioned neighbours.

His eyes flicker towards Y/N, who’s currently standing in front of the fire to keep warm. He smiles in spite of himself when he sees that she’s still wearing his sweater. He doesn’t know what he was thinking when he suggested that the two of them go on this mission together- he can barely handle himself. He doesn’t know why he had to fall in love with the one girl who makes his mind freeze up and all his thoughts scatter to the wind, but it’s not like he had much of a choice. She’s just so amazing, so perfect- he can hardly think straight around her.

She, on the other hand, appears to be perfectly fine. His mind flashes back to that conversation with the Antonovichs, when she had told Sara all about their little ‘love story’. It almost hurt, in a way, to see how she was so believable when she said she loved him. If Bucky didn’t know better, he would almost think it was true. But it isn’t, of course. She’s just exceptionally good at pretending, and that’s all he’ll ever be to her, just another prop in a story. It would be better if he could remember that, but his heart still skips a beat when she turns back to him with a smile and an outstretched hand, gesturing for him to join her at the fire.

Once the appropriate calls to S.H.I.E.L.D. are placed and you know that the reinforcements are beginning their journey here, you allow yourself to relax and drift over to the fire once more. Bucky, like always, is hesitating on the fringes of the room, but you notice something different in his gaze this time. Maybe it’s just your hopeless heart deluding itself once again, but you almost think that he’s not avoiding you because he doesn’t like you, but for an altogether different reason. Maybe it’s because he likes you too much, and he’s just too afraid to lose you.

So you hold out a hand to him, and after a heartbeat, he joins you. He wraps his arm loosely around you, tilting his head to lean against yours and soak up the warm light of the fire. He speaks softly, his voice muffled as he presses his face gently against the top of your head. “Can’t believe our ski vacation is already over. It feels like we just got here.”

You nod in agreement. “Just when this cabin was starting to feel like home. Well, I guess there will always be more missions in the future. I suppose we just need to plan them out and make sure we get the best ones. You know, the ones where our targets are living next door so all we have to do is have a good time in the mountains.” Bucky chuckles softly. “If it’s all the same to you I wouldn’t mind doing something like this again.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly. “Another mission?” He shakes his head. “Another time alone. Like this, just the two of us.” When you don’t reply immediately, his gaze starts to close off, like he’s panicked that he opened up too far. What he doesn’t know is that your mind is spinning, trying to figure out what he means and if he loves you and how much you would love to spend another weekend or even a day with him. Then you beam up at him, and he relaxes again. “I would love that, Buck.”

Maybe it’s the fact that you used his nickname, or the warmth of the fire making everything seem far more comforting than usual, but Bucky finds the courage to lean down and kiss her. She smiles against his lips, and his hand creeps up to the back of her neck. When he finally breaks away, she looks positively radiant, so he kisses her again. The mission may be ending soon, and they may have to return to ordinary life, but at least in his moment, he has her at last.

[watevermelon]

Cheater!Akaashi x Reader

✧ Summary: (Continuation) Akaashi is still in love with you and begs for your forgiveness.

➳ A/N: It surprised me how many people wanted a part 2 to Akaashi’s initial cheating imagine, but here we are!!  Ask and you shall receive. People want good things for the reader and I agree -- that’s too bad this is what we got instead LMAO ➳  Masterlist ➳  Part One 

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You could’ve gone the rest of your high school career without ever having to hear the word volleyball ever again. The only interest you had in it was from your ex-boyfriend and now any reminder just left a bitter pang in the pit of your stomach. 

Thankfully, Akaashi was not in your class and there actually were not any volleyball players in your homeroom. But that didn’t stop them from popping up in your peripherals or in some rumours around school. 

Some of the members of the volleyball team would shoot looks at you, whether out of pity or curiosity, you couldn't care less. You fostered your own relationships with the athletes individually - whether it was Haruki’s strange brand of humor, Sarukui’s constant references to memes, or Wataru’s lopsided smiles - you knew them. 

You shared, or rather suffered together, in a class with Konoha the year before. A bright first year with no friends yet, Konoha was a nice person and the first one of the entire volleyball team to actually speak to you. He was even the one to introduce you to both Akaashi and Bokuto.

Out of the bunch, Konoha was often a tag-along when it came to hangouts. Whether it was to the arcade or the movie theatres, you and your (ex)boyfriend were quick to include the others. And usually Bokuto and Konoha would come along as well. Looking back, now you felt like an idiot, Konoha was one thing, but Bokuto was always there.

Nonetheless, as a member of the volleyball team, you knew Konoha was close to Akaashi. And there was no doubt which side he would be taking, no matter the moral high-ground. 

There was too much history there and there would be no attempt on your part to salvage the friendships you had with the volleyball team. 

There was no doubt of the curiosity in everyone’s minds the moment you and Akaashi were broken-up and there was a new person he was holding hands with. It went from general confusion to malicious rumours. Akaashi was the silent boy next door, the person everyone thought to be the perfect boyfriend without a bad bone in his body.

Some said that he broke up with you because you were too mean, too boring, or he simply lost interest in your boring lifestyle.

If only other people knew what he had done to you and Bokuto.

You didn’t believe this was the hill you wanted to die on. And so you ignored the carefully whispers that followed you in the hallways. Your best friends urged you to clear your name - you were the wronged party so why must you be the one to continue suffering? But this was not something you wanted to bring up again, not something you wanted to think about and relive after how painful it was the first time.

But it seemed the volleyball Gods really hated you.

Konoha approached you one day, after class had just ended but before extracurricular clubs were about to start.

“Hi.” He stood beside your locker as you organized your things, “Can we talk?”

You nodded wordlessly, packing up your bookbag and following him out the door. He guided you toward the outside fountain by the athletic building, not many students passing by as they rushed home through the main entrance. A part of you worried that some of the other volleyball members would pass by as you sat there together, but then you realized that it was no longer your problem.

You were seated on the edge, silently watching his pensive expression before he finally turned to you.

“I feel like I owe you an apology.” He started.

“What, why?”

“I could’ve told you a year ago that something strange was happening between Akaashi and Bokuto.”

You felt a lump in your throat, not sure what to say.

He shook his head and turned away, “There was something there even before you two were dating. And so even when Akaashi asked you out, I bet you were surprised?’

You frowned, but agreed quietly with a nod of your head.

“We barely knew each other at the time.”

Konoha scoffed, you were unsure why exactly, but he continued, “Out of curiosity, why did you agree?”

You smiled back wistfully at the memory, remembering how you had excitedly texted your friends on how the Akaashi Keiji had asked you to be his girlfriend.

“It was so simple back then.” You explained, “He was the kind, pretty setter of the nationally-ranked volleyball team. It was shallow, based off of what little I heard about.”

“But you grew to love him.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed, “And look what that brought me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Haruki passed by, texting away on his phone, mind on something else before he spotted the two of you. He waved at Konoha first before his eyes landed on you, widening in obvious surprise before he shot you a genuinely wide smile.

“A lot of them miss you too.” Konoha explained.

“Well sorry, I tend to avoid anything regarding the volleyball team these days.”

“Don’t worry, as much as this sucks, we understand.”  Konoha frowned, clenching one of his hands into a fist in annoyance at the situation.

“But I do miss you guys too.” You added.

Konoha smiled, fondly remembering the last time you had all gone to the arcade, “Who could forget the time you beat Haruki at Dance Dance Revolution?” 

“He certainly did not.” You recalled, “He kept challenging me all the way up to mid-terms.” 

Konoha laughed, no one on the team was able to defeat the libero. And yet here you were, all smiles and confidence radiating off of you, bringing the third year to his knees. It made Konoha wonder if the last year could have been different. 

When Akaashi had approached you, Konoha had dutifully stood to the side. The setter was one of his closest friends and never had he approached anyone in the past. He was often busy with the team or Bokuto. And for Akaashi to have asked you, it meant he was serious. And so Konoha had stood to the side, his crush on you mollified if that meant you’d be happier with the setter your age.

If Konoha had the courage to ask you out instead, would you still be close to the volleyball team? Would you be celebrating an anniversary together rather than crying over some lecherous bastard he called a friend?

You sighed and turned to Konoha, registering his earlier words. “Why are you sorry?”

“What?”

“Why are you sorry about what happened with Akaashi?”

“Ah.” He raked an open palm through his hair. “Maybe I could have stopped you.”

“What?” You asked, a confused smile on your face.

“I introduced the two of you after all.” He explained.

“Shut up.” You said in a teasing tone, “No one could have stopped it. I was just dumb enough to fall for him.”

Konoha shot a small grin back at you, “Yeah, you were.”

Sighing loudly, you made sure you had all your stuff before standing. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” Konoha held out a hand for you to shake, “I hope we can still be friends.”

It was odd, to feel the small blossom of something in the pit of your stomach. This was Konoha, your friend of two years at this point. This was nothing more than him trying his best to affirm your friendship, you reminded yourself.

“I hope so too.”

And, to his credit, he really did try. It was simple things - you had each other’s chat ID’s from your shared class together and, every once in a while, he would send you a meme or a small tidbit of information. You still had things in common, subjects ranging from the current shounen anime and TV shows you kept up with.

It was refreshing to talk to him. Your friends had your back, but the school’s curiosity was not easily satisfied with time. People were naturally nosy, eager to know the true reasons behind your failed relationship. Both you and Akaashi had yet to even address it and it only got worse with Bokuto’s increasing PDA.

Thankfully, no one was audacious enough to actually approach you about the situation. No one else was involved in your relationship and they had no right to actually point fingers.

That was until someone had the audacity to come up to you during the free period, most of everyone on campus enjoying their lunches.

You were sitting at your usual table, waiting for your friends to come from their respective classrooms when one of the more annoying third-years came up to you.

You recognized her as president of the Fukurodani Volleyball fanclub, this should be fun.

“I think you should apologize to Akaashi-san.”

You closed your book and looked up. The usual bustle of the lunchroom was dying down, many people silencing as they turned to the interaction. 

“What?”

“For wasting his time - he deserved so much better than you.” She bit out cruelly, the other girls behind her nodding in agreement. “And we all think it’s high time you beg for forgiveness.”

You stood up, pure annoyance rolling off of you. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? I don’t?” She challenged, “Why would Akaashi date you of all people? And now that the two of you are broken-up he’s been sadder than I’ve ever seen him! This is your fault!”

You slapped your book down and raised your chin, “If that’s what you honestly think then you’re as ignorant as you are a meddling piece of shit.” 

The murmurs that followed were obvious, people listening in to your harsh response.

She raised her hand as if to slap you, obviously offended at being called out to the entire lunchroom. “Why I outta --”

But the offending hand never came.

“Leave her alone.”

You could recognize your ex-boyfriend’s voice anywhere. Turning, you saw Bokuto enter your field of vision and grasp at her wrist in a tight hold, held high above your head. Akaashi was standing on the other side in front of you, an arm-outstretched as if to protect you from the group of girls.

“She didn’t do anything wrong.” Akaashi stated clearly, his gaze was unwavering from the girl, but you were sure that the entire room was now listening in. “It was me.”

She stuttered, attempting to save face, “Akaashi-san, surely that’s not true.”

He turned to her, his blank expression now marginally colder. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

The mean third-year visibility recoiled, turning to you and apologizing under her breath. Bokuto swung her arm away, his glare enough to scare away the rest of the group, but the room was still obviously silent. Bokuto scanned the rest of the room with his tough stare, many people turning away and vainly attempting to restart their conversations. 

Akaashi turned to you, an unsure expression on his face. There were words on the tip of his tongue, you were sure, since he looked as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say.

“I’m not going to say thanks.” You decided to start for him.

“I know.”

You wanted to turn away from him again, no words left for you to say or even scream at him through your anger. This was more than just some ex, you genuinely loved Akaashi and thought he was going to be your future. And from the way he acted, it seemed like the setter wanted that as well.

“There’s something I want to say.” Akaashi stated before you could flee.

“Maybe not here.” Bokuto tugged at your elbow, motioning to the nearest hallway with his chin. 

You followed Akaashi wordlessly, Bokuto behind you to make sure you didn’t just run away. You sure that there were more than a few dozen pairs of eyes sticking to the backs of your strange trio.

Akaashi led you to a corner, no one to spy on your conversation unless they hung outside the building from the window. He moved to gently grasp your forearms, but you pushed him off before he could get a firm hold on you. 

