#looking at his gray hair makes me realise how far we’ve come with him and it upsets me

[thomashelbyswife]

im not ready we got old Tommy Shelby 💔

[imxeracus]

From Now On

Ok y’all, this is super long hahahahha I’m so sorry. Happy Gruvia Week 2021!! Here’s my contribution and I’m sorry but I don’t think I have the time to do more but I hope you guys like it anyway. I hope its not too OOC and if FT had more romance elements I believe this would be possible. Enjoy!

--------------------------- Gray tousled his hair and fidgeted around the entrance, feeling nervous about the day when it was only about 10 o’clock in the morning. Today, he told himself that he had to make sure things went well and most of all, to not take off any of his clothes subconsciously. For an ice mage, ironically he could not seem to get himself to calm down and stay cool about this. Regarding his first official date with Juvia, that is.

The 100 Years Quest was over and as promised, he spoke to Juvia about their relationship and how he was finally good enough for her. Despite the water mage’s disagreement to his initial beliefs and reasoning, she was elated that Gray formally addressed their feelings for each other. Furthermore, he initiated that they ought to have a proper first date that weekend itself.

He clicked his tongue briefly and frowned upon himself as he began to manifest in some thoughts to keep himself together. Why are you getting all nervous for! He ponders, his hands getting a little clammy in his pockets. Aren’t you the Gray Fullbuster, who bravely puts himself out for others and save the world countless times?

”Gray-sama?”

Before he could go on any further, a cute slivery voice interrupted his train of thought. Miserably trying to keep his cool, he spun around eagerly and was met with sapphire eyes that gave off a different vibe from her usual self. The said bluenette had her locks half tied and wore an off-shoulder dress that was not too revealing, similar to her nature. Accompanied with her outfit was a pair of kitten heels, some accessories and a subtle blush adorning her cheeks.

”Juvia is sorry for making you wait.”

For the majority, her outfit is considered simple and chic but for today, Gray thought she looked really, really good. Dammit, he gulped loudly as he felt his cheeks started to blush already at the sight of her. He knew that the water user was attractive, but it was beginning to sink in that he is now calling this beautiful person his. “Ah—um—” Gray fumbled and looked away, trying his best to hide the redness. “Shall we get going?” She simply smiled, gave a small chuckle and placed her left hand gently on his right arm (as if he could take more), indicating him to proceed to their destination. On their first date, Fullbuster had planned to go and visit the aquarium—because the water reminds him of Juvia, but he is never going to admit it—which was not too far off from where they were. It was a good walking distance, and they had a nice peaceful time on the way there. Despite saying that, he was worried as it did not seem natural for the bluenette to stay silent. Especially today, he expected her to be more excited and be all over him. As they arrive at the aquarium, Gray went over to the counter and bought a pair of tickets and made his way back to the front, where Juvia was waiting for him. As he carefully observed the water mage from a distance, he could see that she was looking down with an expression he could not seem to grasp. ”Juvia.” Surprised, she looked up hastily to see Gray back by her side. ”Is everything alright?” ”Juvia’s fine!” She exclaimed, quick to lighten up the mood. “She’s just... a little excited—as in, we’ve never done this before—but Juvia’s really happy!” She glanced at him timidly. “Also, Gray-sama looks dashing today.” For once with the determination of not stripping everything off, the ice mage did make the effort to dress well in a brown coat paired with a t-shirt and jeans. Albeit reddening slightly at her remark, he was more concerned on the fact she seemed to not be telling the truth. Here he was, blessed to have her despite all those years of constantly avoiding her advances—and now, when she is distressed, she was still keeping herself together to not worry him. His gaze soften as the guilt was slowly crept up inside him. Despite that, the said man tried to push the matter aside for the time being and wanted to make sure the day goes well. As of now, he knew that he needed to push himself more and step up his game. Once again, her eyes met with his onyx ones as he spoke quickly. “You.. you look good, too.” Juvia’s pupils dilated while Gray blushed furiously, frowning at how embarrassed he was over such a simple statement. It was a start, at least. He also noted on how she seemed to be elated from it. Before she could ask anything else, he took her hand in his and brought them into the aquarium. He could tell people were staring as the both of them were rather known after all they have done in Fiore, but screw it. Gray decided that it was not going to get in the way of his pride today if it could. Thankfully, the ice mage started to loosen up as Juvia gleefully looked at all the sea creatures that were present. When her beloved mentioned about this place, she gladly agreed because this place was known for breeding imported fishes outside of Fiore. The water woman, being part of the sea and occasionally swimming in it, found joy learning the names and characteristics of the animals she meets in the ocean.  “So these are angelfishes!” she exclaimed to Gray, as she lightly tapped on his shoulder while pointing at the said creature. “Juvia always sees them if she takes a dive into the ocean.” “Hmm,” Gray mused, acting disinterested. “What else do you normally see?” "Juvia’s seen all of these underwater because in this tank, all of them are common sea fishes.” “Isn’t that a bore?” The ice mage rolled his eyes. “We should go see something you don’t normally see—that’s what this place is for.” He smoothly took her hand in his and brought her along. Meanwhile, Juvia lightly blushes as she realised that this incident—Gray initiating the hand holding—has been happening a few times already. Every time she releases his grasp to point or walk towards a destination, the brunet would eventually put them back together again. She glanced at Gray who seemed to pay no mind to the matter as they visited the different tanks and places of the aquarium. Indeed, the bluenette was not complaining but a little taken aback. Is this suppose to be normal? She thought, as her imagination continued to spiral on. The smooth and sly Gray-sama was taking a little too much for her to handle—even from before! Eventually, her legs gave way and she started to lose her balance. Quickly, she placed her hand on the wall for balance which caused her footsteps to come to a halt and the ice mage to notice her situation. “Juvia!” He held her arms by the sides and shook her slightly in worry. “I’m right earlier, aren’t I? You really weren’t feeling good?” “Gray-sama...” He raised a brow in question. “Yes?” Juvia took a quick glance back at him before she burst into tears. “Gray-sama is too gentlemanly and sly today!” She wailed, half in distress and in joy. “First, he chooses to dress up and pick Juvia up at her place. Secondly, he complimented her outfit she took hours to decide and still felt it wasn’t good enough!” “Lastly, Juvia didn’t want to bother him and occasionally walks on her own, but Gray-sama keeps coming back, holding her hands gently and she’s too happy that she can’t walk straight anymore!” Full of emotions, she tried to control her tears as she quickly wiped some of it away. “Juvia’s not used to it Gray-sama. You’re being too nice and cool!” At this he flushed hard, did he really hold her hand so often? “Oi!” He panicked, his cheeks continue to redden in embarrassment at her bold statements of him. “D-don’t make sure a big deal out of it. I mean—like—just calm down!” With her loud voice, the people nearby saw and heard the context of the incident and lightly chuckled in amusement which caused Gray to be conscious with their surroundings and it made him uncomfortable. He quickly took her to an area with minimal crowd and dimmed lights to spare them from all the attention. He sat Juvia down on the nearby bench in hopes to calm her down as she sniffed softly. The ice mage took a moment to stare at the bluenette who was being all worked up earlier on. Gray’s eyebrows furrowed as he run his hand through his hair in exasperation before he sat down next to her. “Here,” A cold can drink grazed upon Juvia’s cheek gently. “Drink this.” She took it with gratitude and managed a few sips, a troubled look appearing on her features as she noticed her beloved looking away—clearly upset. The water mage frowned and looked down, tightening her hold on the can drink as she quickly apologises. “Juvia is sorry, Gray-sama. She should’ve known better than to embarrass Gray-sama in public,” Surprised at herself, she started to fumble. “Gray-sama doesn’t like attention and Juvia failed to see it. Juvia shouldn’t have been so swamped at her own giddiness, Juvia was too–” “Stop it,” Gray clicked his tongue in annoyance, his bangs covering his eyes. “You make me sound like a terrible boyfriend.” “Juvia didn’t mean—eh?” It took a moment before she realised what Gray has declared and took a small peak at him. “Did Gray-sama just say ‘boyfriend’?” “Aren’t I?” “Juvia didn’t expect you to say that out...” He scratched his neck nervously, his eyes looking away. “I mean.. I promised you didn’t I? I’m going to become a man good enough for you. If I can’t even say that out, I’m worse than flamebrain.” As much as she was feeling touched, she couldn’t help but worry. “Juvia doesn’t want to force you to change, Gray-sama.” “I’m not forcing myself.” “But Gray-sama kept forcing himself to make sure that we held hands—” “Because I wanted to!” Pupils dilated once again as she was struck with confusion. Fullbuster, flushed and embarrassed at what he just blurted out, grew annoyed at her denseness and tousled his hair once more before speaking up. “Dammit woman, why are you making me say all these sappy shit...” “Look,” He sighed before looking back at her once again, determined. “Every time we hold hands, I always try to play it cool but damn—it’s stupid to say this as a grown man but I get so nervous and happy about it. I kept wanting you close to me....” Gray felt annoyed at his frenzied heart as he continued to speak his feelings aloud. “I really want to be better for you, Juvia. I don’t want you to always make it easy for me. I want to return the favour back as much as I can.”  Before he went on, the ice mage narrowed his eyes in dismay and looked away as he gripped his knuckles tightly. “But this whole time, I kept making you cry and get upset. Even now, I don’t even know how to make you feel better when you’re always here for me previously. Instead, I chose to take us somewhere else and frown about it because I was a coward.... I’m sorry.” The ice mage mumbled at the end of his sentence, but Juvia could make out his words anytime. It was funny, really. All her life, the water mage was contented on loving him without expecting anything much back. Now, when it was becoming a reality, Juvia’s heart swelled. For once, her mind went blank on how to express these thoughts aloud. Loving Gray has been wonderful, but being loved back by him now was even better than she could ever imagined. She placed a hand on his cheek in efforts to cheer him up and as he turned back—in his opinion, Gray was greeted with the most alluring smile he has ever seen. “Thank you for trying so hard, Gray-sama.” She spoke in the most loving voice she could muster. “Juvia loves you very much.” In that moment, his gaze softened as he swiftly took away her hand that was on his face into his own, lacing them together. Tightening his hold on her said hand, Gray took her cheek in with his other free palm. The ice mage took a good look at her before he slowly leaned in. He heard Juvia uttered something out of confusion, but he paid no mind to it. Because in that moment, all he could think of was how much he adored her kindness, love and patience.  In the dim lighting and quiet section of the aquarium, his lips met hers in a chaste kiss as response to her statement earlier on. Frankly, the ice mage did not know what to say either as he nervously pulled away to check on her reaction. When his eyes slowly opened and met with hers, Gray could not help but smile back at his girl whose cheeks were now flushed in surprise. He let out a slight chuckle and squeezed her hand lovingly as he could tell that the water mage was clearly still processing the kiss. It was embarrassing, he admitted, but he did not regret doing so. He had nothing to hide anyways. “Shall we continue on with our date?”

After all, Juvia was his to keep from now on.

[mmvalentine]

Home is Where You Are pt 5 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. CW: Tamlin DV times under the cut. It gets better though, there's HEAPS of fluff that follows I promise!! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Rhys and Feyre stayed up talking for a little bit, Rhys poured her a glass of brandy and tried not to say too much as she recounted the night's events.

They had gotten into a fight. Tamlin had gotten angry. He was always angry, these days. Tamlin threw a desk, and knocked Feyre to the ground. An accident, just an accident.

"And... him controlling your food intake?" "Not an accident," Feyre admitted. "It started out as meal plans, when he was my personal trainer. And then we were dieting together, because he had done all this research. Then it was just me. I don't know where I lost control of it, I just stopped having opinions one day." She laughed, bitterly. "Not like me at all." "It's hard to form coherent thoughts when you're starving all the time," Rhys said.

Bottom line, Feyre had done it. Gave him back the ring and everything. There was a part of Rhys that was relieved but he also felt awful for having let it get this far. For not stepping in earlier.

"I should have said something," he told her. "You did," Feyre said. "I didn't listen." She pulled her feet up under her.

"It's just, I never had anyone look after me, you know? Not since I was thirteen. So, when Tamlin came along, and he dictated my exercise schedule and cooked my meals, it was nice. For once I wasn't the one running after everyone else. I guess I became afraid to leave.

"Until he threw a table and I remembered telling you that Tamlin wasn't your father. I was sort of right. Tamlin didn't even have to be drunk to start throwing furniture. I shouldn't have stayed so long."

Rhys slid a little closer to her and made sure she was looking into his eyes. "It is not your fault that this happened," he said. "This is no one's fault but Tamlin's."

In the weeks that followed, Feyre bounced back at a rate that had Rhys marveling at the strength of her. She was quiet the first couple of days, and mostly stayed in her room. But Rhys would come invite her to taste what he was cooking, or watch what was on Netflix, or give an opinion on the magazine piece he was working on. The bruise on her cheek faded, she gained weight back little by little, and then one day Rhys came home to find her humming in the kitchen while she made spaghetti and he wanted to pick her up in his arms and spin her around the room.

Instead, he settled for sitting on a bar stool and letting her bring a spoonful of sauce to his lips, while wearing the biggest, goofiest grin he had ever had. "Good?" Feyre asked. "Amazing," Rhys said, and when she beamed at him it knocked the breath out of him. "Excellent. Give me like, ten minutes and then come eat." Rhys raised his eyebrows. "You're cooking me dinner?" he asked. "I am. Now go take a shower and put on your comfy pants, because I made so much garlic bread."

Rhys didn't move. Feyre put the ladle back in the pot, wiped her hands on a tea towel, then realised he was staring at her. "What?" she asked. Her blue-gray eyes went wide, and a wisp of hair fell into her face. She had her curls piled on top her her head, beautiful and shiny again now that she was eating, and she was wearing a knitted, over-sized sweated that was rolled up at the sleeves and somehow looked incredible on her.

"Feyre Archeron you are a wonder," Rhys said. Feyre grinned. "Why thank you, Rhysie darling." She flicked the tea towel at him. "Now get, my garlic bread is burning." Ten minutes later, Rhys sat at a small, round table in sweat pants and a black sweater. It was the table from his balcony, but since it was raining out, Feyre had dragged it inside and draped a table cloth over it. She fussed around him, setting everything on the table and slapping his hands when he tried to help. Finally, she sat down opposite him, and the table was so small their knees knocked together.

"And just what is the occasion here?" Rhys asked. Feyre's cheeks were rosy from standing over the stove, and then rushing around the table. She smiled at him, and then took a deep breath.

"I just wanted to say, thank you. For giving me a place no one could find me. For seeing me. For reminding me that carbs exist!" She grinned. "For-" "Don't," Rhys cut her off. "Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum for you. After everything you've been though, you amaze me every day with how strong you are." "Well," Feyre said, "if you can survive after your dad..." Her face changed then. Her mouth got sad, but her eyes were bright. "I can survive after Tamlin." She raised her wine glass.

"Fuck those abusive shit heads," she said. Rhys picked up his glass. "Fuck yeah."

Then Feyre smiled again, and Rhys had no idea how he was going to get through dinner if she kept doing that.

"Okay eat up!" she said, and he laughed into his wine as he watched her twirl and then devour an enormous mouthful of spaghetti. A fucking wonder indeed.

Over the next six months they settled into an easy routine. Feyre was at the studio three days a week, and also started a kick boxing class with another woman she had met in her therapy group. Rhys started to wish his days away so he could get home and watch Feyre bounce around the apartment. He had never particularly enjoyed being there, but these days he couldn't wait to get home.

They cooked together on the weekends, and watched TV on the couch on week nights. At first, Rhys had been very careful about being in her personal space, since he remembered hating to be touched for years after his father had died. But Feyre seemed so comfortable around him. She would grab his arm when she thought of something funny to tell him, or smack him when he teased her, or lean against him when she started to doze in front of the television. After she started her class, she would practice her kick-boxing moves on him, and once accidentally hurt him more than she had meant to. It had been utterly, completely worth it.

They never outright discussed how long she would stay. Early on, Feyre had mentioned apartment hunting. But Rhys had just shrugged. "It's rent controlled here," he said. "And I'm paying for that room whether you're in it or not. Stay as long as you like."

So little pieces of Feyre started to appear all around the house. Her toiletries in the kitchen cabinet, stray hair ties on the bench top, her favourite biscuits in the cupboard. Once, he had come home and she had a row of underwear hanging up over the balcony. He had almost had a conniption at the thought of her in lace.

It was a thought he buried, hard. The last thing he wanted was to have told Feyre that she could come and be safe here, and then make a move less than a year after her broken engagement. If she wanted a quiet life here with him, that would absolutely be enough.

Although, some days were harder than others. The thoughts could be shoved aside, but he had no control over the way his body reacted to her. To her barefoot in the morning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. To her stretching in the living room before a run. God, one time the washing machine broke and she had nothing to wear, so she borrowed one of his shirts to wear to bed. It was almost cruel.

One day, Rhys had worked late and by the time he was home, Feyre had fallen asleep in front of the TV. He turned the screen off, then squatted down and gazed at her resting face. Her perfect, rose petal lips were slightly parted, she had a frown, and was muttering under her breath.

"Feyre," he whispered. "Feyre we've got to get you to bed." "Rhys," she murmured. He thought she was waking up. "Yes honey, it's just me." Then she moaned his name. "Rhys, don't stop." What? "Mm, right there, don't stop."

Rhys stood up so fast he nearly tripped over the coffee table. The sound of his heel kicking the wood had Feyre startling awake.

"Rhys?" she asked. He had to double check her eyes were actually open this time. When he was sure, he sat down carefully on the table.

"Hello," he said. "I'm sorry to wake you." "It's okay," Feyre frowned. "We were just... I was dreaming." Rhys chuckled. "I know. You fell asleep on the couch. Do you want to go to bed?" Feyre's eyes popped open wide. "What?!" Then she relaxed. "Oh. Right. Yes, I should, ah..." she looked at him then, and blushed. Very deeply. "I should go to bed."

And with that, she wandered off, leaving Rhys completely dazed and not just a little turned on.

Two days later, Rhys woke up on a Saturday and had trudged out to make some coffee. Feyre was already up, sitting at the counter reading a book. He turned on the machine, yawned, and stretched while waiting for it to do its thing. He hadn't worn a shirt to bed, and the morning chill sent shivers along his bare skin.

Then he glanced over, and found Feyre staring at him. Glassy eyed, parted lips, naked staring. And not at his face, either. A feline grin stretched itself over Rhys' lips.

"Good book, Feyre darling?" She jumped sightly. "Ah, yes," she said. "Very... very good." She slid off her stool. "I'd better get ready, kick boxing, you know." "Sure," Rhys said, still grinning. She slipped away, without making eye contact. Rhys poured his coffee.

Five minutes later, Feyre emerged wearing the tiniest pair of exercise shorts he had ever seen. He almost spat his drink.

"Well," she said brightly. "I'm headed off. Might go by the shops later, do you need anything?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to struggle. He shook his head. "Have fun," he managed. Feyre flashed him a dazzling smile. "Thanks!" she said, and bounced out the door.

Oh. Oh he was in trouble.

****

That's right folks, you have made it through the angst and I am now burying you in fluff. Nothing brings me greater joy except smut.

I apologise for the length and for squishing 6 months into this one chapter. It was originally two separate chapters, but I felt like I was undercutting you in the fluff department and I didn't want to break my promise. I kept the original pacing on my ao3.

As always please let me know what you think!!