He frowned, but looked at you intently. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” You stated back plainly, “I can’t forgive you.”

Akaashi hesitated, a dejected look on his face. “I know.”

Every bone in your body was screaming at you to walk away, to stop looking at his despondent pout and not fall for his sad look. You remembered the first time you fell in love with his smile - how easy he would flash that beaming expression at you. How Akaashi would tell you how much he loved you and it filled your heart until it overflowed.

And now all of those memories were worth nothing.

Screw being a bigger man, your heart had a thousand things it wanted to say.

“I really loved you, you know.” You pushed at his shoulder, “And now I can’t look at you without feeling like I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I was so in love with you I thought this would be it.” You felt your heart crying, but urged the motion down. “Why kiss me and tell me you love me when you had someone else on your mind the entire time?!”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Akaashi looked just as anguished, trying to reach out to you with shy hands on your shoulders. “Please just listen to me.”

But you shoved him away this time, “What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I love you.” 

His blue eyes bore right into your own, determined and sure of his previous statement. Looking over his shoulder, Bokuto was standing to the side, his gaze stuck on you as well. How the hell was this normal?

“What?”

Akaashi paused, hands coming up to hold you but stopping short again when he realized that was the last thing you needed. “I’m in love with both of you.”

You huffed and took a step back, what could you possibly say to that? There was a sudden flurry of emotions just whirring around your mind -  a rush of elation at being loved, immediately squashed down by the annoyed at Akaashi’s selfishness.

You turned to Bokuto, “You believe this?”

The wing-spiker frowned, but affirmed it in a loud voice. “Yes.”

“No.” You started back quickly, shaking your head. “I refuse to be part of this.”

“It’s true.” Akaashi pushed, moving toward you with an ernst expression on.

“I don’t care if it’s true or not.” You moved away again, but this time Akaashi did not let you evade him. Putting firm hands on your shoulders, he pulled you against his chest. “Stop.”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I can’t.” Akaashi continued, “I love you and it hurts me so much that I hurt you in the process.”

You struggled against his hold until he let go. “How could I listen to you be so selfish?” 

“I know.”

“Don’t involve me in this.” You motioned at the both of them in a wide circle. 

“(F/N).” Akaashi stressed, eager to get you to see his side, but you wanted nothing to do with him or Bokuto. He broke your heart enough, there was no way you were willing to entertain him back in your life.

“What don’t you understand about leaving me alone?” You raised your voice, annoyed that Akaashi was asking anything of you after treating you so cruelly.

“Please let me explain.” Akaashi kept repeating.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing that Akaashi could say that would ever make you think about introducing him back into your life. He was terrible for lying to you for months, maybe even as long as a year, but you didn’t want to exactly ask the length of his infidelity. He was a terrible boyfriend and an even worse person - you were ready to raise hands at both boys if they didn’t let you go this instant.

Bokuto blocked your path this time, “(L/N), come on we just -- “

“What’s going on here?” A gentle hand fell on your shoulder, pushing Bokuto aside as a new person entered your conversation.

Konoha stood tall behind you, his sudden appearance quelling your rising anger. If not, you were sure that you were going to throw hands with the volleyball boys. Bokuto would probably fight you off, but slapping Akaashi would feel cathartic in a way.

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Bokuto tried to wave away the other wing spiker. “We’re just talking.”

“(F/N), please. Let me explain it all to you.” Akaashi stressed, moving a step in your direction, to which Konoha challenged when he tilted his head upward. 

“Right, just talking.” Konoha murmured in disbelief before turning to you. “And how do you feel?”

“I’ve had enough of this conversation.”

Both Akaashi and Bokuto exclaimed your name in contrasting tones, but you hardened your expression before turning away from them. Konoha still had a hand on your shoulder as you walked back to the lunchroom.

Your friends were already at your table, some of them standing around pacing while others were angrily chewing into their food. A chorus of your name followed as the two of you neared the table, some of them getting up from their seats to give you a comforting hug.

“(F/N)!” Your best friend was quick to rush you, crushing you between her arms. “We heard that Akaashi and Bokuto basically ushered you away.”

“The whole lunchroom was basically watching that door.” Another stated, pointing to the one you just came from.

Your best friend put her hands on your shoulder, steading your attention back to her. “Please tell me you remembered that men ain’t shit.”

Konoha laughed as he put a mocking hand of offense over his heart.

“Yeah, yeah.” You assured her, “I’m not about to make the same mistake again.”

“Good.” She confirmed, before turning to Konoha. “Okay, only Konoha has rights.”

“Thanks.” He stated back half-heartedly, guiding you back to your lunch and taking the seat beside you.

“When people told us they took you away, we weren’t sure what to do. Go after you? Call you to give you an out? We didn’t even know how long you had been gone for!” She explained, “Thankfully Konoha here came to the rescue.”

You turned to the wing-spiker, smiling as you did so. “He really did, thank you.”

He reflected a similar expression back at you, holding your gaze before springing away to take out his own lunch out of his bag.

“I take it back, the volleyball team has no rights with the exception of Konoha.” One of your friends joked.

As for you, you could not help but think back to the fond expression Konoha just shot you. It was so quick, and yet so genuine, you felt it pierce your heart so suddenly just to rip away from you when he turned away. But not in a bad way, per se.

If anything, this was a nice feeling, for a lack of a better term, to have again. You were not totally healed, still angry at both Akaashi and Bokuto for being complete fuckheads. But a part of you was still alive, happy to see Konoha as your friend and just maybe… maybe something else.

Akaashi and Bokuto returned back to the lunchroom silently, having left their stuff at their now fully occupied table. Bokuto didn’t bother to even turn in your direction, but Akaashi shot you a devastatingly sad frown as he passed. 

A part of you wanted to comfort it, to leap out at the man who loved you for the past year. But you were thankfully steadied back to reality when Konoha put a gentle hand on your own. Akaashi’s gaze fell to the contact, making him stop entirely in his tracks. It was only when Bokuto grabbed his hand did the setter continue walking, but the shock on his face was palpable.

No matter, Akaashi was the last thing you wanted on your mind right now.

You upturned your hand and squeezed Konoha’s smiling at the third-year before turning back to your lunch.

The situation was far from resolved, you still had another two years at this drama-infested school and Akaashi seemed keen on explaining something to you. You were far from completely healed and it seemed the student body would not let this drama go unnoticed.

But you were getting there.

Little by little, you were re-learning to smile and laugh more. Places on campus were no longer bitter memories, but quiet lessons for you to remember. You had your loving best-friends and suddenly, the kind Konoha, at your side.

You had no worries about the rest of the school year, you would get through this with a head held high.

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A/N: TBH for myself i could see this going both ways; reader saying nah OR reader entering a poly relationship. idk - i’ll write it if someone wants to see that ending but otherwise here we are :):

➳  Masterlist

[winterscaptain]

fear itself.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part two of the 100 arc! this installment covers the events of faceless, nameless. i am living for the feedback! please keep it coming. i can’t wait to hear what you think as we go through this (very emotionally wrought) section.

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 4.5k warnings: canon-typical violence, language, hospital setting

summary: four hours of sleep and aaron’s missing. what else could go wrong?

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

4:02am “Just got home, so I’m calling like you asked. Shoot me a text when you get back to the apartment, if you aren’t already asleep. Call me when you’re up and we can work on that Nebraska consult, maybe in the early afternoon? Goodnight. Sleep well.”

8:13am “Hey, it’s me. I know I’m not supposed to be worried about you, but we were called in a half hour ago and you’re still not here...so...give me a call when you get this. Bye.”

8:48am “Hey, it’s me, checking in again. You’re probably still asleep, but I’ve never known you to sleep more than seven hours...so if I don’t hear from you by eleven I’ll drag you out of bed myself.”

9:51am “We’re headed to the crime scene. Garcia’s sent you the address. I know JJ’s been calling you too, so just...I dunno? Call us back? Bye.”

10:20am “If you’re getting these and ignoring me, I hope you know you’re taking years off my life right now.”

11:08am “Um...Call me back. I’m starting to worry. Well...not starting. I’ve been worried. But I’m getting...really worried.” 

11:37am “Aaron please call me and let me know you’re alright. You’re scaring me.”

+++

Needless to say, it’s been a weird day. Why you expected anything else after that wretched Canada case and four hours of sleep, you have no idea. 

You had a horrible dream last night, on top of everything else. The image of Aaron broken and bleeding beside you hadn’t left your mind since it first appeared in Foyet’s kitchen. You tried to shake it off every time, but it was persistent. 

We’ll worry about that later. 

You check the time again, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your gut. 

Where is he? 

Your phone rings and your heart leaps. Guilt (and a little bit of embarrassment) pricks at you when you’re disappointed to see Emily’s name on your phone. You answer. 

“You have to get down here.” Her voice isn’t frantic, per se, but the urgency is undeniable. 

“What’s going on?” 

She takes a breath. “I just got off the phone with Garcia - I have crime scene techs and SWAT on the way to Hotch’s apartment, and I need you here.” 

All the blood in your body seems to rush into your head, and you lean heavily on the nearest object - the dining room table. “What?”

“I - I don’t know. All his stuff is here and there's -” She stutters for a second. “There’s blood on the carpet, broken glass, and a bullet hole in the wall by the kitchen. No Hotch.” 

An eerie kind of calm washes over you, and you straighten, making eye contact with Derek. “Okay. Let me just -”

Derek gets a call, but keeps his eyes on you. “What’s goin’ on, Baby Girl?...What do you mean ‘Emily just called SWAT to Hotch’s apartment’ what -“

You break his gaze as he nods at you and turns to the rest of the team. “Emily, I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere.” 

+++

You make it to the hospital with Emily. You flash your credentials and it gets you exactly where you want to go. 

When you see him, your breath catches. He looks awful - drawn and small and wrapped in what seems like miles of gauze. Emily grabs your arm, but you’re not sure if it's for her benefit or yours. 

This is, after all, your worst nightmare come to life. A little chill crawls up your spine. This whole thing has you feeling six different kinds of scared. 

The nurse lets you into his room, telling you he’ll be out for another hour, at least. “He needs the rest.”

Emily leaves you to retrieve coffee. You take the opportunity to sit beside him and slide your hand under his, careful not to disturb the IV. Your hand shakes - whether from anxiety, fear, fury, or all of the above, you’re not sure. 

“If you die, Aaron Hotchner, I’ll kill you.”

You hear a little laugh from the doorway and you pull your hand from him. Emily shakes her head, two cups of coffee in her hands. “You’re fine. I'm not going to tattle.”

You squint. “Tattle?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re so clueless it’s almost cute, but he’s worse.” She throws her head toward Hotch with a fond smile, handing you your cup of coffee.

+++

The rest of the team arrives in a flurry a little while later, and the nurse has to warn them off as Aaron starts to wake. 

They quiet down, surrounding his bedside. You haven’t moved, making it your mission to keep your eyes on him at all times. 

His eyes flutter before closing again. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and steady despite the tightness in your chest. 

“How did I get here?”

Derek gets that one. “Foyet drove you.” 

Aaron takes a breath. It’s shaky, and you imagine he’s in a lot of pain. Emily leans forward, looking for his eyes. “Can you remember what happened?”

He tells you, slowly, about how Foyet broke into the apartment, waited until he was home with his guard down, fired a shot, and then...He trails off. A heavy breath leaves him. “What did he take?”

You have an answer. “There was a page missing from your day planner, the Bs from the address section.” 

He closes his eyes and his breath grows faster, his heart rate increasing. After a moment, he collects himself and asks Emily, “What did he leave?”

“I don’t know.” 

“He also leaves something with his victims.”

Emily shakes her head. “I looked through your entire apartment. Nothing felt out of place.”

“Where are my clothes?”

“Right here.” You reach over, grabbing the bag and removing his bloody shirt with only the barest moment of hesitation. He reaches for the envelope of his personal effects and you press it into his hand, saving him the effort. 

Tears prick at your eyes as you watch his hands shake, opening his wallet. He’s eerily quiet, and you catch a glimpse of a photo, tucked into the fold. 

Haley and Jack. There’s blood on it. You recognize it from the desk in his home office space. 

No. 

Aaron’s come to the same conclusion, falling back on the pillows with a look you can only describe as defeated. It scares you. You swallow, pushing your tears back. 