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @asteria-of-mars@booksmusicandgoodvibes @burritowithfeels

[itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto]

Doctor’s Orders.

A/N: Hi everyone, this fic is a crossover between Criminal Minds and CSI New York, so I hope you enjoy. Just before you do, I’d just like to do a little shout-out to @g0ldengubler​ who proof read some of this fic for me. I won’t be publishing a lot now, as I have a lot of University work and exam to prepare for, but I’ll still be online! My requests for Matthew Gray Gubler and Spencer Reid are still open, as is my taglist! 

Triggers:  Shootings at Churches/religious places, swearing, sex/smut (implied)

“Right my darlings, today I am taking you to New York.” Garcia said “Ooh, all expenses paid?” Emily asked all excited. “Case.” Hotch said as everyone groaned, in desperate need for a holiday. “There has been a series of shootings at Churches, and every time a family sadly dies.” J.J says, “They get shot and well, you get the idea. Detective Mac Taylor called us for help.” “I thought the NYPD would be able to solve this, they’re all really smart.” Spencer said “They are, but they need our help in bringing the unsub, or unsubs down. They don’t know who they are looking for.” Penelope said, “Now go crime fighters, the plane leaves in an hour.” “Bye baby girl.” Morgan said kissing Penelope’s cheek. “Come back safe my darlings.” Penelope said waving goodbye to them as they got in the lift “God I love that woman.” Morgan smiled “Speaking of women, Reid, you single?” Rossi asked Spencer looked up from his book and his cheeks flushed. “Yes. I don’t see how that is relevant.” “Maybe we can get you a pretty lady on the next team night out, or maybe even whilst we are in New York. I mean, we need to get you a girl.” J.J smiled “Yeah, we need another girl we can take on girls night.” Emily said “Maybe we can see if we can get the vacancy filled for a new agent on the team whilst in New York.” Hotch said, agreeing with J.J and Emily, but tried to think of a professional response. “I didn’t realise we had the budget for a new agent, I would have got a new type of coffee if I knew.” Rossi said “Not everything is about coffee Rossi.” Morgan said “It is when you are Italian.” Rossi said and got out of the lift. Spencer rolled his eyes at his co-workers and picked up another book. He did agree he needed to get out there but wanted to when he was ready. On the plane “My darlings, there’s been another church shooting. Mac Taylor will meet you with Detective and all-round forensics & Detective and Doctor Y/N Y/S/N will be there too, oh, and her PhDs are in Mathematics and Chemistry, same as genius baby.” Penelope said on the phone providing more details. “Thank you Garcia.” Hotch said and hung up. “Did someone enjoy researching the detective?” Morgan texts Garcia “That’s classified chocolate thunder and you know it. ;)” Penelope replied “Reid, Rossi go with Agent/Doctor Y/N Y/S/N and see what they have so far. J.J, Emily and Morgan with me and Mac Taylor when we get off the plane.” Hotch said. “Aaron Hotchner, Dr Y/N Y/S/N, we spoke on the phone. This is Detective Mac Taylor.” You say and do handshakes with everyone except the cute curly haired one. “It’s actually safer to kiss or hug.” Spencer said to you after introducing himself to you. “Nice to meet another Doctor.” He smiled You smile back, “You too Dr Reid.” “You can call me Spence if you like.” Spencer smiled as J.J and Emily give each-other ‘the look’ and text Penelope. “And you can call me Y/N or Y/N/N. I only let special people call me my nickname though.” You wink and Spencer’s cheeks flush. “Special people kid. She likes you.” Rossi winked Spencer rolled his eyes and went with you, Hotch and Mac to the office to discuss the case so far. “Would you like some coffee? The flight must’ve been a long one.” You say putting the machine on. “Only 1 hour, 12 minutes.” Spencer smiled “He means yes, we’d love some coffee.” Rossi said as Spencer gave him a ‘What?’ facial expression “Here you go.” You smile. “Sugar and milk are on the table behind you. I got some donuts earlier, there were more but I had a sugar craving.” “Thank you Y/N, this is perfect. We don’t normally get food.” Spencer said picking up a donut “Rossi, could you join Hotch and I to go through some forensics?” Mac asked “Sure.” Rossi said and left the two Doctors to it. “They seem to be getting on. Y/N/N is my best detective.” Mac smiled at Rossi, “But she doesn’t have much of a life outside of the job. She’s only 28 and started here at 16 as an intern.” “I could say the same about Spencer, and he’s 30 but he started at the FBI when he was 22.” Rossi said as he looked at some evidence under the microscope. “So, what are your PhDs in Y/N/N?” Spencer smiled at you even though he knew the answer. “Maths and Chemistry, but I want to go for one in History next. What about you Spence?” You ask as the team walk back in. “Oh me too! Well, not the History bit.” Spencer said and sipped his coffee. “Look guys, Dr Y/S/N brought us donuts.” He said “Ooh good, I’m starving.” J.J smiled grabbing one. You, Mac and the FBI went through the case, and the team went through their profile. “You keep staring at him.” Mac whispered to you “Who?” You whisper back “Dr Reid.” Mac whispered as your cheeks flush, maybe you have got a crush on him. “Is it that obvious?” You whisper Mac nods and you go back to listening. “So, you think it’s a foster kid then?” You chat to Emily and J.J who have taken a shine to you. “Yeah, we have seen it before.” Emily said “I’m sorry.” You say “Don’t be Y/N. We’ve all seen terrible things.” J.J said “I’ll drink to that.” You say “Once the case is over, we should all go for a drink.” Rossi said “That’d be good.” Hotch said You and Spencer nod and continue reading some old case files that Penelope sent. “This is interesting. Drew Smith was in and out of care all his life, and all of his foster families said he was sweet at first but then turned into the devil. Could he fit the profile Spence?” You ask, handing him the file. Spencer reads it in all of 30 seconds. “Yeah. Definitely. Hotch?” He asks. “Y/N has a theory.” “Put me on the spot why don’t you?” You giggle at Spencer, “Mac?” You ask and the two teams listen to you. “Look at Spencer giving Y/N the googly eyes.” Morgan smirked to Rossi. “She’s smart and beautiful, he had better ask her out. Or Hotch better ask her to join us.” J.J said looking at Hotch in the eye “Plus she has a gun and a badge already. She wouldn’t need training.” Emily said agreeing with her co-workers. “She’s Mac’s best detective, he won’t give her up easy.” Rossi said You finish delivering your theory. “I’ll have a word with Mac once the case is over.” Hotch says after hearing the teams discussion. “Y/N, could you go with Spencer and Flack to see if you can bring in Smith? Make sure to take your gun though.” Mac asked, “If that’s okay with you Hotch.” “Yes, that is fine.” Hotch said as the girls and Morgan smirked at each-other. You nod biting your lip and go to your desk to get your weapon Spencer follows you, noticing a photo of you and the NYPD team at Halloween dressed up, but you look very young. “When was this?” Spencer asked you. “Oh, the year the NYPD offered me a paid job. I started here as an intern at 16 and worked my way up. I got a paid detective internship at 18 that means I’ve been here 12 years this year. That’s a fucking long time.” You chuckle putting your hoodie on. Spencer nods. “Definitely. I’ve been at the FBI for 8.” “You ready Y/N? Dr Reid, right? I’m Flack.” Flack asks putting his hand out to Spencer. “He doesn’t do handshakes.” You smile, remembering his germaphobia. “It’s safer to kiss or hug.” Spencer said “But we’ve kissed before Y/N.” Flack smiled at you Spencer immediately feels jealous, and he doesn’t understand why… Maybe he does fancy you. “Yes, on the cheek as my best friend.” You smile as Flack wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Let’s roll.” “Is it me or did Spencer look jealous then?” Morgan smirked “Yes. Definitely.” Hotch said Mac laughed. “Flack has a girlfriend. I can tell Y/N likes Spencer. She’s like a daughter to me, but I am terrified of her sometimes.” Rossi laughed, “We are terrified of Spencer sometimes.” In the car “Turn left you fucker.” Flack laughed as you took the wrong turn. “I turned left.” You smirk “You turned right.” Spencer said laughing at your banter with Flack. “You may be a Doctor Y/N, but you are shit at listening for directions.” Flack said “You may need my Maths skills one day you bell-end and if you hadn’t noticed, the sign said no left turn.” You smirk and arrive at Smith’s apartment. “Maybe listen to your doctor.” Spencer smirked “Ah she knows I’m messing with her.” Flack smiled as he got out of the car. “She’s like my little sister.” “And you’re my dickhead of a big brother.” You say and park up. “I miss when you were 16 and didn’t answer back.” Flack laughed as some shots were fired, you all quickly put vests on as Flack kicks down the door. “I see you have your own Derek Morgan.” Spencer thought to himself “Freeze! NYPD and FBI! Lower your weapons.” You announce, as Smith tries to run but you trip him up. “Got you, you son of a bitch. Oh, and you have a little weed farm here too, we better add that to the murder charge.” “Murder?” Smith says as Flack puts him in cuffs. “We got Smith and we need a crime scene team here ASAP.” You say calling it in. “Don’t play dumb with us asshole.” Flack said putting him in the car. Back at the office, Mac and Hotch are talking to Drew, whilst the rest of your team and the FBI compare notes before they interview him.

“Do they always say no comment?” Emily asked you. “Yeah, or a string of swear words.” You shrug Spencer came in holding two cups of coffee. “Thanks pretty boy.” Morgan smiled reaching for the cup “Oh it’s not for you it’s for Y/N/N.” Spencer smiled handing you a cup “Ooh thanks Spence.” You smile taking the cup. Morgan looked at Spencer, “You always buy me coffee.” He said pretending to be a little hurt. “Well, in the 8 years I’ve been at the FBI, you have only brought me coffee 8 times, and I have brought you coffee 16 times. Y/N/N however brought me coffee and donuts upon our first meeting therefore she has the advantage over you.” Spencer said and sipped his coffee. “Is that the way to your heart Spence? Buy you donuts?” You ask Spencer nodded smiling as the team give each-other ‘the look’. “Here’s that file you asked for.” You say to Hotch after it finally prints, it’s about 30 pages in total. “Reid... Can you?” Hotch asked Spencer sighed and took the file. “I’ll give you the DL.” He said “DL?” Hotch asked “Downlow, summary.” You say assuming that is what Spencer meant “I was trying to be cool.” Spencer mumbled “You are plenty cool kid.” Rossi laughed “If you want answers out of him, question his foster families and experiences there.” Spencer said, “It could trigger him, but it could also get a confession. Also, he was closest to his foster Mum 5. Debbie, who passed away recently.” He handed back the file. “Thanks Dr Reid.” Mac said as Hotch nods. “Dr Y/S/N, could I have a word with you later?” Hotch asks “Yeah, sure.” You smile, wondering what it is about. “Have I done something wrong?” You ask “No, far from it.” Hotch said returning the smile “Hotch just smiled, he must really like Dr Y/S/N.” Morgan said on the phone to Penelope “Chocolate thunder, I want all the details. Keep me posted. Ciao.” Penelope giggled having done her research on you. “Bye baby girl.” Morgan says and hangs up “Y/N could you maybe give Drew a shot? He doesn’t seem to pay attention to us.” Hotch asked as he came back with Mac. “Yeah sure.” You say getting up “Hotch, this guy is huge, he could crush her with one push.” Morgan said “She can handle it.” Mac said, “You ok Y/N?” You stretch your muscles. “Yeah I’m great, just doing some stretching because it helps keep my brain limber.” You say and stretch your legs. Everyone looks at you confused, except Spencer who looks at you in awe. “Nice socks.” Spencer smiled, noticing they are mismatched. “Thanks.” You smile at your polka dot one and stripes one. “What socks are you wearing?” You ask tying your shoelace of your trainers. “One of dinosaurs and one of pumpkins. The classics.” Spencer smiled as Mac handed you Drew’s file. “Do you want company in the room?” “Nah, I’m good but you can watch from behind the glass in case I need back up.” You wink as Spencer’s cheeks flush. “Are you coming?” You ask walking to the room. Spencer gets out of his chair and follows you, as you walk you share Maths theories with Spencer. “Did anyone get a word of that?” Emily asked “The last thing I understood was their socks discussion.” J.J said shrugging “I don’t even understand half of the words she uses, sometimes, between us I have to research what she means after hours.” Mac laughed as a forensics analyst handed him something. “Y/N/N!” He called just before you walked in the room “Yeah?” You smile “Fingerprints match his. We have him.” He says and you nod as Mac goes back and tells the rest of the teams. “We got the bastard.” Morgan said “Drew, I’m Doctor Y/S/N, I just have a few more questions.” You say sitting down as Spencer watches you from behind the glass, the guy is huge. “Shoot lady.” Drew smirked “Tell me about your childhood, and Debbie.” You say “There’s nothing to tell, I’m sure that file tells you everything you need to know.” Drew said, loosing the smirk instantly. “And what about Debbie?” You ask “She was my foster Mom, the only one who liked me. But she got sick.” Drew said “That must’ve been tough.” You say, “The doctor mis-diagnosed her, didn’t he? Made you feel rage.” “Yeah but I didn’t kill anyone over it.” Drew admitted “So, why are your fingerprints on the weapon found at the last scene?” You ask “Well, that escalated fast.” Spencer says as Morgan, Hotch and Mac come into the room. “They’re not mine.” Drew said to you “Oh, who do they belong to? The guy we have downstairs for drunk driving, or the guy in the room down the hall who shot an officer with an unlicensed weapon?” You ask innocently “Is she always like this? Sarcastic?” Hotch asked “She plays dumb, because she has a baby-face they assume she’s young and not really a detective, but she can usually get them talking once she’s snapped. Just wait.” Mac smirked “Yeah, it’s one of them lady. I’m clean.” Drew says “Clean as the blood on your right breast pocket?” You ask “It’s.. It’s not like that lady.” Drew stutters covering the blood. “I wonder if it matched the blood found out the crime scene… Could get a decent sample too.” You say putting your feet up on the desk, “But if you are so innocent, that could be wine.” “Shut up lady! Calm down!” Drew ends up shouting “This is calm, and it’s doctor. Sit down.” You say calmly, “Now let me test that wine for blood.” You say, “Take off the shirt.” You say giving him a bright pink one to wear. Everyone laughs from behind the glass, “Oh she’s good.” Hotch smirked You put gloves on and do a test on the shirt. “Didn’t realise you could get human blood wine, where did you buy it?” You ask once the test comes back positive for human blood. “Is there anything she doesn’t know?” Spencer asked Mac noticing you know your way around forensics “How to get a boyfriend.” Mac said “Okay okay, I did it! I did all of them. Lock me up.” Drew said “Aww, because you asked so nicely. Get up.” You say as Drew gets up but headbutts you and kicks your knees in the process as you crash to the floor. “You’ll regret that.” You say with a busted lip and put him in cuffs as everyone runs in. “You ok?” Spencer asked you “Oh yeah, that’s nothing.” You shrug, handing him over to Mac then go to the bathroom to clean up limping a little. “That’s nothing?” Spencer asked in a slightly high-pitched voice. “Once a suspect pushed her so hard, she broke her back, had therapy and she still showed up to work in a wheelchair.” Flack said “When was this?” Hotch asked “She was 21. She’s from a rough neighbourhood so she does herself proud every-day.” Mac said “Can we have a word in your office?” Hotch asked Mack who nodded, thinking he knows where this is going. “I’m going to check on Y/N/N.” Spencer said as he eventually found the bathroom. “Hey Y/N/N, you okay?” He asks softly as you come out “Yeah. Coming!” You say walking out all patched up. “You good?” You ask “I should be asking you; you had your head butted into. You should get it checked out.” Spencer said worried “First respondent said I’m good, and for someone I met today, you seem very worried about me, it’s almost adorable.” You admit biting your lip then wince forgetting you’d hurt yourself. “Fuck.” You grumble at your stupidity as Spencer laughs “Almost adorable?” Spencer asked with a raised eyebrow “What’s going on?” Morgan asked a little too loud as Rossi, J.J and Emily were watching “Ssssh.” Emily said putting a finger to Morgan’s lips “Okay, a lot adorable.” You say blushing In Mac’s office “No, absolutely not. She’s my best detective.” Mac shouted to Hotch as he kept shaking his head, “I’m not letting her go.” “You told Rossi she needed to get out there, I think this would be great for her.” Hotch shouted back “I meant settle down, get a boyfriend, have kids. Not leave New York.” Mac said “The change would suit her.” Hotch said, “And at the end of the day it’s her decision.” J.J knocks on the door, “Hotch, we’re all going to Shaw’s for a beer. You both coming?” She smiles “We’ll be there soon.” Mac said as J.J nods, closing the door on her way out. “Regardless of what you say, I’m making my offer.” Hotch said At the bar “Any idea what they were on about in there? Shouting match or what?” You say to Spencer. “No idea.” Spencer lied, “What do you want to drink?” “Just a pint of the house beer.” You say handing over the money. “What are you doing?” Spencer asked “Er, paying for my own drink because screw the gentlemen pays.” You say “Y/N/N, you got kicked and pushed to the floor today. I can buy you a beer for that.” Spencer said, “Two pints of the house beer please.” He told the barman who nods “I’ll buy some snacks then. Whatcha want Doctor?” You ask eyeing up the fries on the menu. “Whatever you’re having Doctor.” Spencer smiled as Hotch and Mac come in, Mac still looking cross and Hotch looking smug. “Mac, what’s up?” You ask him “Nothing.” Mack lied “Don’t bullshit me. We’re off the clock.” You say to him as Mac walks off and goes outside for some air, “Just some crisps and nuts please.” You tell the barman and pay then find a seat with Spencer “Dr Y/N, can we talk?” Hotch asked just as you sat down “Yeah sure.” You say and walk off with him, leaving your drink on the table “Oooh, it’s happening.” Emily said pouring herself a glass of wine from the bottle “What’s happening?” Spencer asked sipping his drink “We’re getting a new agent.” J.J smiled Spencer smiles to himself and sips his drink. “So, Y/N. I was talking to Mac, and as much as he really doesn’t want to let you go... I’d like to make you an offer anyway.” Hotch began “Offer?�� You ask “We have a position for an agent at the FBI, with us. You are overqualified, but I think you’d like it. You understand the work, and even used our terminology on your case. We don’t see that every-day.” Hotch said, “Plus you wouldn’t be in New York every-day. We travel a lot, but we are a family.” You look at Mac, and your team there, then to the FBI. You have debated about leaving for a year, not because of the people but wanting a change, and this could be the one you need. You then look at Spencer, who looks a little sad. “What if she doesn’t take it?” Spencer asked “I think she will.” Morgan said sipping his drink Suddenly, you and Hotch walk back. “Well?” Emily asked “Looks like I need a new badge.” You say with a smile Everyone cheers. “I’m sorry to see you go Y/N/N but please visit.” Mac said “Course.” You smile. “Hey, can we have a word?” Spencer asked you You nod, confused. “Everyone wants words with me tonight.” You laugh as Spencer and you go outside “Do you think?” Rossi asked “Oh yeah. Pretty boy about to ask baby girl genius out.” Morgan said “Everything okay Spence?” You ask once you get outside. “Yeah, I mean… No… I mean, want to go out with me on a date?” Spencer blurted out then gasped. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that, but I did. But if you don’t want to that’s fine.” He says going through all the emotions of a menopausal woman at once. “Every time a pretty face comes pops up your brain turns into a god damn potato. Prentiss is right, my IQ lowers from 187 to 60.” You quickly grab his arm gently. “Hey... Let me answer before you get yourself in a tizz.” Spencer calms down at your touch, which he finds strange, not really liking being touched but when you do it, it makes him feel, safe almost. “Okay... okay...” Spencer says looking at you “Yes.” You smile and kiss his cheek. “Want to sneak off and grab some pizza? I have a lot of packing to do. Hotch wants me to start in two weeks.” Spencer nods smiling as you do just that. “Where are the pretty people at?” Morgan asked noticing you’ve been a while. “I don’t think they’re coming back.” Rossi winked. “Ooooh.” Emily and J.J smirked “So, what pizza can I get you Spence?” You smile. “I’m going for four cheese.” “That’s fine with me.” Spencer smiled at you, “Does this count as a date?” “If you want it to.” You say and place your order “I do.” Spencer smiled “Me too.” You say and pay for the pizza “I should pay half.” Spencer said feeling bad “You’re good, you can always buy ice cream if you want.” You assure him Spencer nods, as you walk around New York eating pizza. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but would you like to come to my flat and have a nightcap?” You suggest as you finish your ice cream “I’d like that.” Spencer smiled, “But I’d like to do one thing first.” He said having a desire to kiss you there and then. “And that is?” You ask Spencer puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses you deeply. “Oh.” You giggle, pulling away after a few moments Spencer giggles too, “Told you it’s safer to kiss.” You walk to your flat, and let Spencer in. It’s fairly small with a double bed, en-suite, a kitchen and a small library. “I don’t normally have people back to my place on the first date. But I think there’s something special about you Dr Reid.” You say locking the door once Spencer walks in and takes his shoes off. “There’s something special about you too Dr Y/S/N.” Spencer says, “Can I take a seat?” He asks gesturing to your two-seater sofa “Of course. You okay with whiskey or scotch on the rocks?” You ask getting two glasses down “Scotch please.” Spencer said looking at your bum when your back was turned You bring the glasses over and sit next to him, “Can I tell and ask you something Spence?” “Of course Y/N/N.” Spencer says, “Thanks.” He says taking the glass “It’s more of an observation, but I’ve noticed you don’t like physical touch, but when I’ve done it, you go from tense, to relaxed in seconds. Why?” You ask sipping your scotch “I feel safe around you, and I don’t feel like that around many people.” Spencer admitted “Do you want to kiss again?” You blurt out and finish your drink quickly in-case Spencer says no “I do.” Spencer smiled and finished his drink and pulled you in for a kiss

After a few more drinks, you end up having sex with Spencer.