That’s the last thing he needs right now. 

“Haley’s maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands.” Your hand, like JJ’s, has fallen over your mouth. 

Oh. 

Of course. 

Of course, he keeps her under Brooks. All he wants to do is keep her safe. 

You hope, one day, that someone will love you that much, will want to protect you with the same ferocity, will think of you before anything else. 

You could only be so lucky. 

He swallows and continues. “He knows where they live.”

Derek makes assignments. You’re to stay right where you are, while the rest focus on locating Haley and Jack. 

When it’s just the two of you, he closes his eyes again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if -”

“They’ll find her. They’ll find Jack. They’ll be safe.”

You have to believe it, too. They’re too important to you, to central to your life, now 

He shakes his head, his eyes cracking open. “Why didn’t I just take the deal?” Clearing his throat, he continues, his voice a little stronger, but still rough. “He told me I should have. I never thought -” He cuts himself off.

You hand him a cup of water, and he takes it gratefully. Idly, you note he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet. 

“Do you want an answer to your question?”

He doesn’t answer you, looking across the room. 

You lean into his eye line. “You didn’t take the deal because you have the most integrity of anyone I’ve ever known. Anything he does is on him. It’s not on you.” 

“But,” his voice breaks and the smallest of tears falls out of his eye. It tracks down his temple until you gently wipe it away with your thumb. “But I could have stopped all of this.” 

“No,” you whisper. Your hand lingers on the side of his face. “No. He’ll be this way wherever he goes. The only way you change that is by catching him, Hotch.” 

He finally looks at you, his brown eyes exhausted, hurting, and bloodshot. You card your fingers through the hair at his temple, putting the oxygen cannula back over his ear. Soon, he closes his eyes again, his vitals evening out as he falls asleep. 

“We’ll get him, Aaron.”

A few tense minutes later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. When you see the caller ID, a shot of adrenaline zings around your body. “Haley?”

Your name is a sigh of relief in her mouth. “SWAT scared the hell out of me and I just - I don’t know.”

“Oh, Haley I’m so sorry. I should have gone over there with the team but -“ Derek knew my stress wouldn’t be useful. 

“No, no. It’s fine. They’re getting Jack from a friend’s house, but they told me what’s going on. I’ll see you when I get to the hospital. I just -“ She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I just freaked out.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

Your heart pulls. “I love you, too.” 

She hangs up, and you stuff your phone back in your pocket. 

Aaron wakes again when you pull a case file from your bag, but you’re not sure it’s your doing.

Shit. 

He looks around a little frantically for a moment, still disoriented. You rise and cross the room, finding one of his hands. 

“Hotch, it’s okay. You’re still in the hospital.” 

“Haley?”

You nod. “They got her. She’s safe and she’s on her way with Jack.” 

He finally relaxes, sinking back down into the pillows. “Thank you.”

You nod and resume your place on the other side of the room, patting the back of his hand as you let him go. He’s quiet, if not a little fidgety. You look at him for a minute. He takes a talking breath. 

“After the first one, it kind of goes blank.” His breath is still a little unsteady, and you take your chair next to his bed again. “There were nine, apparently.” 

Your breath catches. It’s not new information, but it’s still raw, sharp-edged. 

Awful.

He swallows. “He taunted me.” His eyes beg you to understand, to keep him from flying off the rails. 

“He’s a bastard, Aaron.”

He levels you with a withering stare. No shit. 

“I know you know that, but it’s worth repeating.”

“I don’t want -“

You interrupt him, knowing exactly where he’s going. “You’re not going to become a victim. You aren’t a victim.”

“I don’t want Haley to -“ 

You press a hand to his arm, mindful of his bandages. “One day at a time. They’re safe today.”

His lip quivers and his voice leaves him in a whisper. “That’s not good enough.”

+++

Eventually, Haley arrives looking a little worse for wear. 

Her haircut’s really cute. 

The thought almost makes you laugh. 

Of all the things to notice...

You startle a little as you remember where you are and rise, ready to give them space. She waves you off, giving you permission to stay. 

“How do you feel?” She asks. 

Aaron sits up a little more, not without effort, and says, “I’m gonna be okay.” 

That’s not what she asked, stupid. 

He continues. “Did they explain to you what’s happening?”

She nods. “They said the marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody.” Her eyes meet yours, and you dip your chin. She’s right. 

Aaron apologizes to Haley for the first of what you imagine will be many times. 

Her lower lip disappears between her teeth. “Do you know where they’re gonna take us?”

“No,” you answer. “We don’t. And that’s the point.” 

“I can’t know where you’re going,” Aaron adds. “If you have any contact with anyone, he can track you.”

That shocks her a little, and you can see she’s getting upset. “Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now. I have -” She cuts herself off. 

“I know.” He levels a steady, solemn gaze upon her. “And I’m sorry. We will catch him and you’ll come back.”

She looks at you again. “Are you sure we’re in danger?” 

You nod, almost imperceptibly, and Hotch answers. “Yes.” 

“And what about you? Are you gonna be safe?”

There it is. 

She does love him. 

You knew that, of course. Seeing them together during visits at home or out to dinner or otherwise in the presence of that other, that was never in question.

Your heart tugs. 

Twenty-five years... 

“He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can’t see him is better than killing me.”

Haley wets her lips and swallows. 

That’s her tell. 

You figure she’ll burst into tears pretty soon. It was only a matter of time, and you don’t blame her in the least. You’ve had tears threatening you all afternoon, and this wasn’t even happening to you. 

“Jack wants to see you.”

Aaron’s jaw gets a little tight. “I want to see him, too. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

You hear what he can’t say, too. I don’t want to scare him. I don’t want him to see me like this. 

“Look,” she says, exasperated. “I know you’re trying to protect him, but you both need this. Please.”

He nods, resigned. “Okay.”

Haley looks over and offers you a shaky smile, trying to break the tension. “He also asked me if you’d be here. He’ll be thrilled.” 

That almost does you in. “So will I,” you tell her, meaning every syllable. 

With another brisk nod and wipe of her face, she leaves the room to retrieve Jack. Aaron sits up a little straighter and you help him. He tries to suppress his wince, but fails. 

“Do you need another round?” 

He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just let me know.” You settle back into the corner, the case file in your lap. 

Haley and Jack return, and she brings him to Aaron’s side, lifting him up onto the bed. 

Aaron meets his eyes and tells him that he’s okay, giving him a little preparing for what’s about to happen. “But, what do I tell you whenever I go away?”

“That you love me.” 

You hide your face, looking out the window as tears finally fall from your eyes. Haley’s eyes are on you and you know it. You wipe at your face and take a quiet breath before turning back, pretending to pay attention to the case in your lap. 

In your periphery, you can see Aaron looking over Jack’s face as if to memorize it, as if he doesn’t already know every plane, every curve, every angle of his son’s face. “More than anything in the world.” 

They exchange a few more words before he brings him close and kisses his forehead. You glance up, and they look so alike in their profiles it almost makes you smile. Haley’s crying, too, and she meets your eyes. 

Something passes between you, but you don’t have a name for it. 

You don’t need one. 

Haley takes a breath and tucks her hair behind her ears. She redirects Jack’s attention to you, and his eyes light up. She helps him scramble off the bed and he books it around the bed to you. 

You close the case file and open your arms to him. “Hi, bud.” It’s hard not to scare him with the feverish way you hold him close, your fingers wound in his hair. 

There’s a failed attempt to avoid thinking about the uncertainty of the future, when you’ll see him again. 

If ever.

Stop. 

The pair of you lean back for a minute, and you brush his hair away from his forehead. 

“Are you going away, too?” He asks. 

You shake your head. “I’m gonna stay here with your dad.” 

“Are you going to keep my dad safe? I’m going to keep Mom safe.”

It’s Aaron who looks away this time. 

“Of course, my love.” You offer him something you hope looks like a smile. “We always keep each other safe. We’re a team, like you and your momma. I’m so proud of you.” You check in with Haley, who’s looking away, the back of her hand swiping at her cheek. When she turns back to you, you tilt your head a little. 

Want a minute? 

She nods. 

You stand, Jack still tucked against your chest. “I think,” you say, as he sits back in your arms, “Miss Emily and Miss JJ are back and might have something fun for you over there.” You tip your head toward the waiting room. “Wanna go see?”

He nods, leaning back into you and playing with your collar. You pat Aaron’s knee and squeeze Haley’s shoulder with your free hand as you pass. 

Aaron watches you go, your low murmuring comforts to Jack lost in the ambient hospital noise. When you find JJ and look back, giving him a small (if not a little watery) smile, he looks over at Haley, guilt closing up his throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Haley. I promise, when this is all over, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” 

She gives him a half-smile and sits on the edge of his bed. She reaches for him, and he takes both of her hands in his. There’s silence for a moment as they sit together. She studies him. 

While it doesn’t bother him (she has been looking at him for nearly twenty-five years, after all), he does feel more exposed under her gaze than he’s used to. 

“You should do something about that, one of these days,” she says, looking over her shoulder. You’re still visible in the window, talking to JJ while Jack is still glued to you. His little arms are tight around your neck, his head tucked under your chin.

Aaron’s brow furrows, but the EKG picks up the increase in his heart rate, much to his embarrassment. “What are you talking about?”

Haley laughs, a light, watery, delicate thing, and turns back to him. It almost brings a smile to his face. “Do you think I don’t know what you look like when you’re head over heels, Aaron Hotchner? After eighteen years of marriage and twenty-five years knowing you? Give me a break.”

His jaw grows tight, but he holds her gaze. 

“You used to look at me like that, you know.” A little smile plays at her lips and she looks down, almost shy. “Still do, sometimes.” 

“I love you, Haley.” 

She squeezes his hand. “I know you do.” A sigh leaves her and she looks over her shoulder again, just catching a glimpse of you and JJ out in the hall with Jack as you go scavenging for something sweet. There’s a little smile at the corner of her mouth when she turns back to him. “You are so loved, Aaron.” 

“I don't…” He huffs, frustrated. “I don’t feel -”

“I’m not saying you have to do anything, but it might do you some good to just…” She sighs, throwing a hand up in a kind of searching gesture. “I don’t know, be honest with yourself. Think for a minute.” 

His teeth worry the inside of his lower lip as he thinks about it. He does care about you. But love? 

He thinks of the way his chest feels too small whenever you laugh, the way he always goes above and beyond to make sure you’re safe in the field, how he looks for you when you’re out of the room, how he looks for you when you’re in the room. 

The way you are with Jack brings him to his knees every time. The sound of his son’s laughter under your tickling fingers never fails to bring a smile to his face. 

You’ve helped him heal what seemed like an insurmountable chasm between him and Haley, and though it’s not perfect, it’s better than it would ever be without you. 

You always take a second to straighten his tie and ensure his suit jacket lays flat across his shoulders before leaving the plane, just like he always takes time to count the rounds in your magazines or tuck your tag back into your shirt collar. 

He always feels so warm under your fond and attentive touch. With a little bit of alarm, he hopes you feel the same under his. Safe. Cared-for. 

Loved. 

Oh. 

Oh no.

He knows the realization is clear on his face when Haley laughs again, surprising them both. She swipes at her eyes again, clearing any remaining tears. “You know, I can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t know, but it’s still funny, even with all this.” She shakes her head. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”

His face breaks out into a little smile as he looks back at her. “Oh, quit.” 

“I’ll never quit giving you hell, as long as we live.” Haley reaches out, pushing gently against his shoulder. He takes the shove like a champ, even through the ache in his chest and abdomen, thankful she’s not treating him like he’s made of glass. 

“Don’t I know it.” 

They look at each other for a minute before Aaron sobers, the mirth evaporating between them. He already misses her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this. I’m hoping it’ll be...temporary.” 

“I do have a life, Aaron. And Jack…” She sighs and her eyes fill with tears again. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish there was another way to keep you safe, but -” He cuts himself off, knowing there’s nothing he can say. 

She swallows again. She already misses him. “How am I supposed to keep him safe when there’s nobody I know to help me?”

He sighs, but speaks with conviction. “Haley, you’re strong. You lived with me in this job and you’ve practically raised Jack all by yourself. You’re a great mother.” 

Haley’s actively crying now, trying to stem the tears with her fingers. It’s not working. After a moment, she collects herself. “Can you catch this man?”

“I will catch this man.”

+++

When she leaves Aaron’s room, you bring Jack to her. You take a moment to lightly fuss over them both. 

Her blue eyes find yours. “Take care of him, please?”

You nod. “I will.” 

“He needs you.” 

She says it with a simple kind of conviction that makes your chest pull. You put a hand on her shoulder, trying to communicate everything you can’t say into your touch. “He needs you more.” 

“No, he doesn’t.” Her lips twist in an odd sort of smile and she wraps you in a hug and kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you soon.” 

You hold her tight, Jack trapped (and whining a little) between you. “See you soon, Hales.” You pull back, looking deeply into her eyes. “We’ll get him.” 

The U.S. Marshals arrive, and you have to let go of each other. You press a kiss to Jack’s forehead and tell him you love him one more time, and wait until they’re in the car and out of sight before you break down. 

You don’t know where he came from, but Derek wraps around you, catching you before your knees hit the ground. You don't know what you’re crying about, really. 

It could be the overwhelming task of catching Foyet.

It could be Hotch in the room down the hall with nine stab wounds to his chest and abdomen. 

It could be the indefinite absence of your dear friend and her son - a boy you love more than anyone except maybe -

Nope. Don’t go there. Not now. 

Sobs wrack your chest, and your head hurts and your throat is sore by the time your body lets you breathe. 

Derek’s there the whole time, rubbing your back and keeping your face hidden in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, kiddo. It’ll be okay. He’s okay. We’re gonna catch this son of a bitch.” 

“It’s just so much, Derek.” 

He sighs. “I know. I know.”

+++

“Did you hear what happened this morning?”

You’re woken by Dave’s voice, coming from the doorway. Cramped and crunched into the corner of an uncomfortable chair, you stretch and what feels like every joint in your body cracks. 

“No.”

When did Aaron wake up? 

You look over at him and he glances at you before returning to Dave, who’s leaning on the door frame. 

“We had a situation. Unsub had already killed two people. Said he was gonna keep killing unless a man used his son as bait.”

“What happened?”

Good question. 

Belatedly, you realize you’ve neglected your case duties all day in favor of holding vigil over Aaron’s bedside. The weirdest part about it? The rest of the team let you. 

Why? 

“We kept the boy safe. Worked the profile. It was a happy ending.” 

That’s good, at least. One fucking happy ending today. 

It’s like Dave’s reading your mind as he asks Aaron, “Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

“Yes.” Aaron’s gaze is impassive, but there are universes behind his eyes. 

“No other group in the world could have pulled off what yours did in a matter of hours.” Dave checks in with you, and the corner of your mouth lifts. 

Sorry. 

He shakes his head just a little. No sweat, kid. You did your job.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Dave, but -”

Dave cuts him off. “We’ll get Foyet.”

“I promised Haley I would get him. But the truth is, if he stops killing we have no way of tracking him. He stopped killing for ten years just for the pleasure of watching Shaunessy’s life fall apart.” 

He’s crying again, and your heart breaks. You’re surprised Dave can’t hear it crack all the way across the room. 

“What’s Jack going to remember about me in ten years?”

No. 

“Hotch, look at me.” You rise from your chair and sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb his position. He turns his head just so, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “We’ll get him. We will get him.”

We have to. 

+++

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[cozy-the-overlord]

Now, Forever, and Always

Summary:  She was perfect—intelligent, entertaining, kind, beautiful... but mortal. Loki was determined not to lose her.

Word Count: 7,031

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: So this idea came from a made-up fic title sent to me by @the-emo-asgardian for an ask game a few weeks ago and has been living rent free in my mind ever since. I don't know why that out of all the nice, happy fic ideas I got out of that game, it was the depressing one I decided I had to write. Oh well. Hope you enjoy!

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask :)

Read it on Ao3!

He knew better.

He hadn’t planned on remaining on Earth for any extended period of time. His forced servitude to the Avengers, his punishment—it was a nuisance that he would have to endure for a bit, but like everything else on the planet, it was temporary. Human lives passed with the beat of a heart. They would not hold him for long. Loki only needed to keep his head down and wait.

He knew better than to get involved with a mortal.

In his defense, it hadn’t been something he could have prepared for. At first glance, Madelyn Robbins was hardly anything remarkable. Her role as Stark’s personal assistant kept her in the periphery, the type of person one didn’t notice was in the room until she stepped forward with the answer to their question mere moments after it left their tongue. She was forgettable, unexceptional, a background figure that you weren’t supposed to notice.

But Loki noticed her.

He noticed her intelligence, how easily she picked up on concepts most mortals could never even begin to understand, how she seemed to remember anything and everything she heard and saw. He noticed her focus, how she was able to filter through the chaos of the Tower and retrieve the information she needed without ever having to raise her voice. And he noticed her boldness.

The first time he spoke with her was a week or two after he had first joined the Avengers, back when it seemed there was not one employee in the whole building with enough backbone to look him in the eye. Loki told himself it was fine with him. It wasn’t as if he was interested in making friends with any of them.  He had been reading in one of the common areas when he noticed her standing over his chair, waiting expectantly.

He frowned. “Pardon?”

Madelyn’s smile didn’t waver. “I said Mr. Stark’s sending me out on a coffee run,” she said, clutching her tablet to her gray blazer. “I was wondering if you wanted anything.”

Loki glared up at her coldly, out of instinct more than anything else. “I do not drink coffee.” He had expected her to cower, but she only laughed.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” she nodded as she turned to leave. “But I just wanted to make sure.” Loki had watched as she made her way across the room to where Thor was talking with two agents he didn’t recognize. He didn’t hear what they said, but her musical laugh carried over his brother’s booming voice. When he turned back to his book, he found himself reading the same page over and over again.

She didn’t ask him for his coffee order again. Loki should have been pleased with that—she got the hint, she wasn’t trying to bother him—but as he watched her make the rounds with the other Avengers, joking together as she balanced the plastic cups on her tray, he felt only disappointment.

He started watching her from afar without really realizing he was doing it: during briefings, in the lab, at Stark’s godforsaken “teambuilding exercises”—she was always there, standing in the background, waiting to jump into action the moment someone needed something. She was quiet, but not a shy sort of quiet—she’d dive into conversation with anyone who gave her the opportunity to do so. No, Madelyn was a professional quiet. Loki found himself wondering what she was like outside the Tower, beyond the boundaries of her employment.

She was notoriously private about her personal life. Stark would tease her about it often, asking her loaded questions everyone knew she wouldn’t answer.

“You don’t mind staying late tonight, do you?” he’d smirk. “You won’t be keeping anyone waiting up, right?”

Loki would have been driven mad by such interrogation, but Madelyn always laughed it off. “I’ll worry about that, Mr. Stark. You just stick to your robots.”

Perhaps this was why it was treated as such a shocking turn of events when Thor announced that he had seen Madelyn’s boyfriend.

“It was in front of the building, on the street. They were embracing.” His brother seemed unreasonably proud to be the one to break the news to everyone. “He was tall, light-haired. Very handsome. I’d say they looked to be very much in love!”

As the others tittered over this gossip, Loki slunk from the room. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Madelyn was clever, kind, attractive—of course she had a lover. What did it matter? It wasn’t as if it affected him. Still, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

What kind of man would she love, he wondered? Someone gentle, probably. Someone who she could sit down and talk to knowing he was genuinely listening. Someone who would respect her choices and trust her decisions. Someone who could make her laugh—Madelyn loved to laugh. It seemed she was always giggling at something someone said, hiding her mouth behind her palm as her eyes sparkled with mirth. It was rather adorable. He had made her laugh before, once when Stark and Rodgers were arguing over some inconsequential thing. Loki didn’t even remember what it was he said; he had just rolled his eyes and made some dry remark, and Madelyn ducked her head into her hands as she chortled. When he turned towards her, she was smiling brightly at him. He found he was smiling too.

It was stupid, but Loki didn’t like the idea of anyone else making her smile like that.

The other Avengers didn’t seem to mind, and to Loki’s chagrin the mystery man remained a hot topic of conversation for the next several months. He couldn’t look at her without Thor’s words bleeding through his ears like poison in his mind: “I’d say they looked to be very much in love!”

Loki was thinking about it the day before New Year’s Eve, when Madelyn joined him in the elevator as he was returning to his rooms with her usual cheerful greeting. He nodded his hello. For a moment, they only stood in silence, but soon enough she turned to him.

“Are you going to Mr. Stark’s party tomorrow?” she asked.

Ah, yes. Stark’s infamous New Year’s celebration. Loki thought that he would prefer the scorching heat of a Muspelheim prison to spending the night with a skyscraper full of drunken mortals who despised his very existence, but Thor had made it clear that he had little choice in the matter.

“I’ve been told that I will be in attendance, whether I like it or not.” Madelyn chuckled, and Loki felt that familiar warmth rising in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Are you going?”

“Yeah, I guess. It would look bad if I didn’t,” she sighed wistfully. “I don’t know, I just always feel like such a loser showing up to these things alone.”

Loki frowned. Surely, attending alone was not her only option. “Your boyfriend is not accompanying you?”

Madelyn cocked her head, giving him a strange look. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said slowly.

For a moment Loki thought he was hearing things. “You don’t?” he repeated.

She shook her head, frowning. “Why did you think that?”

His mind was racing. “Thor—he said he saw you embracing someone in front of the building.”

“What!” she cried. “When?”

He told her the whole story, repeating his brother’s tale practically word for word in bewildered confusion. By the end, she was laughing incredulously.

“That was Dave!” she choked. “My brother-in-law, Dave! I left my purse in my apartment, and I needed my ID to get into the Tower. He was just dropping it off for me. Did everyone think we were a thing? Oh, that’s hilarious!”

She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve as Loki stared in disbelief. For so long, he had buried his thoughts under the belief that she was taken, that even if he allowed himself to want her she could never be his. This revelation seemed unthinkable.

“You’re not seeing anyone?” he asked.

“No!” She was still laughing as she shook her head. “I’ve been single for the past two years.”

“Oh.” Loki swallowed. He knew he should have left it there. She was mortal. She was temporary. Indulging the wild longing in his chest would only lead to more suffering. He knew better.

And yet he didn’t.

“Well, in that case,” Loki inhaled. There was a tremble in his voice—where had that come from?—that he hoped she didn’t notice. “Perhaps you would honor me with your company at the party tomorrow night?”

Madelyn turned back towards him “Are—are you asking me out?”

He burned. “I believe that’s the proper phrase.” This was a terrible idea.

But she didn’t appear to be offended. Rather, she sounded … confused. “Really?” she asked. “I just—I didn’t think you liked anybody here.”

“I like you.” He did, he realized, although it was strange to admit out loud. The simple truth was that the room lit up whenever she entered, and he lit up with it.

“Really?” Madelyn whispered. He nodded. “Well,” she said, a soft smile breaking out across her lips, “I like you too. And I’d love to go with you tomorrow night.”

Something bloomed in his chest, something lovely and wonderful and warm. He loved the way she smiled.

“Excellent,” he said, fighting to keep his elated grin from seeming too over-eager. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

It was scandalous, to be sure, when they walked onto the penthouse floor arm in arm on New Year’s Eve. It seemed the whole room fell quiet for a moment. In the back, Stark nearly choked on his drink.

Madelyn didn’t seem to mind. She pulled him through the hordes of people, the voluminous skirt of her dress swirling around her in an emerald sea. He didn’t know where she had managed to find a gown that so flawlessly matched his colors on such short notice, or how she had even known to look for one in that shade, but it was perfect.

She was perfect.

Stark’s holiday celebrations were always an adventure—they weren’t quite up to par with the unhinged chaos of Asgardian feasts, but they usually were hectic enough to keep Loki looking over his shoulder the entire time, half expecting to find some demon from his past lurking amidst the drunken partygoers. That night though, there was only Madelyn. She pulled him through the madness with the easy assurance of an expert, gliding with him across the dance floor as if they owned it. She knew all the nooks and crannies, all the little alcoves to which they could retreat when they wished to break from the noise to talk.

They talked a lot. She told him about her family, about her mother who went around telling all her brunch friends that her daughter worked alongside the Avengers for a living (“she leaves out the fact that I’m basically a glorified intern”), about her older sister who gave up her dreams of Hollywood to settle down with her high school sweetheart.