Spencer pulled out of you gently and wrapped the condom up and put it in the bin. “That was amazing.” He says as you cuddle into his arms glad Morgan slipped him that condom earlier. Even though you were on the pill, Spencer wanted to be extra safe. You nod agreeing, “Aren’t your team wondering where you are?” as you trace little patterns on his chest with your finger. Spencer checks his phone, as a text comes through from Hotch ‘Plane leaves at 2PM tomorrow, as Mac and I have some paperwork to sort out for Y/N’s transfer. Meet us at the Police Station at 12PM.’ He then shows the text to you. You nod, “Least we don’t have to be in early.” As Mac texts you that you need to be in at 12 to sign the papers and get a new badge. Spencer smirks, as Morgan texts him, ‘You got laid didn’t you pretty boy?’ and replies, ‘Yep.’ And turns his attention back to you. “You comfy?” He asks wrapping the duvet over your shoulder You nod, “Stay the night if you want.” “Doctor’s orders?” Spencer asked “Doctor’s orders.” You yawn and fall asleep as does Spencer. Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner​ , @gubler-me-up​ , @trina2323 , @goldentournesol​ , @jenna-jd​ , @reidgraygubler​ , @g0ldengubler​ , @gcblers​ , @peachpitfics​ 

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 12

A/N: here you go lovelies! Thank you so much for the support and love as always and I hope you guys enjoy this one.... don’t kill me and try to survive the bomb shells heheh ;) 

love always xx

I glance over at the clock to find that it’s 5am as the sun begins to creep in through the gaps in my curtains, obnoxiously reminding me that I haven’t slept one wink. I have, however, played last nights events on a continuous loop and nearly given myself several panic attacks. That doesn’t leave much room for resting. And the impending dread of knowing that every minute that passes by is another minute closer to Charlie returning home and me having to look him in the eye also doesn’t really inspire one to sleep either.

I have grown all too familiar with the feeling of being cheated on. Of being abandoned. Lied to. Rejected. Of having your self esteem ripped from you and the rug pulled from under your feet. The questioning yourself. Your relationship. If it was ever real. I know it all. But the feeling of being the person who has done the cheating is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I don’t know if understanding this has me feeling sympathetic for Michael or hating him even more.  

But how could I hate him? Now I am just like him. I am no better. And I am certainly in no position to. Michael may have kissed me, but I kissed him back.

Then the most dreaded thought that I have been trying to push down and keep at bay for hours on end finally creeps it’s way to the fore front of my mind. Loud and obnoxious and shrouding me in shame and disgust.

Maybe I feel so horrible because part of me know’s that I don’t regret it. I don’t regret it at all.

That thought alone makes my skin crawl at the thought that I am that kind of person that I cannot physically lay here anymore. Giving up completely I haul myself out of bed and storm to the kitchen to busy myself with a coffee. Not that I need it. I’ve got enough adrenaline and cortisol pumping through my body that I won’t need caffeine for a week.

My hands shake as I try to fix myself breakfast. I desperately want to wash away the taste of Michael on my lips, but I can’t get anything down. I’m far to wound up. I give up on trying to stomach anything when my mouth and throat are so dry from anxiety that I can barely swallow.

So I just pace my apartment instead. Changing my outfit twice, cleaning the same furniture over and over again. Re arranging the flowers in their vases. My skin clammy and cold. On my laps of my apartment I can’t stop myself from passing by the window every few minutes. Holding my breath every single time in dread that I will see Charlie’s car down there and I will have to face it. I can’t even go in the lounge room, let alone look at it. Every time I catch a glimpse, see it in peripheral vision I swear to god I can Michael and I there. It all comes flooding back. Every time I close my eyes, even so much as blinking brings it all back. Like it’s etched inside my eyelids and I can’t get away from it. I can’t even stand the way my clothes cling to my skin, hugging my hips and curves, the same way Michael did. I can even feel his hands up in my hair and on my face.

I must have actually been successful at distracting myself, cleaning my kitchen for what feels like the 5th time today. Because I don’t even hear Charlie’s car pull up in the street, I have no clue he’s home until I heard my apartment door unlocking and opening.

The sound makes me practically jump out of my skin and I can’t wipe the stunned ‘looks like I’ve just seen a ghost’ look of my face as he walks in, brief cases in hand and beaming smile. I physically feel the blood drain from my face.

“Surprise!” He holds his arms out, grinning at me as he drops his bags and walked over to me.

“You’re back early” is all I manage to get out as he pulls me into his embrace.

“Don’t sound too excited” he chuckles, picking up on my complete lack of enthusiasm. I can’t blame him, I’m not doing the best job at hiding it.

“Sorry I just-“ I fumble for the right words “I guess I’m still just in shock from yesterday”

“Right, the deal” he begins, nodding “I thought so. That’s why I came back early”

Yeah… the deal… To be honest that was the last thing on my mind. I think I was referring to the shock from almost being killed and Michael kissing me. Let alone the fact that Charlie wants me to move three hours away with him onto the list.

“I was thinking about it and I realised I kind of sprung that on you” he bites his lip sheepishly “ I know I freaked you out on the phone, I mean moving three hours away is a big ask and I know we’ve only been together for a month Izzy but-“

I swallow hard. If only that was all I was worried about. Worrying about moving three hours away. That would have been so goddamn simple. Suddenly feeling faint I try to step back from him, reaching out for the kitchen counter to steady myself.

“Hey, hey” he runs his hands up my arms before they finally land on my face, holding me gently “I’m sorry, you don’t have to pack right now, we have time to talk about this”

He continues talking, but as I stare up at him it all drowns out into the background. All I can see and all I can feel is Michael. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. But even Charlie’s hands on my face take me back to last night. His face so close to mine. His breath on my face. As each moment passes my skin crawls, hot and prickling like needles poking at me all over. I can feel myself trying to smile and nod at him, but I just can’t. The memories of last night race across my mind as my heart pounds in my chest. I can feel my chest rising and falling faster and faster until I’m all but hyperventilating.

I can’t take this. I can’t do it. I just want to scream.

“I can’t do this” I blurt out in a harsh exhale as I finally break. Finally snapping. I can’t take this anymore. I take his hands in mine and pull them away from my face as I tear myself from him, backing away to the other side of the kitchen.

He stares at me, wide and in shock as I run my hands through my hair, trying to steady my heart rate.

This is it. I can’t hide from this anymore.

“Izzy” he breathes “What’s going on?”

The way he stares at me breaks my heart. He looks completely lost. Like he’s staring at a person he doesn’t know anymore. Like he doesn’t know who this girl is. And to be honest, I don’t even know who I am right now either. But just as quickly as that look falls over of his face, it’s gone again. Replaced by another look. One of… calm. Understanding. Like he know’s something about me that even I don’t know.

“There’s someone else in your heart”

As the words leave his mouth they cut me deep, gutting me so heavily they almost leave me winded. Then I realise he’s not asking me. No. He’s… telling me. As if he already knew. Not even sure of what I’m going to say I open my mouth, ready to launch into anything and everything I could possibly say to explain myself.

“I’m so sorry” is the only thing I can manage to get out past the growing lump in my throat. I think my apology is enough confirmation for his suspicions.

“I think I’ve known the whole time��� I just didn’t want it to be real”

Known what the whole time? My mind races. I’ve never mentioned Michael once. He’s never even met him.

“The man from the ball, with the American wife… who is he?”

I sigh. He knew from the first night I met him. He knew that I was always hung up on Michael. And it hurts. It’s hurts because he’s right. That Charlie could see it before I could. I fell in love with Michael on the day I met him 5 years ago. And I have loved him every day since then. Through it all. Through the distance. The cheating. Through everything.

How was I ever so foolish to try and think that I could move on with someone else. Trying to fix myself with someone else. Trying to fill the void. Shouldn’t I have known that I would only be hurting us both.

The only way I can even come close to doing the right thing is explaining it all. From the beginning. Giving him the explanation and closure he is owed. It won’t take anything back. Or fix anything. But he deserves to know. From day one up until right here in this kitchen. I owe him that much.

“You don’t owe me anything, you can leave right now” I begin, my lip trembling as I push out the words “But if you just give me a moment to explain. You deserve that much”

He stares at me for a moment. I expect him to be angry. To scream. Yell. Tell me hates me. But he doesn’t. He stays quiet as he digests it all. Nodding slowly, he goes over to the lounge and takes a seat. I follow him wearily, lowering myself onto the lounge next to him.

I close my eyes, taking a deep shaky breath before I jump into my history. I give up trying to hold back. Now is not the time for holding back.

He watches me closely, examining and reading every micro expression on my face.

“His name is Michael” I breathe “We were together for four years, it would have been 5 years yesterday”

“Four years” he echoes, the enormity of it all dawning on him. Four years is a long time. Long enough for someone to have stained every part of you. For them to have worked their way into every part of you. That takes a lot of time to unravel. To unravel that person from you, and he knows it.

“He um, he was sent to America last year to head the Shelby Company over there. He didn’t know when he would be able to come back home and well, I guess things changed when he was over there. Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder but, I guess not in his case” I shake my head before continuing “He cut off all communication. With me, with the family. We had no clue why. And every day I waited. Every day for 6 months. I waited to hear from him. For a letter. A call. Anything. It felt like I held my breath for 6 months, praying he would come home and explain everything away. Apologise. And everything would be okay”

“But he did come back?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

“Yes he did. He showed up out of the blue. None of us had any idea he was coming home. When I saw him at the train station that day, it was the best moment of my life until it very quickly became the worst. Because he had returned, but he wasn’t alone. He had a wife. Gina”

“Jesus…” Charlie exclaims softly as he puts two and two together “That’s the American woman from the ball”

I nod, confirming his statement.

“What happened? I mean, how does that happen?” He stutters, unable to comprehend how someone could do that to another person.

“I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself that for the past two months. He just went… cold. He looked at me like we were never in love. Like he barely even knew me. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to deal with all of this. How to get him out of my goddamn head. But I- ”

“But you never stopped loving him” He interrupts me with a sad but genuine smile.

I look over at him. I shake my head slowly. By now my eyes have succumbed to welling with tears. He is right. I never stopped. I never have.

“I didn’t sleep with him” I breathe, struggling to even suggest such a thing “Yesterday there was an altercation at the office. There was a man, he had a gun, things got heated. Michael was there, all the Shelby’s were. He had the gun to my head and-“

“What?” Charlie’s eyes shoot wide open as panic is slapped across his face.

“It’s okay, I’m okay” I calm him “But I was shaken up. The doctor said I shouldn’t be alone and Michael stayed to keep an eye on me. He insisted. He wouldn’t take me out of his eye sight for even a second. Something changed. In the office, when the man had the gun to my head. Something changed between Michael and I. Like he’s had this cold exterior but he couldn’t keep it up any longer. He kissed me and…”

I shut my eyes as the words leave my mouth. I can’t even look at him. I know by now that he won’t yell. He won’t get angry. That’s not Charlie’s way. But that doesn’t make the guilt and shame feel any less. In fact, I think it makes it worse. Because I know I don’t deserve the kindness.

“Because he still loves you Izzy” Charlie blurts out “Did you ever think maybe the reason he pushed you away wasn’t because he hates you. The exact opposite, actually”

I shoot my eyes open, looking over at him in disbelief.

“Izzy” he begins “That stuff, all those years, that doesn’t just go away. And I should have known it. That night at the ball I saw you at the table. I saw how you looked at Michael. I should have known that feelings like that don’t go away”

“Listen to me” I shake my head at him “Don’t you doubt for one second, how I feel about you. Because I don’t. You are one of the best people I have ever met. But I am a fool. Because my heart isn’t ready, I am not ready. I am not okay. And I was stupid for trying to fix myself by getting into a relationship with you. I have only hurt you. But don’t you ever question what I felt for you, please. I want to tell you to stay. I want to move away with you. I want to love you. But I just-”

“You can’t force your heart to feel what it doesn’t” He nods, giving me a small smile “I would be the fool if I tried to get in the way of you and Michael. My feelings for you grew faster than I ever expected them to. I just want you to be happy Izzy, I can’t stand in the way of that”

Unable to hold it in anymore, sobs begin tumbling their way out of my mouth. Charlie embraces me immediately.

“Izzy look at me” He holds my face, brushing my wet cheeks with his thumbs “It’s okay”

“What are you going to do?” I cry, heart breaking at the thought that he had factored me into his life and now he has to remove me again.

“I don’t know” he shakes his head “I’m gonna take that deal I guess”

“Oh my god the deal!” I exclaim, remembering that I haven’t even congratulated him yet “I told you you were gonna be great” I chuckle through sniffles and he returns a grin.

“Yes you did” he nods, chuckling.

“I’m so proud of you” I smile, placing a gentle hand on his face “You’re gonna be amazing up there”

“You think so?”

“I know so”

“Will you promise me something?” He bites his lip “We can still be friends? If you’re ever coming up that way, visit me?”

“I promise” I nod my head without even a moments hesitation “You’re not getting rid of me that easily”

We stare at one another for a moment in a mutual understanding. Maybe we haven’t found a love in each other. We haven’t found a soulmate. A forever. But we have found a friend. And I will love this man for the rest of my life. I will be grateful for him forever.

“I should go” he looks down, before we both get up off the couch and take our final march to the door. With his brief cases in hand, we stand in the door way in silence. We know this is done. We know this is over. But dragging it out feels so much easier.

“Goodbye Izzy” he breathes, and I rush forward, hugging him so tightly it shoots pain all up through my bruising back. But I don’t care. He hugs me back just as tightly.

“I’ll speak to you soon, I wanna know how you go up there, out in the big world” I grin, fighting back tears.

“I can’t wait” he smiles down at me.

And with that, with one more long, final hug, he leaves.

After he’s gone, I stand in the door way for a while. Just thinking. Digesting. I stand there as I hear his car door close and hear the wheels turn on the gravel, as he drives out of my street.

Charlie changed me for the better. He came along into my life when I expected it least but needed it most. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to live with myself for doing this to him. But I know I couldn’t live the rest of my life looking at him and seeing Michael. Kissing him and tasting Michael. He doesn’t deserve it. Charlie gives his all. And he deserves someone who can give their all back. I will always love him in some way, but not in the way he needs. Maybe now without me, he has a chance at finding that. I hope next time I see him he as met a beautiful woman. Maybe they’re engaged. Married even. With a son on the way. The thought warms my heart. Maybe the kindest thing I could do to Charlie was to let him go. And let him find that life. Whatever happens between Michael and I, at least I know Charlie is going to be okay.

Or at least that’s what I try to tell myself. To feel better about it all. To feel better about the fact that I just let an amazing man walk out of my life all for someone who I just cannot get over. All on a whim. On one kiss. But Charlie seem’s to think that Michael and I are worth betting on. Some how, everyone around us seems to be able to figure out whats going on except the two people involved - Michael and I. Everyone seems to have us figured out except ourselves.  

I think about Charlie all night until I manage to fall asleep just past midnight, pure exhaustion sending me into a deep sleep.

THE NEXT DAY

The goddamn mail. I could have avoided the Shelby house for another few days at least to pull myself together and figure out what I’m going to say to Michael for the first time since our kiss. But no. Because today the mail needs to be posted otherwise important correspondences won’t find their way into the clutches of some very important business partners in enough time.

I basically run to the Shelby house, every single thought is just praying that no one will be there. It’s a Saturday after all. I just need to get the mail from the desk and leave. I’ll be in there at 5 minutes tops.

When I slink into the house, desperately trying not to make a noise, the whole place is silent. On the floor boards creak lightly as I prance over to the stacks of mail that I have let pile up through my own procrastination and avoidance.

See when Charlie left, I didn’t have a plan. I wasn’t going to storm into Michael’s house and profess my undying love. To be honest, I don’t know if I have anything to say at all. So my plan became what it has been since the day Michael returned - avoid him like my life depends on it. And I hate myself for that. For the fact that putting Charlie through all that pain, that the kiss, that every moment of tension and build up of anticipation with Michael could all have been for nothing because I’m to scared to find out. So that means letting the mail pile up to un godly height that will probably cost a fortune to ship all at once… then so be it.

With the sizeable stack of letters in my clutch, I turn on my heels and sneak back to the door before the faintest sound catches my attention. My hand is on the door handle, and I’m almost out of the house but the noise gets louder. I furrow my brows as I try to decipher what the noise is. As it gets louder, I realise it sounds like rustling. Like someone frantically sorting through something.

I swear to god if this is nothing I’m going to kick myself. But I just can’t leave. I don’t know who is in here with me. I all but roll my eyes in irritation as I turn on my feels and head for the sound. The thought crosses my mind that it could be robber. Someone trying to rip off the Shelby family. But I don’t know who on earth would try that. This place is like Fort Knox. Only people who have keys - and that is a very small group of people - can get in here. You couldn’t break in to this place without making a hell of a lot of noise.

As I follow the noise through the house, I realise that I’m being led straight for the kitchen. But my suspicions don’t go un answered for very long, when I round the corner and step into the kitchen doorway to find Gina, frantically searching through the draws and cabinets. No sooner do my eyes fall over her, they quickly flicker to the countless medication bottles sprawled out all over the kitchen bench.

What the hell is she doing with all this medication?

“What are you doing?” I blurt out, confused and concerned as Gina searches desperately.

“Fuck!” Gina curses in shock as she gets busted, then rolls her eyes when she realises that it’s me “Of course you’re here”

“Yeah don’t worry, the feelings mutual” I mutter, before she turning my attention back to the mediations everywhere “You didn’t answer my question”

“What are you doing?” Gina spits back, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

I hold up the letters I was looking for to send in the mail, raising my brows.  She sighs, hoping that she would be able to change the topic onto what I was doing.

“Your turn” I say.

I watch her suspiciously. I normally wouldn’t bother. But she looks like a mess, and catching someone rummaging through bottles of medication frantically alone in a house isn’t exactly an innocent act.

She opens her mouth to speak, when suddenly a panicked look falls over her face. She blinks rapidly, before covering her mouth with one hand and clutching at her stomach with the other.

I furrow my brows, looking her up and down “Gina?” I say, growing more concerned and confused as the seconds pass.

Suddenly, she takes off from the kitchen. Stunned, I begin to run after her. Down the hall ways I follow the sound of her heavy footsteps through the until I finally reach the bathroom. I stop abruptly in the door way to find her bent over the toilet, throwing up violently. I rush forwards to hold her hair out of the way, but she swats me away.

“Get off me!” She strains, before being sick again.

I stand back, everything coming together in my mind as she sits draped over the toilet, catching her breath.

“Gina…” I say quietly “You’re pregnant”

I know I’m right with the grave look she gives me when she pulls herself away from the toilet. She sits with her back against the bathroom wall, staring straight ahead.

“Congratulations, you figured it out” she says sarcastically.

“Gina, I-“ I shake my head, not knowing what to say “How long have you been sick for?”

“Why the fuck do you care?” She hisses, shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

“Trust me, I don’t. But if you’ve been this sick for a while you might be dehydrated, you need fluids” I tell her matter of factly.

“It hasn’t been this bad before. I’ve been sick every morning this week”

“And Michael hasn’t taken you to the hospital?!” I exclaim, baffled by how nonchalant she’s acting. Why wouldn’t Michael be more concerned? He’s seen Esme pregnant, Lizzie, Ada. He should know that this isn’t normal.

When the words leave my mouth she doesn’t say anything. She just keeps staring straight ahead, her eyes tired and dark.

“How far along are you?” I press her with another question.

“12 weeks, doctor” she replies dryly.

I continue to watch her, unable to figure out why she is acting so… off. So strange. Gina would love to rub this in my face. That Michael is having his first child with her and not with me. And Polly, Polly knows everything. If Michael is trying to hide it, she would still know. She could get a secret out of Michael in a second. My mind continues to run rampant with questions.

“Gina… Who knows about this?”

And again, she looks up at me with that dark, grave look on her face.

It’s not Michael keeping the secret. It’s Gina.

“He doesn’t know” I breathe and she nods her head slowly.

“Ding Ding” she scoffs.

I kneel in front of her, but she just stares straight ahead, emotionlessly.

“So I suppose you’re going to tell everyone then” she says, shaking her head slowly “Run to Michael and tell him that I’m pregnant. Then Tommy and Polly. And they will want me to get an abortion, no doubt”

I shake my head in utter confusion. She seriously thinks Polly and Tommy would force her to lose the baby?

“They’re not going to make you get an abortion, Gina. This is Michael’s child you’re carrying. I know you and Polly have your differences, but she’s a woman, a mother, too. And this is her grandchild”

She laughs tiredly, sighing afterwards. Then, her eyes meet mine. “Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought” She insults me “Why is that you think I’m 10 weeks and haven’t told Michael, huh?”

I reel back from her. Tracking the weeks back. 10 weeks. That would have been right before they left for Birmingham. I look at her, shaking my head. I don’t get her point.

“So you fell pregnant before you were married and convinced him to marry you on the ship so that you wouldn’t be having a baby out of wedlock… So why doesn’t Michael know, Gina?”

She shakes her head at me, at my confusion, before leaning forward slightly “I never said this is Michael’s baby”

My eyes widen, locked on hers. She sits back against the bathroom wall, keeping the eye contact with me.

“So there, aren’t you happy Izzy. The second they find out, I’m done for. And you and Michael can go back to being soulmates” she says mockingly.

I shake my head.

“Gina, what happened?” I ask softly. I thought part of me would want to see Gina go down in flames, and take Michael with her. But with her sitting here in front of me, revealing her darkest secret I feel… bad for her.

She looks away from me for a moment, and I can see her battling internally. When he continues to explain, I guess she realises that she has nothing to lose anymore.

“It was before we left for Birmingham. My ex got word that I was leaving, so he came and visited. I was emotional. I was scared of moving across the world. We had drinks. I don’t think I need to say what goes next…”

When I don’t respond, mostly out of shock, she continues with irritation.

“Jesus you’re persistent,” she rolls her eyes “Right towards the end of the trip I felt… off… more than usual sea sickness. I started to panic. I found a doctor on board. He told me I was pregnant. So I convinced Michael to marry me. On the ship. I was going to tell him that I was pregnant. Pretend it was his. But Michael is smart. He would know it wasn’t his”

My mouth parts and my brows furrow.

How would Michael know it isn’t his baby?

“What does that even mean Gina?”

“Do I really have to sound it out for you?” She hisses with a roll of her eyes “Don’t act stupid Izzy. Michael would know it’s not his baby because Michael hasn’t touched me since we got here. His eyes have been else where…”

She looks me up and down. Me? She’s referring to me?

“He loves you. I know it. You know it. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t want a bar of me. He hasn’t even noticed me starting to show…” as all of these words spill out of her mouth she looks sad. I don’t think I’ve never seen her sad. But it is quickly whisked away and covered up when she makes another smart ass remark.

“But I guess it’s alright isn’t it. Because I’m carrying another mans baby. No harm no foul, right?”

Suddenly someone comes in the front door downstairs. Our eyes both widen. As the footsteps come up the stairs I quickly rush to close us in the bathroom door. We wait quietly. The footsteps come down the hall and stop outside the door with a knock on the wood. Gina looks up at me desperately.

“Girls business!” I call to the person on the other side of the door.

“Well last time I checked I had tits” Polly’s voice says from the other side of the door. Suddenly the door opens to reveal us both looking nervously back at Polly.

“Well what the fuck is going on in here?” She asks, looking over me and Gina. You wouldn’t catch us in a room together if you tried. Let alone together voluntarily in the bathroom.

I glance at Gina whose staring at the floor, accepting defeat. But I don’t want it to happen this way. I don’t want Michael to have to find out this way. Through Polly. I can’t believe I’m doing it, but I begin to lie.

“Gina got sick… something she ate last night… I came in while she was sick and got her some tablets for the nausea-“

“Shut up Izzy” Gina’s voice says suddenly.

I look back at her with my eyes wide open. What is she about to do. I can protect her, give her more time to tell Michael herself, but not if she gives herself away. Polly looks at me suspiciously, and I know she’s wondering why would I be covering for Gina, of all people.

“I’m sick because I have morning sickness” She says pointedly at Polly “I’m pregnant, Polly”

Polly’s eyebrows raise, looking from between Gina and eye for more answers.

“Izzy came in while I was trying to find medication, then I started getting sick again, as you can see” she gestures to herself and the toilet.

I watch Polly carefully as she thinks.

“Well,” she begins, taking a deep breath “Congratulations… How far along are you?”

“12 weeks”

“12 weeks” Polly echoes, nodding “How long have you been sick for?”

“All week”

“Jesus,” Polly hisses “You need to get to a hospital Gina”

“I’ve been told” she looks over at me.

“I’ll call Michael. He should have known better than to leave you knowing how sick you are”

“Don’t call him” Gina shakes her head frantically

“And why not?” Polly presses

Polly looks at me, and I look back nervously.

What the hell is Gina about to say.

“Because it’s probably not the best way for him to find out”

“He doesn’t know?” Polly says slowly, trying very, very hard not to lose her cool.

I glare at Gina. Surely she isn’t about to tell Polly that this child isn’t Michael’s right here, right now in the goddamn bathroom.

She shakes her head “No, and I would appreciate if you let me tell him, please”

I all but release a giant sigh, trying to hide my obvious relief. That would have been catastrophic.

Polly nods slowly, but still looks confused. Suspicious. She always knows when something isn’t adding up. She looks over at me, but I can’t look at her. She will know I’m hiding something the second she see’s my eyes.

She watches us both for a few seconds, before speaking.

“I’m calling Michael. You can have your moment with him and tell him when he gets here. Then you need to go to the hospital”

There’s silence for a moment, before another voice fills the room.

“Tell me what?”

All of our heads turn suddenly to see Michael standing in the hallway.

TAGLIST

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[whentommymetalfie]

Breathe Again -Chapter twenty-one 

-Track of time- 

prologue//one//two//three//four//five//six//seven//eight//nine//ten//eleven/twelve/thirteen/fourteen/fifteen//sixteen//seventeen//eighteen//nineteen//twenty

Chapter Summary: Tommy continues to struggle with the news from Birmingham. And finally admits something to Alfie 

Wordcount: 3,9 K 

Warnings: suicidal ideation, disordered eating, discussions of mental illness, suicide and self harm, 

”Go on, the weather’s lovely. No snow yet, but it could happen any day now,” Esther says cheerily as she helps Tommy sit up on the bed. It’s one of those days when he needs it. Alfie has left the room, and he can hear him pacing in the hallway. Heavy, impatient steps.

“Come on, get your scrawny arse out of bed, Tommy, or I’m coming in there to fucking drag you out by the hair. Don’t think I won’t.”

Esther huffs and rolls her eyes, but chooses not to comment. He sits there on the bed with her arm still around his shoulders, held by the secure weight. She’s not very tall, Esther, but she’s strong and sturdy. Perhaps it’s out of pity, this embrace, but he can’t reject the touch. Starved, craves it.

Tommy rubs a hand over his stomach. He tried to eat breakfast but the mud was in the way-

Esther squeezes his shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

It’s too difficult answering questions like that, Esther knows and rephrases it. “Are you feeling sick?”

“He was sick, for a long time,” Michael Gray tells us when we meet him at his new office, “We’ve of course decided to keep it private, for the sake of the family. I took over more of the day to day work-“

Michael’s voice has become clear in his mind, an as real and solid presence as any of the others these past few days. It’s his own fault for reading the article so many times. Compulsively scratching a wound and refusing to let it scab over.

Esther asked a question.

He swallows thickly and manages, “No.”

Esther keeps rubbing his arm but he barely feels it.

Rumours have spread of Shelby’s deteriorating mental health, something Michael Gray only briefly touches upon-

“Are you sure? You’re looking quite pale.” She touches his forehead gently. The lines on her furrowed brow are blurred, everything around him seems to be enveloped in fog.

Michael’s voice continues to recite the article without missing a beat, “Unfortunately, the war left him with damages not even time could repair. And it began catching up with him. Which is how one can explain some of his less… rational decisions as of late.” One of these less than rational decision might be the choice to ally himself with Oswald Mosely, which-

He shakes his head, trying to erase the words, wishes they’d blur and fade like so many of the memories. They’re lodged like sharp pieces in his head. The worst parts he’s managed to wrap in enough fog to soften the edges. But bits and pieces still slip through.

“One has to remember they started with nothing, from an unfortunate background, so it’s no small feat, what Thomas has managed to do. Even if it’s been through questionable methods. Which of course is not something I can stand behind nor endorse, but it was before my time. Things are changing, now.”

Esther gently moves his hand away from his scar and places it in his lap instead.

“Are you sure you’re not feeling unwell?”  

He shakes his head. Tries to say something reassuring, something that will make her happy, but the dirt is in the way and all he manages is a croaked ‘tired’.  

Esther holds him closer. “I know, love. But it’ll do you good, getting some air.”

“We’ll go look at that tree you like so much, if you can manage it that far,” Alfie calls from the hallway. Heavy footsteps approach and soon he pops his head in through the doorway. Raises both eyebrows expectantly. His gaze softens when it takes in the sight.  

“Just a short walk, to get some air. You’ll feel better,” he says and comes to stand before the bed, towering above him in his large black coat. “One step at a time, eh?”

Why is it so fucking hard? it’s never going to be better, it’s too hard, all of it-

“Alright, up you go then. And let’s see if we can put some more clothing on you because pyjamas are entirely inappropriate attire in this weather.”  

When he’s pulled upright, he stumbles on unsteady feet. But Alfie doesn’t let him fall.

It does help, going outside. There’s no snow yet but the air is crisp and a layer of frost has encased the branches and the grass, making the world glimmer in the sunlight. It feels strange and nice, noticing it. And after smoking two cigarettes in quick succession, he can finally breathe. The mud has almost cleared away from his chest, his stomach, and instead there’s just frosty air with a smattering of salt. As usual, Alfie talks enough to drown out the sound of Michael reciting the article over and over again.

The sun is shining. And it’s daylight, many, many hours until nightfall when he has to lie there in the darkness and the voices become so much louder.

Alfie has a pleased smile on his face, as if this whole thing is a personal victory. Tommy likes it when he smiles. The realisation puzzles him. He glances at Alfie again, to make sure he isn’t mistaken. Watches as he scratches his beard absentmindedly, the rings glinting in the sunlight. His one good eye glints in the light too. Like this, he radiates peace and safety and Tommy wishes he could huddle into his coat, wants to be so close that his body melts together with Alfie’s.

When they get as far as the chestnut tree he’s so exhausted he has to rest. The past days inability to stomach anything at all hasn’t made him any stronger.

He promises himself to try harder with dinner.

“There you go, nice and easy, did so well, didn’t ya´? Didn’t faint or even swoon the tiniest bit,” Alfie mutters as he leans against the trunk of the tree.  

He steps back to give him a onceover and Tommy’s hand instinctively shoots out grasp his coat sleeve. The moment his fingers close around the fabric he’s flooded with regret, but Alfie doesn’t seem to mind. That pleased smile is back on his face.

“Look at that, quite nice innit?” he says and nods upwards, where the sun is shining down between the branches. he closes his eyes and focuses on the rays warming his face.

When he opens them again, Alfie is watching him.

Alfie has a way of looking at him that makes something flutter in his chest. The scrutiny can become uncomfortably intense sometimes. Especially on those days when he’s all too aware of what he’s been reduced to, when he looks down at his awful hands and the ugliness seems to cling to his skin- But not when Alfie’s eyes are soft, like this. When he looks at him as if he’s-  

“The same way you’d look at an abandoned fawn you found in the woods, with a broken leg,” Grace muses. “And you’re considering whether to shoot it or not, to end its suffering-“

Alfie’s hand comes up to cup his face. His rings feel cool against his cheek, but his skin is warm.

“You alright? Seems like something crossed your mind just then.”

“I’m fine.”  

He wishes he could be more for Alfie. That he could do something to earn the affection he desperately craves. He’s not enough.

“You’ve never been enough for anyone. Never been able to offer anything-“

He closes his eyes, like a child trying to hide. As if he could disappear.  

“Why do you think they never came to see you?”

“Tommy, hey,” Alfie holds his head a little firmer. “Eyes on me. Go on.”

He obeys, clings harder to his coat and tries to focus on the warmth of his hands.

“Whatever they’re saying, I suggest you try and listen to me instead. Yeah?”

Alfie accepts the tiny nod he manages as the only answer. Rubs his thumb up and down his jaw. Frowns. Tommy tries to count the creases on his forehead in search of distractions. They smooth out a little when Alfie makes up his mind and says, “Think that’ll have to be enough for today. Let’s get you home.”

He wraps an arm around his waist (“Just to keep you steady, eh, Tommy?”) and sets off down the path towards the house.  

The sun still shines. Alfie lights another cigarette for him and then he tells him the intricate details of how swallows build their nests. Tommy leans in, ducks his head until it’s almost resting against Alfie’s shoulder. His coat smells like pipe tobacco and salty air. Alfie squeezes his waist.

Right then he wishes he could freeze the moment and stay in it forever.

…

He still takes refuge in the living room at night, when the nightmares wake him up. The past few days it’s happened too often.

Alfie tells him to wake him up instead, but he can’t. Reaching across the mattress and shaking him feels impossible, asking, demanding too much. He’s promised he won’t get angry but people lie, don’t they? We’re only trying to help, Tommy, we won’t hurt you, we’ll take care of you, you just need to rest, Tommy, rest, sleep, and it’ll get better, there’s no bullet there, all healed, see, look for yourself, nothing there, you just need to rest-

“This is why you need to listen to me.” Grace’s soft voice is clear among all the others. “You can trust me.”

It’s childish and naïve, thinking he’d be able to hide from her, from any of them, simply by leaving the bedroom. They follow, always know where he is. Grace is stood in the corner, by the bookshelves. The crow is behind her, on its perch on the shelf, still now, staring at him with glassy eyes,

still and dead.

“It’s not real,” Alfie reminds him. “Or well, it’s real, innit, but it’s not alive. Alright?”

And Grace is not real, he knows, he knows and still it doesn’t help because in the dark it’s hard to know for sure- and does it matter, when he knows she’s telling the truth? Real or not.

The darkness makes everything worse.

The darkness, knowing everyone else in the world is asleep, the sheer loneliness of it all. Even if Alfie is only seconds away. Esther too. He could be the only one left in the entire world and it wouldn’t make a difference.

“Please come wake me up if you need to, Tommy,” Esther keeps saying. A bit like Alfie, but gentler in her insistences. “It’s fine. I’ll sleep better knowing you feel safe.”

He usually nods, yes, he’ll come wake her up, even if he has no intention to. He wishes he could.

“I’m trying to care for him, but nothing seems to help,” Lizzie’s voice comes from the corridor, through a tiny gap between the door and the frame that casts a thin strip of light onto the dark bedroom floor. “I only seem to make things worse.”

“Not to worry, mrs Shelby, this is why I’m here. To help. Your husband is very sick, and it’s difficult, caring for someone in that position.”

“I can’t get him to eat. At all. Barely get him to drink either.”

“That is concerning, of course, but there are measures we could take-“

“And it seems like he never sleeps. He just lies there, staring at nothing and-”

He can’t wake Esther up either.

He’s already a burden, doesn’t want to make it worse. Knows because of their tired eyes, each time they have to lead him back to bed, the same tired eyes Lizzie had, they

“-don’t understand, don’t know how to help you, Tommy-“

That’s why they were sending him away, to that place the voices spoke about behind the door, where they don’t have to see, don’t have to be bothered, they can safely forget and move on. Build their lives back up, bricks upon bricks, it’ll be easy to fill the hole until it’s as if he were never there they’ll be happy to be rid of it

The pain is fresh and raw, torn up again by the words in the paper, the glimpse into a life he doesn’t have anymore, perhaps never had, just clung to with a white knuckled grip

“For how long can you keep doing this?”

How long? Imagining the rest of his life stretched out in an endless string of days has installed nothing but terror in him for so long.

The pain makes his body seize up and his fingers close around something smooth. He looks down to find the chestnut there in his palm.