“He’s the one who dropped off your purse?” Loki interrupted as they sat at a bench against the wall on the balcony, overlooking the festivities below.

Madelyn laughed. “Yeah, Dave. He is a sweetheart.” She shook her head, still chuckling. “I can’t believe you guys thought he was my boyfriend. That’s so funny to me.”

“Well, my brother does have a tendency to jump to conclusions,” Loki sighed, watching Thor and his crowd of inebriated fools attempting to take shots off of Mjolnir’s handle. He turned back to his lady. “But you can’t place all the blame on him. We all knew next to nothing about your personal life. How was he to know better?”

“True,” she mused. “I like to keep an air of mystery at work. It keeps people interested.”

“Oh?” Loki raised his eyebrows. “If that’s the case, then why have you dropped the mystery with me?”

She scowled at him with mock outrage. “Am I not interesting enough for you, Asgardian?”

Laughing, he pulled back on to the dance floor.

It was fitting that the party marked the beginning of the New Year, because afterwards everything changed. It had been a while since Loki had courted anyone, and of course Midgardian “dating” was a bit different, but it brough a levity to his life that he hadn’t realized he needed. On the surface, it didn’t even seem that drastic a shift. Sometimes, it was as simple as a glance from her across a crowded room, that warm smile meant just for him, and suddenly the whole world lit up. Stark groaned that the two of them making heart eyes at each other all day made him sick, but Loki couldn’t care less. For once, life didn’t seem quite so wretched.

At first, they only spent time together within the Tower—after all, Loki was confined to SHIELD’s surveillance. He was rather ashamed of it, ashamed that he wasn’t able to take her out and show her a good time the way she deserved, but Madelyn insisted that she didn’t mind. She’d pick up sandwiches at a bakery down the street and they’d have dinner in his rooms while watching a movie.

He had to laugh—Madelyn had a list of film she claimed were a critical part of Midgardian culture that he just had to see, but inevitably they’d turn it on and spend the entire time talking over it about a subject only tangentially related. He didn’t mind though, and Madelyn didn’t seem to either—she’d rest her head on his shoulder and tell him all the differences between the film and the book which it was inspired by, and he’d wrap his arm around her shoulder and hang on to every word.

The first time she stayed the night had actually been an accident. It seemed that they both had miscalculated how tired they were after a week of wild missions and had fallen asleep together whilst cuddling on the couch. Loki woke up with the gentle pressure of her head on his chest and the warmth of her in his arms. He was smiling before he was even fully awake.

After a while, he began finding ways to sneak out of the Tower and meet her elsewhere. Her tiny apartment became the center of his world. He’d meet her for coffee or for dinner or just for a walk, and she’d take him home with her, so often that she stopped asking him if he wanted to come in. It was a peaceful kind of domestic that Loki had never thought to dream about. Madelyn was perfect—intelligent, entertaining, kind, beautiful, everything he could ever want. Sometimes, he almost forgot that she wasn’t Asgardian.

Her mortality would rear its head in other ways, though. One day, she tripped walking down the stairs as they were leaving her apartment building, tumbling to the ground before Loki could catch her. It wasn’t a bad fall, and Madelyn had scrambled back to her feet in seconds insisting she was fine, but her ankle had swollen up almost immediately. When she tried to take another step, she almost fell over again.

This time, Loki scooped her up into his arms. “Fragile little thing,” he teased, carrying her down the steps to a nearby bench.

They had laughed about it, but a week later Madelyn was still walking with a limp.

One night, he awoke with a start, sweating and shaking and gasping for air as Madelyn hovered over him anxiously.

“It’s a dream!” she was crying. “Loki, it’s not real!”

The bed was too hot. Loki ripped himself from the covers, hunching over the side as he struggled to catch his breath. Madelyn followed, rubbing his back soothingly as he fought to control the trembling in his hands. For a moment, the room was silent but for his labored breathing.

“Are you okay?” she finally whispered.

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“You were crying in your sleep.”

Must have woken her up then. He tried to swallow, but his mouth tasted like sandpaper. “I’m sorry.”

Madelyn shook her head. “No, it’s fine! I was just worried.” She squeezed his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Loki inhaled. “It was just a dream. No matter.” Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes on him, studying him in concern. When he moved to lie back down, she laid next to him, a protective arm around his torso.

“You’re safe here, okay?” she whispered. “Nothing can happen to us here.” Loki didn’t answer, only staring at the ceiling.

For once, it hadn’t been about him.

No, he had dreamed of Madelyn, stiff in a hospital bed, her cheeks hollowed and gaunt, her once vibrant hair now a thinned and faded halo on the pillow beneath her head. Her wrinkled skin sagged with the weight of infirmity. Her clasped hands rose and fell with her chest as the death rattle stained her wilted lips.

Loki tried to forget about it, but the image was seared into his memory. He couldn’t look at Madelyn without picturing her face caving into a haggard old woman choking on her last breath. It would happen soon, he realized, horrifically soon. Mortals had a hundred years if they were lucky, less if they weren’t. He spent sleepless nights lying awake in bed, listening to Madelyn’s steady breathing in the dark. 100 years—that was nothing. That was a blink of an eye, a beat of his heart, and then she’d be gone.

He couldn’t bear to think of it.

There was a story, he remembered suddenly on one such torturous night, a story his mother used to tell to him and his brother when they were small, about a goddess with magical apples that could grant immortality to those who tasted them. It was probably nothing, just a childish bedtime tale, but once it flitted into his mind Loki couldn’t get it out. After all, didn’t most legends have some basis in fact?

It was a myth on Midgard, too. He found it within moments when he looked it up—the story of Idunn’s apples. Of course, that didn’t mean anything. The human versions of Asgardian history had a tendency to be quite muddled. But … it was an idea. There had to be something, some way to extend a mortal lifespan. Without telling anyone, Loki began devoting his free time to research.

They had been together for several months when Loki decided to take Madelyn to Asgard for the first time. Frigga had extended her invitation to her a bit prior, but accepting hadn’t been an easy decision. He had watched Thor take Jane home many times over since he began his stint with the Avengers. He had seen firsthand how Asgardians looked upon mortals in their midst, even when the mortal in question were on the arm of their golden prince. He couldn’t imagine that Madelyn could expect any better treatment— in fact, given his reputation, it seemed safe to assume that she could expect worse. 

But in the end, they decided to go. Madelyn was excited—her first time traveling off world— and Loki was eager to introduce her to his mother, who he knew would just absolutely adore her.

Secretly, he was also hoping that she would be able to help him with granting Madelyn immortality.

His mortal lover was a bit overwhelmed at first by their trip to the Golden City. 

“I think I’m going to be sick” she whispered, clutching his wrist so tightly it almost hurt as they stepped off the Bifrost, and for a moment Loki feared that the visit had been a mistake. But she recovered quickly, and soon curiosity bubbled over her anxiety.

“What’s this made of?” she asked, wide eyes staring at the bridge beneath their feet as he helped her mount his horse. “Is it some kind of crystal? How does it work?” He couldn’t help but laugh as he climbed on behind her, pressing a kiss to her neck before spurring on his stead.

As to be expected, his mother took Madelyn under her wing immediately, greeting her with an embrace before swooping her away to help her unpack and dress for dinner. 

Unfortunately, she was less helpful when Loki approached her later about his search.

“Oh Loki,” she sighed when he asked if she knew of any way to extend a human lifespan. “That’s the quandary of becoming entangled with mortals. Their lives are fleeting. You have to be able to accept that.”

No. Loki shook his head fiercely. “There must be some way,” he insisted. “The stories you’d tell us as children, Idunn’s apples—“

“Those were stories, my son.” He hated the pity in her eyes as she studied him. “She is mortal. She will grow old, and she will die. It’s the way of things.” Frigga took his hand in hers. “Enjoy the time you have with her. Don’t waste her life trying to save it.”

He ripped his arm from her. “That’s not good enough!”

She inhaled, holding the bridge of her nose. “You could ask your father,” she finally offered. “He may know something I don’t.”

Loki huffed in resignation.

When he brought forth his question before the AllFather, he had known Odin would never take it seriously. Still, he found himself tasting blood as his father’s ragged laughter echoed across the empty throne room. 

“Is this the reason why you brought her here, then?” he asked. “You seek a cure for inferiority?”

“I seek to expand my lady’s lifespan,” he said, struggling to maintain his even tone. “She has no inferiority to cure.”

“Your lady,” he mocked. “Your lady, who you might snap in half with a wayward flick of your wrist. Would you not call that inferiority?”

Loki held his tongue. Try as he might to ignore it, there was truth to Odin’s words and he hated him for it.

“I seek to expand her lifespan,” he repeated. “Do you know of any method do do so?”

His father raised his eyebrows. “Unlike my sons, I’m not in the habit of keeping mortal pets.”

Loki seethed. “She is not a pet!”

“Your time on Midgard has made you as childish as your brother.” Odin shook his head, leaning back in his golden throne. “The mortal’s life is fleeting, insignificant. You would waste your time and mine trying to raise a dog to godhood.”

“She’s not a dog!” he snapped. “She’s not a dog, she’s not a pet, she’s my love and her name is Madelyn.”

“And in a century, she’ll be dust!” the king retorted. “Will it matter then what name marks her headstone?”

Loki stormed out. 

It was pathetic, pathetic, that his father’s words still cut him so deeply, that his inconsequential views could still send him running with tears burning in his eyes like a slighted child. He stomped through the palace halls with no real destination in mind, heaving like some kind of animal. 

He’d show him. He’d show them both. He’d find a way to save her. Somehow, he’d find a way to make her immortal, and then they’d see. They’d see.

He was shaking uncontrollably by the time he found Madelyn in the gardens, gathered in the middle of the brick pathways with Frigga and several of her ladies. It was strange— swathed in an Asgardian gown, with her hair done up in the latest fashion, one would never have known she was of Midgard. 

She turned as Loki approached, her eyes lighting up as they always did whenever they landed on his. However, her gaze turned to a frown as he got closer.

“Loki, what’s wro—“ he planted his lips on hers before she could finish, cradling her face in his palms as he drank in her smell. Madelyn stiffened at first, but in moments she had melted into the kiss even as the court ladies tittered around them. 

When they finally pulled away, she let out a flustered giggle. “What was that for?”

He studied her face, her sparkling eyes that seemed to hold whole galaxies, entranced. “I love you.”

Loki had never said the words before, not to her or any other woman, and yet they flowed from his lips as easily as a downhill stream. Madelyn’s breath hitched.

“What?” she breathed. 

“I love you,” he repeated, his heart glowing with all the confidence in the universe, and he kissed her again.

When they returned to Earth, Loki threw himself back into his research with a new ferocity. He scoured the history of the Nine Realms, seeking just the slightest hint that what he was searching for existed. The myth of Idunn’s apples was a recurring subject, and he tried frantically to trace it to reality, but unfortunately, his mother’s assertion that it was naught but a child’s bedtime story appeared to be true. He couldn’t find any proof of them actually existing. Still, he spent nights at his desk, hunched over the scrolls Frigga sent him from the palace library, praying for something that continued to elude him.

Madelyn, unconcerned with her impending mortality, fretted he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

“Just come to bed,” she pleaded with him one night. “Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t need as much rest as you do, love. I think I’ll be fine.”

“But you stay up all night, and then they send you into the field in the morning!” she insisted, rubbing his shoulder. “That can’t be safe.”

He covered her hand with his own, gently stroking her knuckles. It never ceased to amaze him how soft her skin was. “You don’t need to worry about me, darling.”

But Madelyn was right, as always. He wasn’t getting enough sleep at night, and it was beginning to affect his reflexes. It was only a matter of time before it all came to a head.

In Loki’s defense, it wasn’t entirely his fault. The mission had been flawed to begin with, everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong, and Loki had ended up trapped in an underground Hydra base with no backup, no escape plan, and hordes of enemy agents closing in. Still, it was manageable—far from ideal, but manageable— until he miscalculated a dagger throw and hit one of their Tesseract-powered devices.

Shit—

He felt the blast more than he saw it, felt the burst of scorching heat that flooded the hall and ripped the air from his lungs. His vision burned bright white.

Huh, he remembered thinking, perhaps Madelyn and I will have closer lifespans after all.

She was the first thing he saw when he awoke, head buzzing and limbs too leaden to move. He opened his aching eyes and she was there, glowing in the light of the hospital room, his guardian angel watching over him through the night. When he croaked her name, her eyes swam with relief. She reached out to stroke his cheek, the chill of her fingers soothing against his feverish skin. He melted against her touch. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

“Madelyn,” he gasped. “Madelyn, marry me.”

He passed out before he could hear her answer.

They were wed on Alfheim, atop a picturesque cove overlooking the gardens of Ljosalfgard. Madelyn was absolutely radiant, her silver gown bathing her in a pearly glow as she practically sang her vows to him. Loki drowned in her eyes, drowned in the desire to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until they were both out of breath. He could have almost ignored the vow "til death do us part" had it not been for the pitied glance the Elvish officiants exchanged as she said them.

"I'm going to find a way to save you," he whispered against her hair that night as he held her to his bare chest.

Madelyn shifted, craning her neck so that she could fix him with a frown. "What are you talking about?"

A wayward strand of hair clung to her forehead. Loki pushed it away absentmindedly.

"Death will not part us, my love. I swear it."

She sighed. "Don't think about stuff like that. Not tonight." She leaned back against him, covering his hand with hers as she drifted off to sleep.

Loki didn't say anything.

Stark bought them a house in Upstate New York as a wedding present—a sweet, cozy little place not too far away from the new Avengers base. It was quiet, secluded, peaceful, everything he could have ever asked for.

If only he hadn’t known it was temporary.

Madelyn didn’t understand. She’d get up in the morning to find Loki pouring over his scrolls at the kitchen table, having never come to bed at all, and scold him for not taking better care of himself.

“This is ridiculous!” she snapped. “You’re going to kill yourself over this wild goose chase!”

“I have to!” he insisted. “I have to find a way to save you!”

She sighed. “You don’t need to save me.” Kneeling besides him, she took his face in her hands. “Don’t you see? I don’t care how long my life is, as long as I get to spend it with you.” Loki closed his eyes as he leaned into her palm, covering the back of her hand with his own. It was so simple for her. She didn’t understand how the image of her decaying features haunted his every waking moment.

They had been husband and wife for quite some time when he finally found something—a lead that might have the capability to save her from her ephemerality. Loki was ecstatic, more hopeful than he had been in years as he prepared to make the journey across the galaxy. Madelyn was less so.

“Look,” she worried as she watched race about the house packing a bag. “I’m glad that you’re so happy, but is this really worth the trip?”

“How could it not be?” he asked. “Once I return, you will finally be immortal, as you deserve. We will be able to live out our lives together forever.” Loki glanced up at her. “Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I want that, Loki!” Madelyn cried. “But more than that, I want you, here, safe. You don’t know what you’re walking into. You can’t even know how long you’ll be gone! What if something happens to you?”

He laughed softly. “You need not fear for me, my love. I will always return to you.”

Still, she remained unsoothed. “Please,” she said. “If you have to go, let me come with you. We’ll stay together!”

“No. It’s far too dangerous for you.” The very thought sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ll not allow the Norns to take you from me as I attempt to save you.”

“Loki …”

“Darling.” He kissed her, relishing the way she melted against him. “All will be well. I swear it.”

But all was not well. Months of searching in the very corners of deep space brought him nowhere, his false hopes dashed across the barren landscape of the planet her salvation. The scrolls had been wrong. There was nothing.

At first, Loki stayed out there, still frantically searching for something that could save her. He had promised, sworn, to her that he would find a way. He couldn’t return home empty handed. And so for a while longer he remained on the edges of space, traveling from planet to remote planet as he fought to find even the slightest hint of the solution he sought. But the time away weighed heavily on his soul. He missed Madelyn—he missed the curve of her smile, the melody of her laugh, the way she never seemed to tire of listening to what he had to say. He missed waking up to the comforting pressure of her head on his chest. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had barely made it up the driveway before Madelyn had thrown her arms around him, clinging him so tightly that he almost couldn’t breathe even as her tiny body shook with her tears. Loki tugged her closer, burying his face in her neck. She smelled like home.

Still, something held him from smiling when they finally pulled away.

“I failed,” he whispered, hanging his head. “I failed you, Madelyn.”

She shook her head, cupping his face with her hands. “You’re back,” she said sternly, “You’re back and you’re safe and that’s all I will ever care about.”

Loki hadn’t realized how long he had been gone until he returned. Madelyn was the same gorgeous creature he had always known, but he began to pick up on miniscule differences within her. She was thinner, her face more worn than when he remembered. He found himself repeating the same tales to her over and over again—she’d ask him questions about his journey, he would answer them, they’d talk about his answers until she was satisfied … and then she’d ask the same question a few days later as if she had never spoken it before. It frightened him.

At first, he would point it out to her, his fear manifesting in frustrated questions: “Didn’t I already tell you all this?” But he hated the way she flinched, how her face would fall as she murmured apologetically that she must have forgotten. He hated feeling as if he was causing her pain. So, Loki repeated his anecdotes and kept his worries to himself.

He feared for her physical health as well. Her hands had become stiff and swollen since he had seen her last, painful to the point that she now took prescribed medication to help her cope. On some days, it seemed hardly noticeable, but on others she could barely bend her fingers. Still, Madelyn insisted that it was fine.

“It’s no big deal,” she told him. “My mom had arthritis, I knew I was probably going to get it eventually.” With a dry laugh, she added, “I’m probably lucky—she always had it much worse than this.”

Madelyn’s mother had passed away while he was gone, the victim of the horrible human disease known as cancer. Madelyn didn’t speak much about it, not even to him. Loki felt guilty—he had unknowingly her left alone and without support in a time when she had probably needed it the most. He was also increasingly anxious—if Madelyn had already inherited one disease from her mother, who’s to say she wouldn’t also develop the far more deadly one? Loki found himself returning to his research.

It wasn’t until he started on the texts Thor had gifted him from his own travels that he thought he found something. A necklace of myth, purported to be held deep within the twisted forests of Terma, enchanted to bring eternal life to those who wear it about their neck. Loki arranged to leave for it immediately.

 However, his wife put her foot down. “You’re not going again.”

Loki sighed. “I have to. Madelyn, there’s a chance that this could work—”

“That’s what you said last time!”

“I know. But I have to try.”

“Why?” she demanded, tone verging on hysterical.

He turned around incredulously. Why? “Because I love you!”

“No you don’t!” The walls rattled with the weight of her words. It was only then that Loki realized his wife was crying. His eyes widened in horror. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t keep leaving.” Her voice cracked, her breath coming in unsteady hiccups. “You were gone for so long. I didn’t know if you were okay, or if you were coming back—I was so scared—”

Loki pulled her into his arms, where she sobbed freely against his chest. It was as if someone had stuck a dagger in his gut. Everything he had done, every action he had taken—it had all been for Madelyn. That’s all he ever wanted, to protect Madelyn! And yet, it seemed he had caused her more pain than the forces of nature he sought to protect her from.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair as he held her to his chest. His vision prickled with tears of his own. “I won’t leave again, I promise. I’m so sorry, my love.”

He resolved to be strong. He would not think of what the future held; he would keep his mind in the here and now, safe and warm with his perfect wife at his side. And so he did, for a time. He’d read poetry to her out loud as she rested her head on his lap, telling himself that he was only imagining that the creases in her face seemed to be deepening with every passing day. Some nights, they’d join the others for dinner at the Avengers base, where the conversation would inevitably devolve into Barton and Stark arguing over who had the more accomplished grandchildren and Madelyn would doze off against his shoulder on the way home. There was a steady sort of domesticity to it, and Loki enjoyed it—he enjoyed every moment with her—but he could only ignore time’s dark specter for so long.

It reared its ugly head in the form of a bottle under the sink. When Loki had first found it, he had only been confused, but when he presented it to Madelyn, she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“It’s hair dye,” she finally admitted. “I’ve been using it for a few years now.”

Loki didn’t understand. “What are you talking about? Your hair color hasn’t changed.”

Her laugh was soft and tinged with sadness. “I went gray a while ago, sweetheart. I’ve been dying it my natural color.”

It was as if someone had ripped the air from his lungs. “Wh—” A few years? He gulped. “Why would you do that?”

“I—” Madelyn seemed ashamed. “I was afraid it would upset you. You’ve always been so worried about me, you know—” she inhaled sharply. “I was afraid you’d leave again.”

The heartbreak in her voice was killing him.

“I’m not going anywhere, darling,” he assured her, reaching out to pull her closer. “I promised, remember?”

She nodded, resting her cheek against his chest. “I do remember that, at least.” Loki laughed as he held her close, but inwardly his mind was racing.

He was running out of time.

This time, when he returned to his research, he did so in secret. Madelyn was suffering enough—he didn’t want to contribute to her pain. At one point, keeping her in the dark about his activities would have been difficult, back when she caught every little shift in his personality, but these days she didn’t seem to notice as much. Still, Loki couldn’t spend whole nights at his work the way he used to. Madelyn slept lightly, often waking up in the darkness to a fit of hacking and gasping for air. He’d be at her side in a second, glass of water in hand and notes abandoned.

“Sorry … for waking you up,” she’d wheeze. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” he’d choke.

But one night, she caught him. It was chillier than usual, and he had moved from his desk to the living room and the fireplace. The crackling of the flames masked the padding of her feet down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

He jumped. Madelyn was standing in the hallway, wrapped in a blanket and leaning against the doorframe for support. Her eyes seemed to glow in the light of the fire.

“I—” He didn’t know how to respond. Perhaps that was enough of a response. She sighed, hobbling forward on unsteady legs. Loki rushed forward to support her. “Darling, you shouldn’t be up.”

“No.” She gripped his wrist, nodding towards the couch. “Sit with me. Hold me.” Her expression left no room for argument. He wasn’t certain he wanted to argue with her anyway. Loki scooped her up into his arms and carried her across the room, surprised by how little effort it took him. Madelyn had always been light, but it seemed she had become even more so since he had last picked her up. He found himself thinking about the first time he had carried her, when she twisted her ankle on the steps of her apartment. It felt like just yesterday that he had held her in his arms as he teased her for her mortal fragility. For Madelyn, he realized with a start, it had been a lifetime ago.

He sat on the couch before the fire, still holding her in his lap. She fixed him with a stern glare.

“You said you were done with this.”

As words failed him, Loki let out a pained breath. “It’s you,” he whispered finally. “I can’t—I can’t just give up on you.”

“It’s not giving up.” She reached out to stroke his cheek with wrinkled fingers. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Loki, I’m old. I’m going to die, soon rather than later. That’s not something anybody can change. Not even you.”

He wished he could accuse her of lying, that he could stand up and prove how she was wrong, how he could stop time’s work. Instead, tears blurred his vision when he opened his eyes. “I can’t lose you.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re not losing me! I’m right here. With you. Now, forever, and always.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, leaning her head against his. “I love you, Loki.”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “I love you too. So much.”

The fire had gone out when he awoke in the morning. She was still in his lap, at rest and peaceful.

“Madelyn?”

She didn’t move.

Loki brushed his fingers across her cheek. Her skin was cold.

His voice broke. “Madelyn.”

But Madelyn only lay against him, still and silent and perfect as could be.

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Three

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Three: Rival Musicians

Adrien received the shock of his life when he went up on deck to find Luka and Xavier-Yves Roth hanging out in the upstairs living room.

He froze in the doorway, trying to comprehend what was going on.

The last thing that Adrien knew, XY had stolen Kitty Section’s music and look and had tried to pass them off as his own. Seeing as this had ended in Luka’s akumatization, Adrien didn’t think that Luka was on speaking terms with the slightly older popstar.

…And yet, Luka and XY were lounging on the couch together, laughing as XY recounted some inane story about trying to find proper American varieties of cheese (like Velveeta and the eponymous “American Cheese”) in France.

“You do realize that those are crimes against the word ‘cheese’, don’t you?” Luka snickered, slumping back in exhaustion from laughing so hard.

XY turned, hooking his arm over the back of the couch. “You only say that because you haven’t had Velveeta before,” he scoffed with a playful smirk.

The bottom dropped out of Adrien’s stomach as XY leaned into Luka’s space and Luka didn’t so much as bat an eye.