And he thinks of Alfie. Of falling asleep curled up in his arms as he reads, walking in the snow, sitting outside when spring comes, the way Alfie talked about. That would be nice.

Maybe he still wants things that feel nice.

The thought sparks a tiny, flickering light that warms the empty cavity in his chest.

“What do you think he gets out of this? Having to care for someone like you, without getting anything in return. You don’t deserve any of this.”

The answer comes instinctively, “I know-“

But he wants it-

“Haven’t you gotten enough of the things you’ve wanted?”

“But-“

“Stop questioning me.” A twinge of cold steel creeps into Grace’s voice.

When the urge to dig his nails into his skin comes over him he squeezes the chestnut harder. Tries to focus on the smooth surface.

“I want to stay.”

Wants to stay, wants to be here with Alfie. It feels so strange to want anything at all, he’s not allowed to. For so long there’s just been this void inside of him. How could he want anything, then?

But he wants to be here with Alfie.

Grace’s eyes glint with ice in the dark.

“He’s going to hurt you. How can you not see that? When he finally realises how much it’s cost him, all of this”

He nods, hopes to appease her, can’t stand that voice. Even if the tiniest part of him wants to protest. Alfie wouldn’t hurt him.

“You know you deserve to be hurt.”

The chestnut lands on the floor with a soft thump. Instead, his hand grips a green vase that glimmers on the mantlepiece. The glass is cool underneath his fingers and it rests heavily in his hand. Shimmers blue in the faint moonlight from the window.

“It’s so easy, Tommy,” Grace’s voice is soft again. “So easy. With me you’ll get to rest.”  

He closes his eyes and tries to breathe, fingers convulsively tight around the vase. Tries to will himself to put it back on the mantle.

“You can’t stay here.”

“I want to.” His voice cracks pitifully and the hand holding the vase is shaking, shaking wonders if his bones will crack before the glass does

“Evening Thomas. Thought we’d gotten an unannounced visit, but it’s just one of your ghosts again. Suppose they might classify as one, still.”  

Alfie is standing in the doorway, seems to fill it entirely with his broad frame and Tommy wants to fling himself into his arms and cling to him but he’s lost control of his own body, gaze flickering back to Grace who is still watching him with cold eyes. Alfie walks up to him without another word, takes the vase away from him and puts it out of reach on the mantle.

He was so angry, that time when he broke the vase, even if it was an accident. Yelled and looked at him with hard eyes full of accusation. Now, Alfie just strokes his cheek. His fingers are rough and warm against his skin and he leans into the touch.

“ ‘s alright, hm? Yeah, you’re alright,” he says. “Look, I brought your blanket. There we go- c’mere” He wraps the blanket tightly around his shoulders, pulls Tommy into his arms, into folds of sleep-warm fabric, solid muscle anf softness that he can bury his face in. He’s been holding his breath for so long it starts coming out in harsh hiccups against Alfie’s chest as he rocks him back and forth. Slowly slowly, until he eventually says, “A’ight, let’s get you back to bed and away from the ghosts, eh?”

When Alfie tries to move him, Tommy finds himself frozen on the spot.

“No? Not ready to go back to the bedroom? Do you want to stay here for a bit?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t know- what does he want? Wants to be close to Alfie. But in the dark bedroom, there’s the expectation of sleep. Sleeping feels impossible, his heart is still thrumming so hard in his chest. Hammers against his ribcage, sending vibrations through his whole body. He looks at the floor, searches for the chestnut he dropped. Alfie’s gaze follows his and he soon finds it, picks it up and presses it into Tommy’s hand

“There you go. Now, you just sit right here-“ He leads him over to the sofa and plops him down onto the soft cushions. “And hold onto that, while I light a fire. Think you can do that?”

The surface is smooth and familiar under his fingers. He nods and pulls his feet off the cold floor.

Alfie lights a fire that chases the shadows into the corners of the room, bathes the room and his face in warm light that breathes life into everything. Then he seats himself next to Tommy on the sofa and pulls him into his arms again. Tucks his head under his chin.    

“There we go. Suppose we’ll just sit here for a while, then. Can’t read anything I’m afraid, seeing as I left my glasses in the bedroom, but we can, yeah, we can just sit here and relax.”

He never realizes just how cold he is until he’s close to Alfie. Alfie is so warm. Warm and strong. Safe. Like this, he doesn’t have to believe the voices. Not any of them. Like this, he feels safe. The fire crackles softly and melts together with Alfie’s breaths into a soothing hum.

“Who is it that you see, hm, Tommy?” Alfie asks once he’s stopped shaking.  

It’s not the first time he asks. They all ask. The answer is always lodged in his chest and too hard to get out. But now it floats dangerously close to the surface. His breaths tremble as he pulls them into his lungs. He worries the fabric of the blanket under his fingers, rubs the pad of his other thumb over the chestnut. It’s warm now from resting in his palm. He buries his face deep in the fabric of Alfie’s nightshirt. Until he can pretend he won’t hear him.

“Grace.” It’s surreal, saying it out loud. Even if he whispers it so quietly it might as well have been the wind. As if it’s not his voice, as if the reply is separate from himself.

“And she speaks to you? When you see her.”

A hum is all he can manage.  

“And what does she say?”

He shakes his head. No no he can’t, he’s not allowed-

“Go on, you’re doing so well.” Alfie mutters into his hair. “Yeah? What does she say?”

“Bad things.”

“Like suggesting you put a gun to your head, or break my glassware to potentially do harm to yourself? Or walk into the bloody ocean.”

Perhaps Alfie can sense that he’s sinking with every word because he holds him tighter.

“See that’s important, innit? Granted I don’t fucking know your wife, but it seems highly unlikely she’d be so fucking adamant that you hurt yourself. So I think we can safely say whoever keeps pestering you isn’t really her. Does that seem like a reasonable theory?”  

He doesn’t have an answer. Grace, the real Grace, has gotten oddly blurred, the warm, rosy memories faded at the edges. It seems so long ago. And he was different then. Maybe a bit more deserving of her love. No, he never deserved it but at least he wasn’t… this.

The good memories hurt too much. He locked them away, tried to forget. And now it seems like he has.

“It’s my fault. My fault that- that she’s dead“

Alfie’s fingers wind into his hair and tugs it backward until he’s forced to meet his gaze.

“Did you hold the fuckin’ gun, eh? Logic like that is useless once you get into a business like ours. How many times do I have to fuckin tell you?”

“I might as well-“

“Don’t argue with me. See I’m a wise, wise old man, not to mention, a quite recently instated God. I’d be deeply hurt and offended if you decided to not treat my advice and wisdom with the utmost respect.”

“There are others,” Tommy says, still having to tear the words from throat to get them out. Alfie hums. Allows him to hide in his shirt again.  

“Suppose it’s hard, having so many people in your head all the time But, I’d say that all things considered, you probably shouldn’t pay too much attention to what they are saying either.”

“Why?”

“Well, to put it simply, if they tell you to hurt yourself, you shouldn’t fucking listen. Or if they tell you- fucking hell, whatever it is that make you wander off in the middle of the night, or stare into the distance with that horrified look on your face.” Alfie pauses his increasingly agitated monologue and huffs out a harsh breath through his nose. He combs his fingers rhythmically through his hair in the way that always makes Tommy feel as if he could melt. Now, it at least soothes his wracked nerves. Alfie sighs. “Whatever they’re saying it’s not worth listening to.”

“They’re right.”

Grace might’ve loved him, even if he didn’t deserve it. Maybe Lizzie did too. For short while, at least. Before he destroyed that too. There’s something wrong with him, something ugly and black and broken that makes it impossible to love him. Even Ada said so, everything he touches-

Alfie’s eyes glint in the light of the fire as he grasps his chin and nudges his head up. He focuses on the clear one, the one that isn’t a reminder of-

“They don’t fucking matter,” he says, voice sharp. “Fuckin’ ghosts and spectres. They’re not real and they don’t matter, you hear me?”

“It’s hard. Knowing what’s real.”

Alfie nods and guides his head back against his chest, his touch gentle again. His head is cradled in his palm, warm breaths in his hair as he whispers, “This, this is real.”

And with the sound of Alfie’s heartbeat and the crackling fire in his ears, Tommy closes his eyes.

…

The next thing he becomes aware of is that he’s floating. At least it feels like that at first. But he’s anchored in a set of two strong arms, head still propped against a familiar chest. Floorboards creak underneath heavy steps. He tries to open his eyes, but they’re too heavy. Shifts the tiniest bit to bury his face in soft fabric.

“Shh, shh, settle down. Settle down, I’ve got you.”

Alfie hushes him and rocks him ever so slightly, pulling him slowly back into sleep as he’s carried through the house.

The voices and the mud can’t reach him here, in Alfie’s arms.

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Stop

Part 17

Aftermath of everything so far. Slightly longer chapter here. No warnings I can think of? Formatting got weird and I'm too tired to fix it.

CLOSED list: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @emjrabbitwolf @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Arriving back into the apartment, they were greeted with a heated argument, Damian and the Kwamis dutifully holding off any attempts to convince them they should go after the two. Apparently, they felt the two were taking too long and they should find them now.

Making a snap decision, Marinette redirected them towards her room, ushering him into the bathroom where he allowed her to strip off the bloodied machetes, gun, and holsters. She pushed him towards the shower and walked back into her room, probably to clean and put away everything. 

Stripping down, he started up the shower and stepped in. From the moment the hot water hit his skin blood started raining down his body in rivlets, trailing across the tiles lazily into the drain. His skin prickled with it and he reached blindly until he found a washcloth to scrub at his skin, rubbing it raw. Only when the water went clear did he look for soap, intent on getting every trace of it off his skin despite his hands being figuratively dirtied in such a permanent way. Sure, he always believed some people should not be allowed to continue living after their heinous crimes against humanity. Believed the Joker deserved such a death more than anything for what he'd done to his lovely little soulmate and at such a young age. Had planned on doing exactly this. But believing such, even planning for it, and actually ending the life by your own hands were two different things. Knowing he was capable of such violence was frightening.

Hair clean, body clean, mouth clean, but soul throbbing, he stood staring off into the distance for some time before blinking away the water falling across his face. Reaching out, he shut off the water and grabbed for the towel he noticed placed over a rack. Drying off quickly and wrapping it about him, he opened the curtain, first noticing his bloodied clothes nowhere to be seen and secondly, Marinette standing in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection with a blank look.

It took a moment for him to realise what was wrong: she hadn't seen herself in three years now. Neither had he.

Moving up behind her he rested his hands on her shoulders and finally settled his gaze on himself, angling to see more.

His hair was still black, curly and haphazard but with an added streak of white in the very front, eyes a strange teal color instead of their steady blue from before. Sharp jawline with a small scar going up the right cheek by an inch. His neck had a weird mark across it as though hit in a way it never fully recovered the skin from. Realizing his body didn't have any breasts to cover with the towel as he had become adjusted to, he lowered it and refastened it at his waist, revealing a long white scar going down his torso, a cross-section following across his chest. More scars and places that were obviously stitched back together littered his sides and he was certain the legs must be in a similar state.

Tearing his gaze away, he looked back at Mari, noting how she poked at a scar on her collarbone, easily exposed in the top she wore. She had changed out of the clothes he came in, obviously deciding she didn't care how much the red hoodie she must of pulled from the dresser no longer fit her along with a pair of black boxers that looked more like baggy sleep shorts on her.

"You should get dressed. Let them know we're back," she whispered.

"They can wait a moment. The kwamis have it under control," he murmured back, reluctant to face them.

She reached back and laced their fingers, "We won't get into it tonight. Just let them know it's over, see if one would be willing to get your suitcase while making a late dinner, then kick them out for the night."

"The night?"

"We were gone quite a while. Not only with the mission. I lead you around the city afterwards before bringing you back here. You weren't entirely present yet. It's six pm now."

He hummed his understanding, "By the time dinner is made and they've come back, it'll be closer to seven thirty or eight, if they do return. Dinner and getting them to stop asking questions could take another hour or so, plus settling Damian I'm sure. We'll want to sleep after."

"Exactly," a strained smile crossed her face.

"Or we could kick them out and order delivery."

"Jason," she admonished.

"I'm serious. They should understand. We've all had our issues, we'll talk with them when we're ready. Sure, they won't like it, but they'll get it. Just work with the kid tonight. That's enough for one day."

Sighing, she nodded and followed him back into the bedroom where she pulled out black sweat pants and a soft, gray shirt with long sleeves, handing them to him to put on while she went over to the side table to retrieve the beaded choker to return to Chloe. He realized Longg must've went out to let the others know they were back, seeing as the little dragon was nowhere to be seen. That would certainly explain how much quieter the apartment seemed.

Finishing pulling on the shirt, he grabbed Mari's hand and lead the way out the door, the others locking onto them instantly. Their eyes seemed curiously cautious and Jason took a deep breath to steel himself before speaking to the room at large.

"We're fine, everything is fine, Robin is safe and free. We'll talk about it later, when everything is more settled."

"You're about to kick us out," Kagami stated.

Jason offered up a little smirk, "Pretty much."

"Fucking figures. Alright, but we Will be talking about all of this later."

"Sure, sure. Could you do us a favor though?"

"What's that," Juleka piped up with a dry tone.

"Transport her suitcase here? Her old clothes don't quite match her figure anymore," he teased, gesturing to Mari who gave an offended huff.

"Fit just fine this morning."

"Sorry, Sugar."

Giving a snort of laughter, Marc nodded, "Yeah, I can help with that. Same place as always for Kaalki?"

"Yeah, Kagami has him in hers in case."

"Got it. We'll leave you be."

"Thanks."

The group walked towards the door, shooting final glances back at them, as though to reassure themselves the two were safe in the room and not moving anywhere.

Kagami whispered something to Tikki and with a quick nod, the goddess took the earings and flew over the Jason.

"I'm staying the night with you two," she stated firmly.

"Supervision?"

"Something like that," she smiled, "they'll be back in the morning by the way."

"Figured."

The door shut behind the last of them and the tension in their shoulders finally dropped.

Jason felt a small hand grip at his sleeve and turned to see Damian looking up at him with concern, Plagg nestled into his hair.

"Are you stable now?"

"Yeah Kid, I'm good. Mari and I were thinking of ordering takeout. Any idea what you'd want?" 

His face went blank and he swiveled to look at Marinette, who quirked an amused eyebrow, only to yank his hand away like it was on fire.

"I'm sure whatever you pick will be adequate," he huffed and made his way back over to the couch.

They watched him go then turned to meet each other's eyes only to laugh.

"He's fun to mess with. And we're not even trying," he commented.

"Enjoy it while you can, he'll get used to you soon enough."

With that they started to move around each other, one calling for food, the other going over to Damian, attempting to find some sense of normal in their day.

Preparing for bed that night some hours later, Damian already used to Marinette's relapses and not asking for the details of his own and thus easily swayed to head into his room for sleep, they hesitated. He could tell she wanted to be separated as little as he did, but he couldn't convince himself to move. She lurched forward to take his hand and lead him back into her room, closing the door behind them and heading to the bed.

"I would say you should buy me dinner first, but you sort of did," he offered playfully, aiming to relieve the tension.

"Hush you," she rolled her eyes, shaking her head and crawling up onto the bed, still holding onto him so he had no choice but to follow.

When they had settled in, facing inward to keep the other in sight he found his voice once more, "Is it always like that?"

She looked down at the bed spread, tracing fingers along the creases, "Not always," she started only to fade off on the end, "Eventually you gain more control. Can hold them off and silence them for a while. My last relapse was quite a few months ago."

"Until the cafe."

"Yeah."

"The switch threw you off enough to lose it."

"Not entirely."

"But you said you relapsed."

"It's different for me. I've had this inside me for over two years now. It's not that I relapsed per say. I simply heard them raging, felt the gas enter my lungs and decided to take a backseat on that one. I couldn't have regained control at that point, but letting it consume me was a choice."

"I have zero control over this and you're deciding to let it consume you?"

"If I hadn't, I'd have held back. You'll learn to control it, probably better than I can."

"How."

"It hasn't touched your soul. Plus, I know how it works and can guide you. That's two things I can't say for myself. You could see what was happening when you went after the Joker, yes? Were able to respond to my voice without attacking?"

He gave a slight nod.

"Some of my relapses during missions lead to me blacking out until the end. Once the madness settled, I'd come to and remember everything at once. You're already so much further than I was."

Sighing through his nose, he wrapped an arm across her back and pulled her forward towards himself. He allowed her to adjust and nuzzled the top of her head.

"The jade eyed woman. Talia, I assume. What I saw of her…"

"She took me in while I was rehabilitating in the hospital. I could barely walk two feet. She took me back to the underground city, dunked me in the pit to heal my body. Comforted me after my first kills, trained me, put me through lessons," she spoke, voice going soft and wistful in remembrance. She took a deep breath before continuing, "It took months to discover her motives."

"Damian?"

"Yeah."

"Will they come for you?"

"I'm not sure. Someone attacked the night we escaped. I left indications of Dami on an unidentifiable corpse. Along with the high death toll taken on the rest of the place, it might be believable. Unless we make our presence known, it's probably safe. I keep an eye out either way."

"And Talia?" He asked, though feeling he knew the answer already.

"She's," she stopped, shaking in his grasp, "She's gone. Died in the- the invasion. Her body was cr-crumpled up in a pile with her p-private guard."

"I'm sorry Mari. You shouldn't have had to go through that."

"She's gone," she whispered and he felt his shirt begin to dampen.

"I'm sorry" he murmured back, unsure how to comfort her and only holding tighter as she began to sob into his shoulder, clutching at him.

"I wish I di-didn't know," she squeaked.

He ducked in further to nuzzle at her head once more, letting her more unintelligible mumbles fade into him, just holding her through it until finally her breathing settled out.

"Jason?"

"Yeah?"

At that moment a knock sounded softly at the door for the third time that day. As she rubbed carefully at her eyes, he twisted to look over his shoulder as the door opened. Damian held himself tense, gripping the door knob and biting his lip, though he could see the pleading in the shake of his eyes and hands. Mari sat up partially, leaning against his side to look over him.

"Dami? Did you need something?"

The kid pulled the door closer to him, focusing on her solely, not responding.

"Come here, dear. You can sleep with us tonight."

He visibly perked up but then darted his eyes over to Jason with hesitation.

"Come on kid," he urged, turning away and settling once more as Mari stayed propped on his side, urging Damian forward. He heard the softest of little steps inch around the bed and suddenly the kid was crawling up on Mari's other side. She twisted and pulled Damian into her arms, settling him carefully. Only when he seemed to relax did Jason feel her slowly tug backwards until she pressed back against him. 

Jason curled himself around her back, pressing his face into the back of her shoulder. Opening his eyes, he met cautious green eyes peering up at him. Huffing a breath through his nose at the kid, he watched the eyes blink slightly before they became more calm and accepting. He ducked back forward and closed his eyes and Jason followed suit. It took less time to fall asleep that night than it had in years.

…

In the morning, he watched her usher the kid into the bathroom to clean up, as he headed into the kitchen to start on breakfast. Marinette came over and settled into a bar stool, watching as he moved about, speaking up whenever he couldn't find something. 

It was as he began to plate up omelets that the door lock clicked up and he grabbed her wrist before she could move. Trixx flew through the door and sped towards the fruit on the table just as the door burst open.

"Alright. You had your rest. It's morning. Spill," Chloe demanded as she dropped into the seat next to Marinette, pulling a plate towards herself, knowing both the occupants to be amazing cooks. The others filed in at a more regular pace, offering their greetings and settling around the place.