“Next time I have you over, Six Strings, I’m gonna make nachos,” XY announced. “Then, you’ll see.”

Luka snorted, shaking his head fondly at XY’s antics. “You’d have to pay me to eat that.”

“Done and done,” Xavier-Yves crowed. “That new amp you’ve been eyeing is yours, and I’ll still let you eat as many nachos as you want.”

Luka cursed, giving XY’s arm a halfhearted shove. “That is completely unfair.”

“Serves you right for having a type,” XY preened.

Luka looked away and crossed his arms, blushing furiously as he sulked, “I do not have a type.”

XY rolled his eyes as he infringed even more on Luka’s personal space, teasing, “You totally have a type.”

Luka turned his head to rebuff Xavier-Yves’s claim only to stop short when he realized how close their faces were.

It felt like someone had punched through Adrien’s chest and now had their fist wrapped tightly around Adrien’s heart, squeezing it mercilessly.

He contemplated coming out of hiding and interrupting them.

Thankfully, XY’s phone did the dirty work for Adrien.

“Crap,” Xavier-Yves hissed, looking down at the caller ID. “It’s my dad. I’ve gotta go.”

“Text me later so we can figure out when you’re making nachos for me,” Luka instructed, bumping XY’s shoulder with his own.

XY quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Luka snickered. “I want that amp.”

XY rolled his eyes and punched Luka’s arm. “I’ll text you as soon as Dad’s done with me. It might be late.”

Luka shrugged. “Since when do I sleep?”

Xavier-Yves shook his head, grabbing his laptop off of the coffee table and getting up to go. “Check ya later.”

“Later,” Luka echoed, waving.

Adrien waited until the other blonde was out of sight before making his presence known. “Was that XY Roth just now?”

Luka jumped. “Oh. Hey. Adrien. Yeah, Xavier-Yves is a friend.”

Adrien arched an eyebrow as he took a seat on the couch next to Luka. “Really? When did that happen? I thought he was your nemesis or something after he and his dad stole your music.”

Luka burst out laughing.

At Adrien’s slightly hurt look, Luka rushed to explain, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry. It’s just…that was almost five years ago. It seems like a different lifetime.”

Adrien chuckled bitterly, looking away. “Hn. Yeah.”

Luka winced. “Sorry.”

Adrien shook his head. “Don’t worry about it…. So…you and XY?”

“He showed up here one day about six months after The Incident, and he wanted me to show him how to love music,” Luka explained.

Adrien’s head whipped around, a look of befuddlement on his face. “He did what now?”

Luka shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe you’ve noticed, but his father, Bob Roth, is kind of an abusive, manipulative jerk. He treats Xavier-Yves really poorly, but Xavier-Yves isn’t willing to break things off because he loves his father.”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably at the pang of recognition he felt for XY’s family situation.

“Xavier-Yves used to do music because it was what his father wanted, and he wanted to make his father proud and happy. He didn’t used to love music himself,” Luka continued. “So, he showed up here, and he asked me to teach him how to love music…so I did.”

Adrien nodded. “You’re really amazing to be able to forgive and help someone who wronged you like that.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Luka snickered. “He’s kind of obnoxious until you get inoculated. For about a month, I wanted to slap him…but then I really got to know him…and now we’re friends.”

“Just friends?” Adrien pressed, even though he suspected the answer would hurt.

Luka’s brow scrunched together into a deep “v” of confusion. “Yes?”

“But you like him,” Adrien rebutted, gaze locked on a knot in the floorboard. “And he likes you.”

“No, no, no,” Luka laughed at the very idea. “No. Adrien, nothing romantic is going on between me and Xavier-Yves.”

Adrien took a chance and looked up, meeting Luka’s gaze. “But you two were flirting. He was all in your space, and you didn’t look like you minded at all. And wasn’t he about to kiss you at the end before his phone rang?”

Luka’s cheeks coloured in embarrassment as he scrubbed at his face with both hands. “Oh my gosh, no. That wasn’t… Adrien, you flirt with Nino, don’t you?”

Adrien blinked speechlessly as he considered this new evidence. “…I mean…yeah.”

“And you and Nino snuggle and get all in each other’s space, right?” Luka added, buttressing up his arguments.

“Yes,” Adrien admitted.

“Okay,” Luka sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So, think of it like that.”

Adrien bit his lip and considered. “…I mean…if you say so.”

Luka broke out in a startled laugh. “Someone doesn’t sound convinced…. Adrien…are you jealous?”

It was Adrien’s turn to blush as he asked, “Why would I be jealous?”

He mentally kicked himself because he knew he had no right to be jealous.

Just because Luka had been kind to him when Adrien was feeling vulnerable and taken care of him when Adrien couldn’t take care of himself, that didn’t give him the right to be possessive. He didn’t have a monopoly on Luka’s time or kindness or affections.

Luka deflated a little. “Right. Sorry. Stupid question. You’re right. There’s no reason for you to be jealous…. Xavier-Yves really is just a friend, though. We hang out, jam a little, watch dumb movies, talk…just as friends. Just like you and I do.”

Adrien nodded, still not persuaded.

Maybe Luka thought that there was nothing there, but Adrien had been oblivious to his own feelings too many times to take Luka at his word. There was definitely a spark between Luka and XY, whether Luka was aware of it or not.

“What did he mean when he said you have a type?” Adrien looked back at Luka.

This time it was Luka who looked away. “Oh. You know. He thinks I have a thing for blondes.”

More specifically, rich, pretty, sheltered blondes with daddy issues, but Luka would literally die before admitting that to Adrien because Xavier-Yves wasn’t wrong, and Luka would be a fool to risk messing up his friendship with Adrien by confessing his longstanding crush on him now.

Adrien’s brow crumpled into a frown. “But Marinette isn’t blonde.”

“Precisely,” Luka agreed, leaving out the fact that it was blonde men he had a thing for. “Thank you. So, you can just ignore Xavier-Yves because he’s, honestly, a total idiot.”

Adrien hummed thoughtfully, leaning back into the couch cushions. “He seems nice. You should introduce us. Maybe we can be friends.”

It would be good to get to know the competition, and, that way, he could perhaps monitor the evolving romantic situation between XY and Luka.

“Uh…sure,” Luka tentatively agreed, not certain that he wanted different parts of his life merging like that.

He mentally smacked himself because how selfish was he to deny Adrien the opportunity to make more friends? It was going to be hard on Adrien going forward, now that people primarily recognized him as “Papillon’s son”. Luka needed to put his own wants aside to be there for Adrien.

After all, he’d promised.

[satendou]

uwu my queen,, my light, my goddess of all things- may i pls request some how they  met/relationship headcanons for suga/reader/akaashi? u don’t need to add smut if u don’t wanna but if u do pls know that i’ll do anything for u (jk id already do anything for u) hemingway ilu and please remember to drink water especially since i know that ur extra extra thirsty ;) 

thank you woml @keijiskitten​ for the self indulgent poly req sksks so bc you love my florist!akaashi au and so do i, he’s a florist in this too! i’m taking hella liberties with reader too fight me.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶  

↠  requests open | rules

↠ includes: akaashi and sugawara

❀ུ۪   so suga and akaashi meet again when suga goes into his shop to buy congratulatory flowers for one of his coworkers who just had a baby. all of the teachers pitched in for a bouquet and he was recommended akaashi’s flower shop. ❀ུ۪   of course they recognize each other and start chatting about volleyball and how the other team members are doing. amidst chatting about what they’re doing now, they trade numbers and agree to meet up at x time on x day at akaashi’s favorite coffee shop. ❀ུ۪   enter you, a barista at said shop. you know akaashi’s order by heart and as soon as he walks in, are already making it. but you’re surprised to see his pretty new grey haired friend. he’s soft spoken and gentle, and your heart skips a whole beat standing before the two pretty men.

❀ུ۪   suga asks about you, continually glancing at the counter to find you staring back at him, and something in akaashi flares up. he recognizes it as jealousy, but what’s confusing is that it isn’t aimed solely at suga. not that it would be fair anyway, he’s never worked up the nerve to ask for your number or anything. ❀ུ۪   they start meeting up regularly, and you can never guess suga’s order because he bounces between coffee in the morning and tea in the evening, never the same-- sometimes it’s just an espresso, sometimes iced coffee, sometimes soothing chamomile, or sometimes just black. ❀ུ۪   behind the scenes, the friendship that blooms between them is based on quiet nights in, chatting about highschool at first then segueing into what they did during college and so on, and they’re more than capable of getting rowdy but after a long day at work, they just want to relax. ❀ུ۪   the attraction is there right off the bat-- how could it not be? look at them, come on-- and the feelings follow soon after when suga shows up at akaashi’s apartment unannounced with takeout and a fresh cup of his favorite tea in a to-go cup, a little message from you written on the receipt. and when suga comes down with the flu, courtesy of the children he takes care of throughout the day, akaashi takes it upon himself to check up on him throughout the week, making sure he’s cared for regardless of the risk. ❀ུ۪   maybe he falls asleep on suga’s couch more than once, maybe he doesn’t. ❀ུ۪   at some point, suga asks for your number and akaashi asks as well. both men are blushing as you hand it to them and your instant thought is oh no because you’ve come to like them both and if the looks on their faces is anything to go by, they both like you too. ❀ུ۪   cue some slight panic on all your parts. ❀ུ۪   of course they sit down and talk it out because they’re both rational adults and it naturally comes down to who would get to ask you out. akaashi concedes mostly because he “had his chance” before suga came along. suga is a little hesitant because his feelings for akaashi friendship with akaashi is important so while he does* ask you on a date there’s a lingering feeling of guilt. ❀ུ۪   and then at the end of said date he walks you home and you tell him you had a lot* of fun but confess that you like akaashi as well and are too confused right now and don’t want to lead him on. it’s like a weight was lifted off his shoulders and he tentatively confesses that he likes akaashi as well and he’s never seen someone’s eyes go so wide. ❀ུ۪   akaashi’s face when he comes into the coffee shop the next day at an invitation from suga is priceless because you’re sitting next to him at their usual table instead of behind the counter like normal. he’s positive you’re going to let him down easy and tell him the two of you’ve decided to date, and he’s already preparing to tell you how happy he is for the two of you. ❀ུ۪   “so, we have a confession--” ❀ུ۪   he cuts suga off, saying, “i’m really happy for the two of you,” and is then confused when you giggle and give him an exasperated look. ❀ུ۪   “we did go on a date and will again,” you said, holding your finger up when he goes to interrupt you again. “but we’d really like it if you went with us. if you want.” ❀ུ۪   akaashi is Confused™ and looking between the two of you waiting for an explanation, and suga picks up by explaining the conversation last night. of course, there’s some trepidation because akaashi hasn’t been overt about his feelings for suga, but the friday nights spent at their houses, watching their friends volleyball games has given suga at least some indication, so he’s pretty secure. ❀ུ۪   mostly. ❀ུ۪   the relief on akaashi’s face is adorable and the smile he gives you is bright. he agrees and, since you’re already together, you decide to go on your first official date. it isn’t too special, going to the botanical garden in the park because you and suga have been curious for a while and, well, who better to go with than a florist? ❀ུ۪   he spends a lot of time telling you about all the flowers and their meanings and suga has a surprising amount of knowledge as well, just because he’s a teacher and from spending time with akaashi. you get dinner together and talk a little more about how this might work before deciding to just let it be. ❀ུ۪   there’s not a lot of jealousy between the three of you because you’re always together. they show up at the coffee shop after your shift ends-- if they can, it depends-- and you’ll go get dinner together. or if your shift is at a strange time, they’ll still stop by and spend a bit of time before going home. ❀ུ۪   you also twist akaashi’s arm-- you don’t have to twist very hard, mind you-- into showing you how to make the bouquets he’s so well known for. after the shop closes, he helps you pick out the flowers for the bouquets you want to make and spend a few hours together in the little workshop in the back of the store. it’s how he confesses his love to you, actually. he won’t tell you what his flowers mean, teasing that you’ll just have to look it up, so suga picks up the book on the counter while akaashi conveniently goes to attend to something in the main area and after pouring over the book, you both turn bright red before tackling him in hugs. ❀ུ۪   sometimes, after the three of you start spending the nights together, suga ends up staying up late to grade papers. akaashi is naturally a night owl, so it’s no surprise he stays up to help him on those nights. he supplies the coffee, and there’s quiet conversation between the two of them about whatever. sometimes you join them, sometimes you go to bed, and sometimes you fall asleep on the couch waiting for them, and one of them will carry you to bed. ❀ུ۪   being with them is pretty easy. they’re both good at communicating so, so long as you remember to tell them when something is wrong, it’s rare to have an actual fight. there are the usual temper flare ups and tiffs that come with long nights or bad days or when someone says the wrong thing, of course, but actual arguments aren’t common. ❀ུ۪   so when it comes around that it’s been almost a year of being together, it’s kind of a surprise. ❀ུ۪   “our anniversary is coming up soon,” akaashi says one night while you’re laying in suga’s bed together. he’s in between the two of you, his head on your chest while suga is curled against his back. ❀ུ۪  “what’s it been, four months?” you tease, knowing full well it’s been a lot longer than that. ❀ུ۪   suga snorts in amusement, reaching out to lace his fingers with akaashi’s, which is tracing patterns on your stomach. “very funny. try a year. i can’t believe it’s been so long. what should we do?” ❀ུ۪   so you decide to return to the botanical garden, since it was the place you went for your first date. they happen to be having a special exhibit for some rare plants, and afterwards you go to dinner at a more upscale restaurant. it’s there you casually mention that you have to renew your lease on your apartment in a few months, and that starts some thoughts. ❀ུ۪   they talk about it amongst themselves first, later on while you’re at work, just so that if one of them isn’t ready, you aren’t hurt. of course they are ready, with a sly comment from suga about how he was ready after the first date just to watch akaashi turn bright red, and bring it up to you when they next see you. which is later that night because none of you spend the night alone at that point. ❀ུ۪   it’s just a matter of where and since akaashi lives above his shop alone and it’s a whole apartment by itself, it’s already decided that that’s where you’ll move into. the look on your face is hysterical when they bring it up to you because as soon as you walked through the door they said, “we have to talk, ____,” and of course you were afraid that they were going to break up with you. ❀ུ۪   no one likes those words, seriously. ❀ུ۪   but of course they just tell you they were talking about moving in together and whether you would be alright with it and are surprised when you knock suga off his chair and to the floor-- he was the one closest to you, rip suga-- with a laugh. ❀ུ۪   since everyone’s stuff is interspersed amongst your apartments at that point, you spend a lot of time gathering that stuff up and moving it to akaashi’s apartment. suga cheerfully expresses how easy it’s going to be to move out of his apartment when his lease is up and enjoys the glowing smiles he receives. ❀ུ۪   a bigger bed is in order, for sure, and you and suga insist on upgrading his coffeepot. when suga’s lease is finally up is when the move in is complete and, even though he’s come home to it countless times before, there’s a different feeling when he comes in that night to the sound of your laughter, the tv on in the background, and the smell of cooking food all filling the air. ❀ུ۪   now, he thinks, it feels like home.

↠ masterlist

[misscorn]

Day 7

Favorite Series

I think its no surprise that sekaiichi hatsukoi is my favorite series @sihjrweek ❤❤ this has been fun! Thank you everyone for your nice words about my fics which ended up becoming a 'they never broke up' au lmao and thank you @sekaiichis for hosting 💕💖💕

***

Onodera Ritsu was an easily flustered man. So, it was moments like this when his lover was asleep that he took the opportunity to admire him. Normally, Ritsu wouldn't be able to so blatantly stare without his boyfriend making some sort of comment. So, the brunette had to take what he could get. The aforementioned boyfriend, Takano Masamune, was very handsome after all. Not that Ritsu could ever let him know that. He already had such a big head.

Yes, Takano and not Saga, but Ritsu and his high school sweetheart hadn't suffered a breakup. In fact, his high school sweetheart was the one in bed with him right now. Unfortunately, Masamune's parents had gone through a divorce and Masamune found out the man who raised him was not his real father. Thus, the name change. It had been a difficult time, to say the least. It was not something either of them enjoyed reminiscing about.

Ritsu had been very worried when Masamune told him everything that happened with his parents. He was concerned not only for Masamune's well being, but also for their relationship. Masamune had the tendency to push everyone away when he was hurting.

Ritsu had been afraid of being annoying or making things worse, but he stayed by Masamune's side through the whole thing whether he wanted him to or not. There had been definite moments of tensions, moments where Ritsu thought Masamune might be slipping away from him, but in the end they got through it together.

The habit of carrying all your burdens by yourself was one that both Ritsu and Masamune had to overcome, neither of them used to relying on someone else during rough times, but a lot had changed over these past 8 years. That included Ritsu moving into Masamune's apartment after he graduated from his University. Masamune had offered Ritsu to move in with him much sooner than that and as much as Ritsu would have liked that, Ritsu knew he'd never get any schoolwork done with Masamune around.

Ritsu sighed contently as he watched Masamune sleep, reaching out to gently brush some of his hair out of his eyes. He smiled affectionately, his hand moving down to cup his cheek with a feather-light touch.

Masamune turned his head and kissed the palm of his hand, making Ritsu jump. "Good morning." He greeted gruffly, his voice rough from just waking up.

"G-g-good m-morning." Ritsu went to pull his hand away, but Masamune held on to it and continued to press kisses against it.

"Please, feel free to keep staring." He said between kisses.

"I was NOT staring." Ritsu quickly denied.

"Mm, you're getting better at lying. Should I be worried?" Masamune asked.

"Shut up." Ritsu said.

Masamune smiled tiredly. They both had today off, so he was looking forward to spending the day with the brunette. Both men worked as editors, Ritsu working for his father's company in the literature department and Masamune working for a magazine called Weekly Earth, but both of them were starting to consider leaving their positions due to trouble with coworkers.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Masamune asked.

"I thought it was my turn to make breakfast."

"I don't mind."

"Just say you hate my cooking." Ritsu said, making Masamune laugh.

"Yeah, I hate your cooking."

"Jerk."

"You know I'm joking." Masamune gave another sleepy grin. "But if you wanna cook that bad, be my guest." He said.

Ritsu sat up and stretched a little. "I'm gonna shower first."

"Is that an invitation?"

"No." Ritsu rolled his eyes, used to the casual perversion.

"What if I crash the party anyways?"

"Go back to sleep if you're gonna be annoying." Ritsu stood, his words holding no real bite.

Masamune laid there contently, watching Ritsu walk off to the bathroom before he rolled over to grab his phone. He scrolled mindlessly for a couple minutes before Ritsu's ringtone went off. He set his own phone aside to check the caller ID, wondering if it was An or another friend of Ritsu's that he knew.

Mom

Masamune frowned and rolled back over to face away from it. 8 years later and Masamune still hadn't met Ritsu's parents. Ritsu had met his mom in high school, albeit it was an accident. Masamune thought the two of them would be alone all night and his mom ended up coming home while Masamune was being very affectionate with Ritsu on the couch.

It had gone okay after Ritsu stopped losing his mind and Masamune had gotten over the embarrassment. Masamune didn't have a lot shame, but no one wanted their mom to walk in on them making out with their partner.

Kotoko had been certainly shocked at first and while she didn't love the idea of Masamune having a boyfriend, she was not going to try to get in the way.

Ritsu probably only saw her once more after that, but it made sense since Kotoko was not heavily involved in Masamune's life, if at all.

Ritsu's mother on the other hand...

Ritsu visited his parents' house about once a month, though somehow he managed to keep them from coming over here, and he got frequent calls from his mother, usually about marriage. That silly engagement between An and Ritsu had ended a while ago, but that didn't stop Youko from trying. She was starting to try to set up match making sessions as well.

Masamune sighed, some of his good mood stolen from him as he stood and put a shirt on. He then slid into the bathroom to brush his teeth, Ritsu already in the shower with the curtain closed.

"I come in peace." Masamune said before he grabbed his toothbrush.

"I didn't say anything!"

"Yeah, but you forget that you think way too loudly. You were definitely yelling something in your mind about me being a pervert." Masamune said, his tone giving away his amusement.

Ritsu just grumbled something intelligible as Masamune brushed his teeth. The older man actually kept true to his word and didn't jump Ritsu in the shower, even if he wanted to. Instead he left to go into the kitchen.

Masamune decided he was too impatient to wait for Ritsu to finish his shower, so he put on a pot of coffee before starting breakfast.

"You do hate my cooking." Ritsu said, coming into the kitchen just as Masamune plated the food.

"I didn't feel like waiting." Masamune shrugged. "You want coffee?"

"I shouldn't." Ritsu sighed. He was getting addicted to the stuff.

"So, that's a yes?" Masamune asked, already pouring the hot drink into two mugs, adding creamer and sugar to Ritsu's and leaving his own black. They sat down together, Ritsu thanking Masamune for the meal.

The two ate in silence, which wasn't unusual, but Ritsu could tell there was something on Masamune's mind. He seemed a little more spacey and there were no attempts to hold his hand or make any flirty comments, which just wasn't like Masamune at all.

"What's wrong?" Ritsu asked.

"Hm? Nothing, nothing's wrong, I was just thinking..." He trailed off, taking a deep breath and bracing himself for the response he might get. "You...want to marry me, right?"

"M-M-Marry you?!" Ritsu was glad he hadn't been drinking or eating at that moment because he surely would've choked on it.

"Yeah, not right now, I want to propose in a more romantic way than that, but like...you do want to marry me, right?"

Ritsu blushed a deep red. Masamune had to fight back a smile at the sight. It was nice to know that after so many years Masamune could still make him blush like that.

"Y-Yes, o-of course I want to marry you, b-but why are you suddenly asking about this?" He asked.

"...Your mom called while you were in the shower." Masamune said honestly.

"Eh?! Did you pick up?" Ritsu asked. Did Masamune talk to his mom? Not only that, but did Masamune talk to his mom about MARRIAGE?!

"No, I didn't, but I know she's always trying to set you up and it just made me start thinking about us." Masamune said. "I want to marry you, Ritsu. I want that more than anything in the world and honestly I want to do it soon. The only thing that could make me happier than waking up next to you is waking up next to you as your husband." Masamune paused briefly before he spoke again. "But, unless we're going to have some sort of secret ceremony...I need to meet your parents."

'A secret ceremony wouldn't be too bad, would it?' Ritsu thought. It sounded like a great idea! He was in no way, shape or form prepared for Masamune to meet his parents! Oh God, Ritsu felt like he was forgetting how to breathe.

"Hey." Masamune recognized that panicked expression, reaching out to hold his hand tightly. "It doesn't have to be today, tomorrow, or this week. It doesn't even have to be this month. And you have to remember that you're not alone in this. We're gonna get through this together."

Ritsu took a deep breath and nodded. As terrified as he was, he knew Masamune was right. His parents were constantly asking to visit his new apartment, his mother was still trying to set him up with women, and Ritsu wanted to take the next step in his relationship with Masamune. None of that would be resolved until Masamune met them.

"Okay...so, what's the plan? For when you meet them."

"I'll dazzle them with my charm, of course. Your dad will be begging to give me his blessing to marry you."

Ritsu laughed, making Masamune smile. "And if you somehow don't dazzle them and this blows up in our faces?"

"Impossible."

"I'm serious, Masamune...they could disown me." Ritsu's smile was gone now.

"I know. And if that happens, there isn't really anything we can do about it. But, in the end it's their loss and I think they'd eventually realize that." Masamune said.

"And if they don't?"

"I'm not gonna lie or try to sugarcoat it, it'll fucking suck. It'll hurt. You'll feel betrayed and abandoned and angry, but you won't feel like that forever. Trust me when I say you eventually stop caring about your shitty parents."

Ritsu took another breath and squeezed Masamune hand. "I'm visiting them for dinner next week. Come with me."

"You're sure you'll be ready by then?"

"I'll be scared, but...I want to marry you, Masamune. I've wanted to since I was a kid and I don't want to wait much longer."

Masamune couldn't help but to smile. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Once they were finished breakfast, Masamune insisted on cleaning even though he had cooked.

'If he does this too often I'll get spoiled.' Ritsu thought as he went back into his room to grab his phone. He went to 'missed calls' and dialed his mother back.

"Good morning, mom." He greeted when she picked up. He spoke quickly before she could go off on some tangent about some 'lovely young lady' she'd recently met. "About dinner next week...there's someone I'd like you to meet."