"I was the former Robin," Jason stated.

"Okay so seeing a new one set you off then?" Marc guessed.

"I was captured, tortured, and Mari was killed by the Joker."

Juleka leaned forward at the reminder, eyes widening in realization, "Joker was doing a callback to your death with your replacement."

"Pretty much," Marinette piped up, eating her breakfast and turning as Damian entered the room and pushing a plate in front of him as he sat down.

"You killed the Clown then, yes?" Kagami more stated than asked. She received a nod.

"And the new Robin?"

"Safe. We didn't let him see the Joker die, but he certainly knows it. Ran off to Batman presumably." 

"And you're just okay with this?" Chloe huffed.

"Not even slightly."

"So what's the plan then?"

"First we need to know more, an insider's perspective."

"Alfred?"

"Alfred."

"Who's Alfred?" Juleka asked, more than confused at this point.

"The man behind the whole operation. Batman and Robin wouldn't even function if it weren't for his existence."

"Luckily he also loved us like we were his own and probably feels just as protective over the new Robin."

"And he's not over Batman?"

"Oh he certainly is, but Alfred always stands against Bats when he's in the wrong. Keeps him in line. I'm sure he didn't approve of another child taking the mask."

"He didn't approve of us taking the mask."

"So who will contact him then?"

"I will," Jason dropped the dishes into the soapy water he'd started, moving aside as Marc began to wash, Kagami dried and Damian directed on where things went.

"You want me with you for it?"

"Yeah, you'll want to know what he says."

Marinette followed him into the living room where he asked for her phone and listened to its soft ringing.

"Master Jason."

"Hey Alfred. Guess the replacement told you then?"

"He only gave a description actually."

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I knew."

"Of course you did," Jason gave a light laugh.

"I presume Miss Marinette is with you?"

"Yeah, she's here. We're here."

"If I might ask, which of you died that night?" Jason could hear the whisper of a tremble in the older man's voice.

"Mari."

"I thought she might have." A silence settled over them for a moment, "To what do I owe this call to?"

"Marinette needed your input before stealing the new Robin."

"I'm not going to steal him," she argued to which he gave her a look.

"We're pretty pissed, to be honest," he corrected.

"It was not his intention to replace either of you."

"That is rather hurtful, but that's not really it," he grumbled.

"Wasn't one bird dying enough for him? He's going to endanger another?" Mari put in, loud enough for the man to hear.

"Ah, I see. In that case, I fully support your plan."

"Just like that?"

"He's using the young Master as an emotional crutch. Otherwise he neglects him entirely. It is not healthy for either of them."

"I fucking knew it."

"Language."

"Sorry."

"It will take time to convince the newest Robin to abandon him. I will keep you both updated on the situation from my end."

"Thank you Alfred."

"I expect I will be invited over to catch up."

"Of course, whenever you have time, our door will always be open."

"Lovely. I should wonder if perhaps he will take to you faster than we expect. Marinette was never mentioned."

"Really."

"Indeed. I believe patrol is set for nine tonight if you would like to make them aware of her."

"Perhaps we will. Talk to you soon."

Make sure you do."

"Love you Alfred. Goodbye."

With that, he hung up, turning to her. They met eyes, knowing something had to come of this.

"Alright, so what's the plan?"

[chickennoodlesoupfortae]

Angles deserve to die

A/N- ahahhahaha its gone for a month author rats. I missed my page so im back and with an update on that piece i said i was going to post last august.

Summary- People would like to think of the higher beings as ethical and moral in all their actions but sometimes even they get bored. Yoongi is assigned a task by the overlord to see how far love could push a mortal. Jimin is tasked the same by the “good” side to see if love can save the souls of those vulnerable. What happens when you’re caught in the crossfires of a cosmic bet.

Word count- 2.8k 

Warnings- Since it is based on a higher being religion is under defamation and question.

Namjoon sat babysitting a drink next to the lord of the underworld. “I don’t get what you’re getting at Jungkook. Why should we care about the mortals and their thoughts. Our job is to get them to believe what they have and then let them wander around till they disappear.” 

“That’s so boring though.” the god groaned chugging the rest of his drink. “All I’m saying is that we’ve been doing this for them for the past hundred thousand years and I’m bored out of my mind.”  

“You’re bored out of your mind. You get the interesting souls. I have to talk to the “good” people. Do you know how many different types of gods I have to pose as so they don’t freak out.” he swirled the liquid inside the cup.

“You choose to do them. When we were choosing what we’d do your words were,” Jungkook began to laugh. The small room was dark and gloomy only filled by the two of them and a maiden who came and occasionally refilled their glasses. It was warm and dry inside making it uncomfortable but the two had gotten use to it as the year melted together.

“Don’t say it” the god warned

“ ‘I believe that these savages can be good and therefore I want to lead their souls into a better place’” he imitated his partner in the afterlife scam “Well look how that turned out. You still get shitty people but they pretend to be better than the ones you send “down under”.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes “What’s with that right? I mean who thought of one, the word hell and two, that it would be down. You literally work ten miles away from me.”

“Stupid humans I guess.” his hand shoot up beckoning for the maiden who appeared next to him within seconds. “Yes dear can I get another one of these please with an extra shot of vodka” his head turned away from the servant  “So back to what I was saying oh heavenly one. As I was “punishing” my run of the mill serial killers, as one does. I thought. ‘Now why do these humans love to hurt each other?’ Me being a god and all, determined quickly that it was emotion.” 

“And?” he rolled his eyes listening to the devil himself.

“What if we sent one of your angels and one of my demons to try and see what would happen.” 

“How would that work the human would have two people pressuring it and we wouldn’t be able to see the results clearly.”

“What if we sent them in disguise as one of them and see who the human chooses emotionally and how far it would go.”

Namjoon finished his drink thinking the proposal through. It had been years since he visited the mortal world and seeing clones of the same personality pass through his office was getting boring. “We need to set goals and a prize.” The devil's eyes lit up with excitement Joon had only seen when he realised his first plague.

“My goal is for the human to kill itself.” he responded

Namjoon choked on air as he heard Jungkook’s suggestion. “That seems awfully cruel.”

“I am satan no?” he joked “It doesn’t matter if your sides gonna win right?” 

Again “the savior” of humanity looked for the answers in the room eyes blanking on a wall. “Fine but my goal is the same. The human must end it’s own life in a selfless way.”

“Oh that’s interesting Namjoon.” his head raised at the use of his real name.

“Yes Jungkook it is, but this is an interesting game we’re playing.” he replied with the use of his  real name. There names were used mostly by their own angels and demons but rarely between the two “If I win we get to switch positions for the next millenia.”

“And if I win you have to do both jobs for the next century and I live a life amongst the people showing them what bad really is.” he extended his hand. Namjoon grabbed it feeling a slight burn on impact. 

“Deal.”

Yoongi’s eyes opened and he groaned. “So we’re doing this again.” he asked himself at the realization he was still alive or better phrased not alive but still working. He stood up in the overly large dimly lit room walking over to the closet to start his daily routine. Everyday he followed the same actions. Closet, clothes, brushing his teeth, and going to the court to hear whatever sob stories his clients had. One would assume that a demon in charge of the highest cases in the land of the heartless would have an exciting life but after  tens of thousands of years it became a bit tedious. He put on a white tee shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. To call it business casual he threw on a plane black blazer. Looking in the mirror he checked his figure giving himself a smile. He walked closer to the mirror examining his black hair patting down a couple fly aways. His eyes were cold and dead. Perfect for his profession. He stepped back looking at himself one last time before opening the door and saying goodbye to his penthouse apartment in the nicest district of the bad side. 

The elevator as always remained pack for all seventy levels stopping at every other floor. It was quite fitting to what was called hell in the mortal world. Finally at the lobby he walked out of the building into the cloudy atmosphere. His car was parked in a no parking zone and ten tickets stuck out of his window wipers that he had never bothered to take out. He smiled at the sight of a boot on his black luxury vehicle. His favorite hobby was seeing how angry the meter maid would get watching him zap off the boot and burn the tickets. He was waiting for there to be fifteen tickets so he could beat his record. He stepped into the small sleek car and like every morning rode in silence to the office.

Jimin’s eyes fluttered open a small smile already present on his soft face. He stood up slightly yawning slipping his feet into the slippers that found a home beside his king size bed. He walked through his large bedroom to the closet. The room was bright due to thee light coming in from the open window. Everyday Jimin did the same thing enjoying the routine it gave him. “Hey baby can you get me a cup of coffee?” he asked his “girlfriend” grabbing a button up white shirt out of the full closet. 

“Sure thing.” she responded from another part of the house. He walked into the bathroom examining his face. For an angel he fit the description, a clear skin smile reflecting back. His hair was a platinum blonde almost gray shade which matched his outfit. Although loving the style of white he wore a dark metal watch on his wrist and a black necklace. He checked his figure smiling and leaving his all white bathroom. 

“Here’s your coffee dear.” A tall woman stood in front of him handing him a to go cup. In the “next world” as the highest liked to call it,  there was no such thing as love. “Girlfriend” was a term coined by the demons which slowly traveled to the good side for a companion. Although there were no genders in the next world the beings could choose what they presented as and most of the time it was a mortal form some resembling women and other men and some just balls of light. A “girlfriend” here just meant a companion to give support. 

“Thank you.” he gave her a small peck and left the townhouse he owned in the best district of the good side. What Jimin did was different than most angels. Most were tasked to help the souls fade and give them hope while his was to defend the good side from the souls trying to get in. It was a stressful job but it kept him busy. He walked to his white car. The vehicle shined brightly in the sun parked neatly in front of his house. He drove to the office with the windows open letting the air flow through.

“Min Yoongi?” his office telephone paged. He groaned looking at the old fashioned piece of technology, now only used in his profession. His hand slowly raised pressing the intercom button. 

“Yes?” he asked annoyed.

“Sir, the CEO seeks your presence upstairs.” he threw his head back at the static sound that now filled his office.

“Tell him I’ll be up.” 

It wasn’t a bad day but he hated meeting with his boss. His position was the highest next to the CEO meaning he didn’t interact with anyone except his clients, secretary, and occasionally his doorman and he loved it that way. He let out a loud groan walking outside his office and to the elevator. He got inside the cabin pressing level one hundred. As he passed each floor he pressed the numbers making it so by the time he got to his floor the elevator would stop at every level. 

The doors opened to the dry and hot office of the CEO. He strolled out of the elevator clearly unamused by being called here.

“Yoongi what a pleasure to see you again.” Jungkook smiled sitting behind his desk in the almost dark office. All the blinds were down and the room was empty except for the servant he always had on hand for drinks. 

“What do you want?” he asked tired already of the interaction. 

“Do want anything to drink?” the god asked

“No.” he responded 

“I don’t know why I love my alcohol so much. To us highers it has no effect but I guess I’ve always loved the burn.” he let out a dry laugh. 

“So why did you call me up here satan.” he stated blandly

“I hate that name. Where do they come up with these names?” he took a long sip from his glass before placing it down and changing his demeanor. “I have a job for you.”

Jimin smiled at his client giving her a box of tissues. “Yes, I know this must be a lot for you honey. You made it! You’re on the goodside. Why don’t you go with Jan and she’ll explain this all to you.” 

The soul nodded her head and walked out with the assistant selected for her case. Jimin let out a sigh of relief as his first case of the day walked out. 

“Park Jimin?” he heard is telecom go off. He pressed the button to speak.

“Yes?” he responded

“The CEO needs you.” 

“Thank you for telling me.” he stood up and walked to the elevator pressing the up button. He looked over at his secretary.

“Did he mention what he needs me for?” he asked her kindly

“No sir. He just said he needed to see you.” she smiled at him.

“Oh that’s unfortunate. The weathers been quite nice lately hasn’t it.” he politely conversed with her. 

“Yes, the light has been shining lately. I heard it’s cloudy on the other side though.” she added

“What a shame. I hope it gets brighter.” the elevator opened “Well I’ll be back soon hopefully.” he waved while pressing the hundredth floor.

The doors opened into the bright room surrounded by windows and chairs. The god stood looking out of one of the farther one. The windows gave a perfect view onto the bustling city of the good side. Cars drove through the streets and angels walked on the sidewalks. The god wasn’t looking at the city though. He looked beyond it to the fields of grasing souls waiting to fade away. 

“Hi Namjoon what can I do for you?” he asked walking to stand beside him 

“I have a job for you.” he sighed still looking forward.

 “I’m sorry what do you want me to do JK?” he asked now more interested than he had been before. Jungkook slide the file across his desk to the side of the chair yoongi was sitting in. 

“Here’s her case buddy. (y/n) she was especially chosen by me and mr. sunshine.” 

Yoongi sat up to grab the manilla folder. He looked at the picture of the mortal girl and began to read her file. “What about her though? She seems pretty average to me.” he continued to scan the transcript.

“You see I knew you were the man for the job. Ms. (y/l/n) is a perfect example of a decent human being, she isn't good but she isn’t bad. She would get into the other side but she wouldn’t become an angel. She’s the perfect example of a vulnerable soul.” 

“I still don’t get why you want me to seduce her into being bad.” he asked closing the file and sliding it back.

“I don’t want you to make her bad. I just want you to make her lose herself. Drive her insane make her you know?” he elaborated overcome with joy.

“No Jungkook I don’t know.” the demon responded the red in his eyes flaring up for the first time in months.

“To end it all. I want you to make an example of her. If you can get her to go insane then I’ll win my bet.” he stated smiling and leaning back into his chair.

“You’re doing this as a bet. That seems especially cruel even for you.” Yoongi cracked a smile starting to get convinced.

“I mean I’m sure it’ll be fun for you too. You’ll get a break from routine and free reign on a mortal. All I need you to do is to take her life and what she knows and flip it upside down, make her emotions overcome her and lead her to dumb descisions. If you think seducing her will do it than go ahead.” 

“Fine. I’ll do it.” he sighed standing up.

“This seems like a bad idea.” Jimin pleaded to his superior.

“I know but if I don’t win then they will and that’s worse.” 

“Why would you make a wager like this.” the angel pleaded feeling defeated knowing he would have to go through with it. He was looking through the file. “She’s so average. She doesn’t deserve this. She would be a normal soul on this side. What if I can’t convince her and the other side wins?” he was rambling but surprisingly at a loose for words in his mind 

“I don’t know Jimin but I trust that you’ll be able to sway her in the right direction.”

“I still don’t understand what I need to do.” he ruffled through the papers in the file.

“You need to find this girl and get her to change and,” he paused disappointed in his part of the deal. “ give the ultimate sacrifice for another.”

Jimin’s head shot up “The what?” he was in denial “You want me to get her to kill herself for someone else how is that...I don’t.” he couldn’t bring the words in his mind to come out.

“I know but in a selfless way. Like a mother dying for her child or a firefighter saving a person from a fire.” the god walked away from the windows and sat down at his desk.

“I can’t do this.” Jimin threw the file up in the air, letting the papers fall around him.

“You have too.” Namjoon stated giving him the watch. Every angel knew of the watch but very few ever saw it. The small timepiece allowed for highers such as angels, demons, and gods to visit the mortal world. He took the time piece and left the office.

Yoongi stood in his empty apartment packing a suitcase filling it with his most casual clothes. He looked back into the home and twisted the watch's dial transporting him to the mortal world. 

Jimin went home and packed a bag filled with his clothes. He forgot about his “girlfriend” until she stopped him at the door. At almost all times angels were expected to be kind beings above drama and emotions but this was a rare occasion. “Get out of my home. I won’t be back for awhile and I thought the new trend of companionship would be for me but it wasn’t so I expect you to be gone.” he moved her aside and left his home. On his porch he turned the dial on the watch transporting him to the mortal realm.

[juniperwindsong]

Necessary Monsters (4/16)

Summary:  "I have done my best since I've been back to make sure no one got to her, but it's a bit of full time gig, that. I warned her to stay out and let me handle it.” "You thought she would stay away if you just told her to? Have you ever met Juniper?"

   Post to the dragon infested wilds of northeastern Peru is not always possible, and what birds do manage it are never timely. Which is why Felix does not read Rita Skeeter's article on Juniper Windsong* until several months after his graduation. "From Cursebreaker to Quidditch Darling: A Witch of Many Hats" declares the headline, set above a photograph of an awkwardly smiling Juniper. She’s giving the camera a surprised sort of half-wave, as though only aware of its presence a second before the flash. 

   So far, Felix has done a successful job putting his crush on his school friend from his mind, aided by the million and one things he has to learn about his new and dangerous job. But something about the picture-Juniper's expression touches that part of him still nursing a soft spot for her. He severs the photograph from the article with his wand, tucking it carefully into a trouser pocket. And for the next three years, that's where it stays; his only aid in recalling her face with the precise detail he craves more and more frequently.

   The body on the hospital bed has the same features, slightly aged. But Felix cannot reconcile it with the Juniper he knows. There's no sign of life in her, beyond the incessant twitching of her fingers. Closer inspection reveals her myriad tiny cuts to be deeper than Felix initially realised. The wounds, while magically sealed, are puckered and raised. He knows each one will leave a small scar.

   And her face. Her face is entirely expressionless. It reminds Felix of the mannequins at the hospital's entrance. No one could confuse her condition with merely sleeping.

   How long he stands by the bed minutely inspecting each injured part of Juniper, Felix isn't sure. His brain is strangely detached, as if it's reached the limit of what it can process in one day and has recused itself from any further analysis. Felix can't really blame it. In the span of one morning, he’s fallen from exuberant high-spirits through various layers of unexpected terror before bottoming out in wretched guilt. Now, with no action left to keep up momentum, the rapid rush of conflicting emotion burns out, leaving numb exhaustion in its wake.

   Only when his knees start to feel shaky once more does Felix remember the thing he's leaning against is a chair, and he drops into it. It's a comfortable, winged armchair, most unlike the hard, wooden chairs Madam Pomfrey conjures for guest use in the Hogwart's Hospital Wing. He wonders briefly if all the rooms in St Mungo’s are equally accommodating or if it indicates this patient's need for more regular supervision.

Felix sinks deeper into the cushions gratefully. Perhaps it's the lack of sleep, or the fact that he's been denied furniture this comfortable for years, but drowsiness begins to trickle through his limbs enticingly. Keeping his eyes open is suddenly a herculean task...

-

   Felix only knows he's fallen asleep when the soft click of the hidden door unlocking wakes him. Disoriented, he struggles from the chair, fumbling for his wand. But the witch who enters, a short, curly-haired woman in lime-green robes, says "Dragon-Heart String," promptly before he's able to pull it from his pocket.

   "You're awake this time," the healer observes crisply, striding to the bedside table. "Good. I was beginning to worry you'd been cursed as well."

   Felix makes a production of stowing his wand back into his rumpled robes, surreptitiously wiping sleep from his eyes and giving the heat in his face time to cool. When he turns back to the bed, the healer is running her wand over Juniper's chest slowly, the wood just brushing the white sheet. The wand tip glows a deep, pulsing red and the healer nods once as if in confirmation.

   "What are you doing?" asks Felix.

   "Checking her vital signs," replies the healer. "Her heart rate is slowing."

   She says this so matter-of-factly it takes a minute for Felix to process it isn't a good thing. His own heart begins to beat double-time.

   "Surely you can fix that?"

   The healer shakes her head once, iron-gray curls bouncing. She reaches for a small bottle on the bedside table and uncorks it, upending the contents onto a bit of cloth.

   "Not unless we can discover what spell was used on her." The healer begins dabbing the cloth gently over the angry red cuts on Juniper's face. "Nothing we've tried has worked so far.  I have my trainee researching rare curses and sleep enchantments, but-" She clicks her tongue doubtfully.

   In spite of her brusque tone, Felix's notices the healer's motions are exceedingly gentle. She takes her time, massaging the cloth over each small wound on Juniper's face down to her exposed neck. Something in her tender ministrations betrays concern, and an echo of the morning's fear slithers back through Felix's veins.

   "But... she's going to be alright...isn't she?"

   The healer looks up at him abruptly, cloth stilling on Juniper's shoulder.

   "Has no one explained to you what's happened to this girl?

   "They - he said - she was attacked."

   The healer regards him steadily. "She has been tortured. See her hands? That's a sign of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Pain like that has permanent effects on the body and the mind. It can quite literally drive a person mad.  Even if we manage to wake her, I doubt very much whether she will be 'alright'."

   Felix's heart beat climbs into his throat. He swallows hard, trying to wrap his mind around this new and terrifying possibility.

   "There has to be something you can do," he protests weakly. The healer shakes her head again, curls bouncing.

   "Not against that sort of magic." She sets her cloth back on the beside table and contemplates Juniper's lifeless form, hands on hips. "There’s research being done into alleviating the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, but nothing practical has come of it so far." Her jaw tenses in the first real emotion Felix has seen from her. "There’s a reason that Curse is unforgivable."

   The healer bends over the bed to smooth down the sheet, tucking excess fabric in around the inert body. Satisfied with the result, she straightens and considers Felix carefully.

   "So. Do you think you can manage to stay awake through the evening now you've had your kip, or should I call in a trainee to relieve you?"

   There's no hiding the burning in his face this time, but Felix draws himself up in spite of it and tries to look as competent as possible.

   "It won't happen again, I assure you."

   She gives another curt nod and bustles around the bed.

    "There's a bell on the table. Give a ring if anything changes. My trainee will hear it."

-

    Foregoing the treacherously cosy armchair, Felix perches on the edge of the bed beside Juniper's trembling hand. Even without the healer's admonition, he would not have been able to return to sleep.

   Fears for Juniper's safety have always plagued Felix. He's endured more than one restless night worrying what might be happening to her thousands of miles away. But everything he's imagined feeling should the worst occur - grief and pain and regret - such easy emotions have no place here. What Felix feels he has no words for. There's only a wrenching in his gut and a scream building in his chest, threatening to erupt uncontrollably, like vomit. Dead or mad, somehow both carry the same crushing weight. The thought that who Juniper is will be gone forever is inconceivable. It pulls at the very threads of Felix's mind, stretching it in the most horrid way.

    Felix reaches for Juniper's hand, cradling it delicately in both of his own like an eggshell. He can feel the restless twitching of her fingers, every other part of her so unnaturally still. She's never been this still in life, he thinks. And the unconscious word choice brings horrified tears to his eyes he cannot blink away.

   Felix hasn't cried since he was a small child. It was never an acceptable expression in his family. Even now, a part of him twinges with fear as tears run sloppily down his cheeks and nose. Some instinct imprinted in him aches with the memory of the physical pain crying awards. But jinxes and hexes seem like nothing to Felix now. He would take them in a heartbeat over this.

   Tears seem to loosen Felix's tongue, and all the confessions and apologies churning inside him burst forth unbidden.

  “Juniper. Oh, gods, Juniper. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

   He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing them against her knuckles, and then her fingertips, uncurling her shaking fingers to place a kiss against her palm. It's riddled with tiny cuts, and older, shiny pink scars.

   Felix knows the story behind those now: souvenirs of her fight with the guardian of the Vault of Ice in her second year. Thirteen years old, and battling for her life against an enchanted knight, unmoved by her age or her lack of experience. By all accounts, it's a fight Juniper should never have survived. But she did. Somehow, she always does.

   Felix sniffs and wipes the heel of his free hand across his cheeks.

  “Juniper, please. Please, be okay," he murmurs against her fingers like a prayer. "You can fight this. Whatever it is. You're strong. The strongest person I know, and I-” He chokes as a sob tries to escape around his words. "I need you to be okay. I need-"

   Felix's words are interrupted by the door opening for a second time. And something in the way the lock clunks, a louder, more forceful sound than it's usual click, sets his nerves on edge. Dropping Juniper's hand, he whips around and draws his wand in one smooth motion, pointing it directly at the man whose back is now pressed against the closed door.

   The intruder is dressed in lime green robes, but they fit him uncomfortably, a size too small for his well-built frame, and Felix doesn’t have to recognise him to know he isn’t really a healer. Except for the fact that his face isn't cracked into a lop-sided grin, the man looks exactly as Felix remembers, even if it's been over a decade since they last met. The man's hand tightens over his own wand as he catches sight of Felix's, but he adjusts his face to something politely professional.

   "Sorry, must have the wrong room."  

   His hand is on the doorknob when Felix says, "Jacob Windsong."

   If Juniper's brother is startled at being recognised, he doesn’t show it.  He merely furrows his brow at Felix curiously.

   "Do I know you?"

   "Felix Rosier.”

   Jacob cocks his head in mild surprise. "Blimey. Didn’t recognise you."

  "It's been a long time." Felix's voice is calm, but he can feel anger bubbling up inside him. If there’s any one person who is really to blame for Juniper's condition, it’s the man in front of him.

   "For you, maybe," replies Jacob cryptically. He glances from Felix to the bed. "I see you've met my sister. How is she?"

   Jacob's conversational tone, as though they've met at the grocer's and are forced by social convention to make polite inquiries after one another, strains Felix's self-control.

   "How does she look?" he asks wildly, a flailing hand indicating the bed beside him. "She's been tortured and cursed! No one at the school could wake her, and the healers don't even know if she'll survive! Thanks to you!"

   Jacob flinches as if Felix has thrown something at him. "It's not my fault."

   "Are you mad?" Felix's temper rises with each word. "You're the reason she's here! She got herself mixed up in cursed vaults and bloody cults looking for you!"

   "I know. And I am sorry about all that. And I have done my best since I've been back to make sure no one got to her, but it's a bit of full time gig, that. I warned her to stay out and let me handle it.”

   Felix's mirthless laugh is dangerously close to a shriek. "You thought she would stay away if you just told her to? Have you ever met Juniper?"

   Jacob ignores this, considering Felix curiously instead.  

   "How do you know Juniper? What are you doing here?"

   Heat creeps up Felix's cheeks and his indignation flags. "I...was her prefect in school. Now, we're...friends."

   Jacob takes in Felix's words and the obvious embarrassment rising in his face, and gives a hearty guffaw.

   "Friends?" he repeats, his shoulders jerking with short harsh laughs.

   "Yes," Felix declares, chin raised defiantly. "She needed someone to look after her for the last six years while you've been missing." He gives the last word a sarcastic emphasis, and Jacob's smile becomes a grimace.

   "Oh, well, you've certainly done a bang-up job, haven't you?" he mocks, and Felix snaps.

   "Impedimenta!" he cries without stopping to think. The spell is unexpected, and Jacob has no time to block it. He throws himself sideways, hitting the floor in a roll and straightening up on the other side of the bed, wand raised defensively.

   "Bloody hell, you want to bring whole hospital in here?!"

   "Get out, then," demands Felix, breathing rapidly.

   Jacob eyes Felix’s outstretched wand, then the bed where Juniper remains motionless. With a sigh, he lowers his wand.    

   "Believe it or not,” he says testily, adjusting his too-right robes, “I didn't risk my life and freedom just to come here and have a chinwag with you." He takes a cautious step closer to the head of the bed. "I'm here to help."

   "How can you possibly help?"

   “I think I know what curse was used on her. I might be able to wake her up.”

   Hope flickers to life inside Felix, nudging his anger aside. "How could you know that? The professors don't even know."

   Jacob gives a derisive snort. "Let's just say, I know the way this organization works." He holds up a hand to stifle Felix's further questions. "But it’s too complicated to explain now. Just let me try something."

   Taking another step, Jacob lifts his wand again, pointing it toward Juniper.

   "Expelliarmus!"

   Jacob's wand leaps from his outstretched hand to the floor, where Felix summons it quickly and sticks it into his back pocket. He aims his own wand directly at Jacob's face, now screwed up in irritation.

   "Merlin's pants, I said I'm trying to help her!”

   "How do I know you’re really who you say you are? You could be someone from R disguised as Jacob Windsong come to finish his sister off. Or you could have been working with them all along."

   Jacob crosses his arms. "That'd be a pretty stupid disguise, don’t you think? I’m wanted by the Ministry and Dumbledore and several other parties, none of which are looking to buy me a drink. Hardly the best way to get around, got up as a wanted criminal."

   True, but Felix doesn't lower his wand. Jacob sighs and spreads his arms wide in supplication.

   "How can I prove I’m me, then? You don’t know the first thing about me, so it’s not like I can answer any questions." He gestures vaguely toward Felix. "I remember meeting you once last year. Or..." He pauses, and obvious unease crosses his features. "No. I suppose... it was quite a few years ago, wasn't it? Time is still a bit...” He waggles his fingers vaguely. "Anyway, I saved your arse from some Gryffindor you were picking on. That do?"**

   The only other person Felix has ever related this story to is Juniper. He supposes Jacob himself could have told an associate, but it seems unlikely.

   "So, you’re you," acknowledges Felix grudgingly, his wand arm beginning to ache. "That doesn’t mean you’re on her side."

   "I have always been on her side," argues Jacob. Felix lets out a  "Ha!" of disbelieving laughter, and Jacob's eyes flash. "Look, believe what you like about me, it’s probably not half true. But I have always loved Juniper and done everything I could to keep her safe."

   Felix laughs again, a harsh sound devoid of any humour. He feels as incensed as Jacob looks.

   "You don’t think it’s killed me to find out everything that’s happened to her while I’ve been trapped?" Jacob protests. "That she's been all on her own? Facing my enemies?"

   "Then why didn’t you stay with her when she found you?" counters Felix. “She’s devoted nearly half her life to finding you, at the expense of everything and everyone. And you wouldn't even give her the time of day!"

   "You don't know what you're talking about!" Jacob's voice has risen now, too. "You don't have the first idea what's really going on or what these people are capable of. This isn't over, and Pip won’t be safe until it is! I started this mess and I have to finish it. I owe it. To her!"

   A brief silence follows this declaration. Felix's wand arm drops a few degrees.

   "Pip?" he asks, his voice strained, unsure if it wants to laugh or cry or yell some more.

   Jacob blinks. "Juniper," he explains. "That's what I called her. When she was a kid." A very small smile breaks up the storm clouds in his face. "She always hated it."

    Jacob's smile is so similar to the genuine one Felix has seen in rare moments on Juniper's own face it causes his stomach to somersault. And the dreadful possibility of never seeing that smile aimed at him again smothers Felix's anger. For a minute, both men can only stare at the girl lying lifeless on the bed, entirely unmoved by their screams or spells. The reality of the danger she's in hovers ominously over them both.

   When Jacob speaks again, his voice is soft and urgent. "If you're really her friend, then you'll let me try the counter curse. If I'm wrong, it won't hurt her. I promise."

   Felix's wand wavers, then falls. He reaches into his back pocket for Jacob's wand and holds it out to him. Jacob receives it with a short nod of thanks. Gazing down at his sister, he runs a hand over her hair just once, pushing it back from her forehead.  Felix feels a quick pang of irrational jealousy. Without further sentiment, the elder Windsong aims his wand at Juniper's temple and mutters something under his breath.

   Nothing happens.

   Felix waits expectantly for Jacob to try again, but the man simply tucks his wand away and addresses Felix.

   "Listen, when she wakes up - "

   "What do you mean, 'when she wakes up'?" Felix interrupts. "It didn't work."

   Jacob shakes his head. "It will. Or it should. It isn't instant. But, I think the curse is lifted, she's just asleep now. Look." He tilts his head in the direction of Juniper's chest, which Felix realises with a jolt is now rising and falling gently. ”She'll wake up soon, and when she does she's going to have a bit of a time adjusting. That curse can give you some pretty rough nightmares."

   "I think nightmares will be the least of her problems. They -" Felix's voice catches. "They don’t even know if she’ll be sane."

   Jacob glances down again and for the first time his face isn’t the confident mask Felix has only ever seen on him.

   "I - I can't do anything about that," says Jacobs haltingly, watching his sister's slight breathing. His face tightens once more. "All I can do is make sure no one gets to her again."

   With that, Jacob moves briskly toward the door. A quick side step allows Felix to grab the older man's arm before he reaches it.

   "No," Felix objects firmly. "You need to be here when she wakes up. She'll want to see you."

   "No, I need to go find who did this to her," Jacob argues, trying to wrench his arm away and surprised when he’s unable to break Felix’s grip. Felix smirks. What three years of working with dragons has done for his muscle definition is not his least favourite post-Hogwarts accomplishment.

   "So, revenge is more important to you than your sister?"

   "Taking care of her is most important." Jacob makes another effort to jerk his arm away from Felix, but the dragonologist holds on fast.

   "She doesn't need you to take care of her. She needs you to be here with her. You're her family."

    Jacob throws his head back, growling in frustration.

   "Listen," he pleads. "Once she wakes, this place will be swarming with healers and aurors and people who are looking for me. We can hardly be a proper family if I'm locked in a cell, can we?"

   "So, you're just going to leave her. Again."

   "I have to."

   Felix shakes his head at the man in front of him, then releases his arm in disgust.

   Felix had always assumed Jacob Windsong was dead. Not that he would ever tell Juniper. His memory of Jacob, and the way Juniper described him, Felix couldn't imagine any other possible scenario. Why else would he leave the sister he so clearly cared for? A sister he doted on, wrote to constantly, treated like a best friend. At least, that was how Juniper had always described their relationship. But as he stares at the door now closed behind Jacob, Felix has to wonder just how reliable Juniper's memories of her brother really were.

-

   His thoughts are interrupted by a scream.

   Anyone who works in close proximity to dragons becomes quickly accustomed to screams. In three years, Felix has heard men, women, and children shriek in terror at the sight of a soaring Vipertooth. He can distinguish howls of agony caused by dragonfire meeting skin from the anguished wails at its destruction of homes and villages. He himself has screamed in pain as a dragon's talon rips cleanly through the skin of his throat.

   But this scream is different. It’s the sort that chills the blood. A bottomless sound of torment and hopelessness, like Felix has never heard. And instead of inspiring him to action, as screams have come to do, this excruciating noise makes him want to hide. He knows the sound is coming from the bed behind him, which means there's only one logical source.

   Two people in lime-green robes burst through the door, nearly knocking Felix over in their rush to reach the bed. Felix can only hope they’re trustworthy trainees because he's neglected to ask for the password. He cannot think at all as the healers draw their wands, speaking rapidly to each other, trying various spells and incantations. But nothing they cast alters the scream by a decibel.

   Felix closes his eyes, unable to face the bed. He cannot watch Juniper make that terrible noise; doesn't want to connect that sound with her. He stands entirely frozen as the scream drags on, fighting the urge to cover his ears or run from the room entirely, until a forceful hand grips his shoulder and shakes him.

   “What’s happened?”

   Felix recognises the voice distantly.

   "She... she started screaming," he answers, his own voice coming to him from far away.

   There's a snort of exasperation. "Yes, that’s obvious, but what did they do? How did they wake her?"

   When Felix doesn't answer, the hand shakes his shoulder again, the force rattling his teeth. It clears Felix's head just enough for him to focus on the disfigured man from before. He's staring intently at Felix with his normal eye, the strange blue one rolled back in his head. Beyond him, Felix catches sight of Professor Snape hunched over the bed next to the frantic healers.

   "Answer me! What-"

   The man breaks off abruptly, and a different sort of ringing fills Felix’s ears. It's a few seconds before he recognises the sound as silence. The screaming has stopped. Ignoring the man in front of him, Felix cranes his neck so he can see to the bed where Juniper has fallen back against the pillow. Panic reasserting itself, he tries to push forward, but the man has Felix’s shoulder in a vice.

   "You! Boy! You were supposed to be guarding her. What happened? She didn’t just wake up like this on her own."

   "Yes, she did," Felix snaps. "I mean, she just started screaming, I don't know if she was awake. Her brother said-"

   "Jacob Windsong was here?" Both the man's eyes are on Felix now, and even Snape has whipped around in alarm.

   "Yes. He came to see Juniper. He-" Felix draws a shaky breath, trying to collect his thoughts, still scattered by the unearthly scream. “He said he could help her. That he knew what curse was cast on her."

   The man shakes Felix again, this time in eagerness. "What did he say the curse was? How did he counter it?"

   Felix steps back, wrenching his shoulder away from the heavily scarred man.

   "He didn't say."

   "He didn’t say what the curse was or he didn't say how to counter it?"

    A dull throb has sprung to life in Felix's temple, and he rubs at his forehead in weary frustration.

   "Neither. He didn't....didn't say anything specific."

    The man's blue eye rolls madly in its socket. "You didn’t ask him? You let him cast a spell on Windsong and didn't bother to ask what it was?"    

   Felix can feel the embarrassment crawl across his face, but doesn't answer, just digs his heels against his eyes until he sees stars.

   The man utters a low sound of disgust and limps heavily to the bed, edging between the trainee healers to get a better look at Juniper. Snape takes the man's place in front of Felix, his expression hard and calculating.

   "Did Jacob Windsong say anything else?"

   Felix has no desire to recount his conversation with Juniper's brother, so he shakes his head.

   "Nothing important." Snape's eyes flash dangerously, and Felix hastens to add. "He said...he just said he was trying to keep Juniper safe. From R."

   "For all we know it wasn’t even the Windsong boy," calls the other man from the bedside. "Could have been any one of the outfit in disguise, and this idiot wouldn’t know the difference."

   Irritation pulses against Felix's skull.

   "As a matter of fact, I thought of that as well. But he knew things that only the real Jacob Windsong would know."

   "Did he now?" asks the man condescendingly.

   "Yes," Felix insists. "It was him. I’m sure of it."

   The man merely makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, a laugh or a hacking cough. He throws himself into the armchair now pressed against the wall to make more room around the bed. One of the trainee healers moves as well, busying himself over the bedside table, and Felix catches sight of Juniper. She's still, but breathing regularly.

   "What did you do her? Why was she screaming? Will she be alright?"

   Felix directs his question at the healers, but it’s Snape who answers him.

   "They have given her a Draught of Peace, but we do not know any more than you, Mr Rosier. It is still unclear what curse she was under or why she was unresponsive. Are you sure Jacob Windsong didn't-"

   "Rosier? Did you say Rosier?"

    The scarred man stands slowly, both eyes fixed unblinkingly on Felix.

   "You wouldn't be related to the late Evan Rosier, now, would you?" he asks, gnarled hand clenching around his wand.

   "He was my cousin," answers Felix, confused by this strange change of subject. 

    What's left of the man's nose seems to quiver in unspeakable rage, as he draws himself up to full height.

   "Well now. That's one mystery solved. No wonder he couldn’t ask any pertinent questions.” He advances on Felix with a menacing limp. "He's probably in league with R, himself. Sent here by the lot of them to keep tabs on her, were you?"

   Felix retreats against the wall to keep the man's wand from poking him in the chest. He's so taken aback, it's several seconds before he feels fear, and another before he feels anger. There’s no time to formulate a scathing retort, however, before Snape steps between them. He holds his wand at his side casually, but Felix notices the Professor's knuckles are white.

   "Moody, I can assure you Mr Rosier is not in league with R."

   Felix can see the man's lips move in response, but his ears have stopped working.

   "Moody?" he repeats, his exhausted brain trying to call up the meaning associated with the name. "Mad-Eye Moody?"

   And Felix remembers. His father white as a sheet, his mother sobbing, ministry officials delivering the news impassively. Felix isn't sure how he feels. All he can think of is what his father would say if he knew he was the same room as the man who killed Evan.

   "Yeah, that’s right, boy." Moody's mouth twists into a grotesque sneer. "Know who I am, do you? Surprised you and your Death Eater family don’t have my picture up for target practice.“

   It isn't the first time Felix has heard an accusation like this, not by a long shot. But it's been so many years, it takes a moment for the old indignation and shame to uncoil within him, like an aged dragon.

   "I am not a Death Eater," he seethes, voice shaking.

   "We'll soon find out." Moody retorts, and makes a grab for Felix's left arm. Snape steps in front of the scarred hand, and for a moment the two men glare at each other, wands half-raised.

   "Please, not in here," says a timid voice from near the bed. One of the trainee healers wrings his hands nervously as he watches the scuffling men by the door. "I'm... I'm afraid I...I must insist you take this outside. This patient is still seriously injured. She needs...to rest.” The trainee grips the bedstead to support his weight, as if this short speech has drained him of all energy.

   Moody takes a step a back, glowering at Felix and Snape. He’s breathing hard, whereas Felix isn't sure he can breathe at all.

   “Get out,” demands the auror.

    "What? No!” protests Felix. “I haven't done anything wrong, you can't-" 

    His argument is cut short by Snape, who grabs Felix’s upper arm and pulls him from the room, releasing him only when the door is shut firmly behind them. Felix stumbles, rubbing at his bruised arm. 

   "Professor, I swear, I made sure it was Jacob Windsong. I didn't just let anyone waltz in here. And he woke her up, didn't he? He helped her! I-"

   "Mr Rosier," Snape interjects. “No one is doubting your devotion to Miss Windsong. But there is nothing more you can do for her now. You've been here nearly an entire day, and if I'm not mistaken, you have an important interview in the morning. I suggest you take some time to... " He eyes Felix’s wrinkled robes and uncharacteristically disheveled hair: “Prepare yourself.”

   Felix blinks. He turns automatically to the window for some indication of the time. The streaky glass reveals darkness, though Felix isn't sure it can be trusted to show the sky’s actual appearance since it's secretly a door. He hasn't thought to check the time once since he's been here, has entirely forgotten the world outside the hospital room. None of it seems of any importance in light of Juniper's peril. But this job at the Romanian Reserve is a rare opportunity. And if he misses his interview, there’s no knowing when the position will come available again.

  As if he can read Felix’s thoughts, Snape adds, "I doubt very much whether Miss Windsong would appreciate if you missed your interview on her account." And Felix cannot argue against that. 

  "I'll come back. After the interview." It's a statement, not a request. 

  Snape arches an eyebrow but makes no other response. Felix takes a reluctant step back.

  "And if something were to happen to her before then...would you...let me know?"

   The Potions Master's slow blink is his only indication of assent.

   Felix takes another step, then pauses, shuffling his feet. His fingers come up to trace the scar on his neck unconsciously.

    "Professor." Felix meets Snape's eyes imploringly. "I'm not any of the things he said. Moody. I'm not - I'm not a Death Eater."

    Snape's face is still entirely inscrutable, but he gives the smallest of nods as he answers, "I know, Felix."

-

*A/N: This is a reference to one of the last bits of the Quidditch Season 1 storyline (which I'm aware is technically supposed to take place in MC's second year, but which in my story is moved to her third.) The title of the article is my own invention. **A/N: Reference to my Felix Rosier backstory Four Things Felix Rosier Remembered.

Read Chapter 5 | View all stories on the Masterpost

[eirist]

Hello there! How are you? Love your page and fics! 💚 So, here's a prompt: Zoro and Nami end up drinking alone (During Wano), and realising how much they've missed these moments alone, and maybe show a little how they care about each other? ;)

LITTLE BITS AND PIECES OF HEAVEN

CALM BEFORE THE STORM

One-shot #: 14

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Light fluff)

Note: To be honest, this one-shot just won’t cooperate. I have drafts after drafts. I’ve re-written multiple times and finally, it let itself be written. To anon who requested this, I'm really glad you love my page and fics! And sorry for the long wait! Enjoy.

Summary: The swordsman and the navigator share a calm-before-the-storm moment.  

“Please don’t tell me that you are actually drunk?”  

Zoro reluctantly opened his eye and wasn’t at all surprised to see Nami looming over him as he leaned against a random tree trunk, about to lose himself into his much needed nap. With a hand on her waist and hips cocked to the side, she stared at him with one eyebrow raised.

“And what if I am?”

She pursed her lips at his answer. “Tch. That’s just disappointing Zoro.”

The swordsman snorted. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He drawled sarcastically, cocking his own eyebrow at her. Like he would get drunk with the measly amount of sake they all had during dinner.

A cheeky grin appeared on Nami’s face. “Well if that finally settles who’s the real heavy drinker between us… then yeah.”

Zoro huffed before closing his eye again; intent on ignoring Nami and just sleeping off his discontentment with the inadequate drink earlier.

He felt her settle beside him before a hard object was suddenly rammed into his abdomen, momentarily cutting of his air and prompting him to let out an undignified ‘ooofh’. 

“What the hell Nami!?” He shouted, gritting his teeth and glaring daggers at her. 

The navigator’s eyes crinkled with mirth at his reaction. He drew back a little, a bit surprised to find himself almost face to face with her.

“Provisions,” she answered nonchalantly, prodding his middle with the object she was holding in a rather forceful manner.

Zoro looked down, surprised that the thing she was shoving at him was a sake gourd.

“Sanji-kun made sure you have enough sake to keep you in tip-top fighting condition.”

“Ero-cook?”

“Ain’t that sweet of him?”

The green-haired man scoffed. “You think I’d believe that swirly cares about my needs?”

Nami rolled her eyes at his response. “Whether you believe it or not, the important thing is you have enough alcohol to stuff down that throat of yours and knock yourself out cold.”

“Oh really? And to what do I owe this honor?”

“Who to be more specific,” she corrected. “Well aside from Sanji-kun… me of course! That’s roughly a hundred thousand belis on your tab.”

“…”

“Come on, who do you think convinced him to get all that meat and alcohol huh?“ 

Zoro smirked at her. "Knew that aho cook doesn’t give a damn about what I want.”

The navigator narrowed her eyes at him. “Hmmm? And you are saying that I do?”

“You got me the alcohol witch.”

“Touché.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered." 

The mapmaker regarded him disbelievingly for a moment. "Oh you don’t want it?” She moved to withdraw her hand but Zoro was faster. He closed his own around her wrist, stopping her.  

“I never said I didn’t want it.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Nami let out a ‘hmph’ and pulled her hand away from his grip.

Well… tried to pull away to be exact.

She frowned at him. “Zoro!”

His other hand moved to snatch the sake away from her. 

Her lips curled into a smile. “And here you got me thinking that you don’t want it. Too bad… I would drink it myself.”

The swordsman huffed. “You don’t even like sake.”

“Hmm… not quite true,” Nami tapped a finger on her cheek. “I have preferences. But beggars can’t be choosers right? Alcohol is still alcohol.” She swiftly filched the sake gourd from his grip and winked at him while uncorking it.

His lone eye widened as she brought it to her lips and drank the potent liquid as if it was just water.

“Oi!” 

“Aah! That was nice!” She remarked, licking her lips and grinning mischievously as she handed the sake back to him.

Zoro was looking sullen as he shook the container, trying to gauge the amount the cat thief had drank, knowing she can guzzle it all until the last drop without keeling over.

That’s actually one of the reasons why the navigator is secretly his favorite drinking buddy.

“What’s with that expression Zoro?” Nami pouted at him. “I saved some for you.”

The former pirate hunter just shrugged as he flicked a glance at her before returning his attention back to the gourd.

“Problem?” Nami shifted closer to him, peering at his face. “I don’t have cooties Zoro!” She growled at him when she realized his hesitation. “The nerve! I didn’t know you are this finicky!”

“I am not!” Zoro snarled at her.

“Could it be…” Nami drew back a little with a gasp. “You’re thinking that it’s kinda like an indirect kiss?”

“The hell Nami!!!”

“Oh Zoro, you’re making me blush,��� she cupped both of her cheeks with her hands in an attempt to look like an embarrassed, bashful maiden.

“Teme…”

“Why… you’re blushing as well Zoro!” She teasingly pointed out.

“Shut up Nami! Don’t you go pulling that crap on me now,” Zoro groused. “How many times have we drunk in the same bottle huh?”

Nami suddenly dropped her teasing facade. “Too few since we arrived here in the New World,” she replied with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

It made him pause when she unexpectedly turned a bit serious at his question. “You’re counting.”

The mapmaker shrugged her shoulders. “Not hard to remember since we haven’t been drinking together a lot.”

Silence enveloped them at her answer. True it had been a long time since they have sat down together to drink. It’s not like they have a choice. From the moment they sailed into the New World seas, the crew had spent more time separated than together.

“When was the last time we did this Nami?” Zoro inquired after finally taking a drink of the sake he was holding.

“Fishman Island,” Nami responded, the wistful smile never leaving her face. “Before Usopp crashed our two-man party from too much eating.”

“Heh,” the memory made him grin. “Before Chopper appeared dragging that ero-kappa who nearly fainted from ogling at the mermaids too much.“

"Yes. Before you decide to just sleep on me since we’ve got company.” Nami added, taking the sake gourd from him as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his white yukata.

“That seems long ago, huh?" 

Nami nodded. “Yup. We weren’t able drink together when we were in Zou.”

“That’s because you were too busy worrying about that stupid cook.” The swordsman grumbled.

“Be nice Zoro. He’s your crew mate too.” Nami drank, letting the sake’s taste fill her mouth.

“Pffft.”

She threw the gourd lightly towards Zoro who caught in effortlessly. He scrutinized the sake container in his hand, coming to a conclusion that it wouldn’t last long. Not when he and Nami are the ones drinking it. 

"So, are you ready for the upcoming battle?” Nami asked out of the blue. “It’s just in a few days…”

Zoro paused midway to bringing the container to his lips. "I’m always ready for battle Nami. I’m a swordsman.”

“Aren’t you nervous?”

An arrogant smirk appeared on his face. “As if.”

She laughed despite herself. “What a stupid thing to ask…”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm… This is a disaster. Yonko after yonko.”

“Can’t help it. We will eventually face them one way or another.”

“But not like one after the other.” Nami complained with a pout. She grabbed the sake from Zoro again after he finished drinking. “We just faced off with Big Mom now here we are about to face Kaido.”

The green-haired man just grunted something inaudible as she gulped down a mouthful of sake. He watched her in the corner of his eye with concealed admiration. A flush had found its way to her cheeks but he knows that she was still far from inebriation.

She made a smacking sound with her lips after drinking and he motioned to her to hand him the sake gourd.

Nami shifted closer to him as she complied. “Are you really ready?” She queried again, looking at him curiously. “You just got this new sword and you only have a few days to get used to it.”

She knows how Zoro takes pride in mastering his katanas.  But with only a short time left until the battle…. 

The former pirate hunter tilted his head towards her, meeting her gaze at her with one serious gray eye.

“It’s more powerful than your last one,” Nami continued. “And kinda frightening.” She glanced at the black sword he just recently acquired and recalled how he managed to cut off a rather large part of the land with just one swing as it sucked the haki from him. 

“Why? Worried?”

Nami’s head snapped up towards him at that. She felt her face turned a deeper shade of red as he voiced out what she was hoping wouldn’t be obvious.

“Like hell am!” She scowled at him, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

Zoro was looking amusedly at her as she folded her arms across her chest and looked away.

“You don’t believe in me Nami?”

That made her stop. She worried her lower lip and forced herself to look at him straight in the eye. “Of course I do,” she admitted albeit glumly.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, right?”

Nami studied his face as he held her gaze. Zoro is so strong—a fact that she should not forget. It was just probably the pre-battle jitters getting to her. 

She glanced at his swords again. Three katanas that helped made him formidable. Her eyes lingered at the black one, Enma, the replacement of the one he got from Thriller Bark. 

Hitetsu had said something about how a normal swordsman would’ve turned into a dry husk from using it. Zoro merely got his arm sucked dry before reclaiming his haki back from the sword. A feat that left most of their allies impressed.

“I keep forgetting how much of a monster you are and it would take a lot to defeat you.” Nami said with a sigh, leaning back against the tree.

“You sound disappointed,” Zoro said with a laugh. He scrutinized her for a moment before nudging her with his shoulder as he handed her the sake back. “Thanks I guess.” He spoke softly, clearly understanding what was going on inside her head.

Nami puffed her cheeks at him. “I’m not really worried about you!” She retorted, taking a hefty swig of the sake, to cover up her mortification. Zoro had just read right through her.

Zoro raised an eyebrow at her and chuckled. “Don’t choke on it witch.”

She glowered at the Supernova after she finished drinking. “I’m actually more worried about me!” The navigator declared in a feisty manner.

“That’s so typically you.”

“Of course! I’m not made for battle! Not everyone in the crew’s formidable you know.”

“But eventually you’ll see it through if need be.”

“How sure are you?”

Zoro shrugged. “You wouldn’t be here with us if that’s not the case.”

Nami stared at him. Stared for a long time that Zoro began to feel uneasy under her gaze and felt a warm sensation creeping from his neck to his face. 

“Sometimes you are not so bad Zoro,” she whispered with a genial smile.

He scoffed, trying to hide his now blushing face by grabbing the sake from her and chugging down the liquid. 

This time they silently drank; passing the container back and forth as the wind blew and rocked the bamboo trees around them. The soft rustling of its leaves and the rattling sound emanating from the stalks was amazingly soothing as they both enjoyed this rare and—unknown to each other—much-anticipated time together.  

Nami noticed his relaxed expression and the way the corner of his lips were quirked up. 

“You are smiling,” she observed when she passed him the sake again.

“Can i not?”

“Means you’re enjoying this.”

Zoro just chuckled at her. But did not elaborate.

Of course he enjoys drinking with her. She’s the only one in their crew who can keep up with him after all.

But what he likes most about drinking with her is when they get to share some quiet instances when they are just alone with each other without fighting, without getting in each other’s nerves. 

They are just together to simply enjoy each other’s presence.

And truth be told… it just sink into him tonight just how much he actually missed these kind of moments with her.

“Are you not enjoying it too?” He casually asked, but realized from the smile adorning her pretty face that she was thinking and feeling the same thing as him.

“I honestly like drinking with you,” Nami admitted, even though she did not answer his question. “We almost never do it anymore.”

“You missed it?”

She grinned. “Didn’t realize how much until now. How about you? You didn’t?”

Zoro smiled. Not his typical downright irritating smirk. But a genuine, happy smile. 

“What?”

“Wouldn’t have shared this sake with you if not.”

This time her smile reached her eyes, as her warm, brown orbs gleamed enchantingly with delight.

He shook the sake container, showing her that the drink they were sharing was nearly gone. 

Nami laughed softly. “What do you say to catching up?”

The smile on Zoro’s face widened. “I say yes.”

They looked at each other.

“I just hope shitty cook’s provisions can last long.” Zoro said as he drank the remaining contents of the alcohol, shaking it a bit to make sure not a single drop was left.

“Of course,” Nami said confidently. “I made sure of that.” She threw a mischievous smile at him. “Are you up for pilfering the stocks?”

“Right under aho cook’s nose?" Zoro’s grin was shark-like. "Definitely." 

She laughed as Zoro stood up. And he surprised her by offering his hand to help her to stand. 

"Come on. Let’s get our drinks and continue this Nami.”

“Better do something fun first… in case we die on the raid or something.” Nami said cheekily as she took his hand and let him pull her up.

“I’m not planning on dying in the upcoming battle witch!”

“Good.”

“Besides I want to look for that Touji’s sake, said to be the finest here in Wano,” Zoro grinned at her. “I’ll find it then we can drink it ‘til one of us keels over.”

“And see who can really outlast each other!” Nami agreed. She squeezed his hand. “I’ll take you up on that.”

“It’s a promise.”

Nami smiled radiantly at that. He never breaks his promises.

She was about to take a step away from him when he stopped her.

“’Til then don’t you go dying evil witch,” Zoro murmured, shifting closer to kiss her forehead.

Nami closed her eyes, reveling at the sensation as he let his lips linger longer against her.

“Right back at you,” she whispered when he pulled away. “You still owe me that sake.”

He laughed. It was something to look forward to once everything is over. 

“Yakosoku.”

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @ladymatt!

*****

Take me to dinner first

Magnus Bane had taken a trip with some of his friends to Las Vegas and, while they had retired earlier, he’d stayed out, getting steadily drunker. The casino, Devil’s Snare, was a downworld place, so he had no reason to hide himself. Even better, shadowhunters were a rare sight. In his drunk state, he’d gambled a little; won some, lost some…won big. He would be thankful the fey didn’t rule the casino if he had enough mind to. 

Eventually, he took a break in the fancy lounge, cocktail in front of him and some actually good music playing above him. He was still drunk, but not in the way that would have him flying carpets or flirting with a dinner plate. Ah, good times with his friends, even if one of them was a grumpy cabbage. He was about to take a sip of his drink when three black-clad figures entered the room. 

Shadowhunters.

They always had a knack of spoiling the atmosphere, even if they were usually rather attractive. All young, one female and two males. The girl strode through the room seeming to lead the boys, one of which guided the second one after her. He found himself staring a little at the one being guided; he had dark hair and was quite tall. On closer inspection, he had the most gorgeous blue eyes. 

This was how he found himself suddenly with the girl in front of him; he hadn’t noticed that she had stopped at his table. Ah, he recognised her. Isabelle Lightwood. Party crasher.

“Magnus Bane! Thank the Angel for a familiar face. Look, I know this is a bit of an unreasonable request, but we don’t have time to come up with a better plan. My brother’s drink was spiked by something and we’ve just received a call, an emergency demon hunting. Can you look after him? I know you’re trustworthy, which is why we came to you. We’ll pay you afterwards, we just need to go now,” Isabelle explained. 

Magnus blinked at her and looked over at the unsteady young man. He shrugged and gestured for her to sit him down at his table. The young man protested a bit, but it was clear he was in no fit state and finally calmed after listening to his sister. The blond one gave him a look before the two dashed off to play hero. 

He turned his attention back to the shadowhunter in front of him, stirring his drink absently. Those blue eyes were staring back at him; no haughty glare he would expect from Nephilim, no suspicion, just…dazed curiosity. Of course, the substance in his system could be preventing him from a usual hostility, but he didn’t care to think too hard. He couldn’t, really, being hazy himself.

“Something the matter, darling?” He asked, wondering exactly how far gone the young man was.

Eyes blinking, embarrassment and a blush filled his face as he looked away, becoming fidgety. It was both awkward and cute, and Magnus never thought he’d think those words about a shadowhunter. Ever. He sipped his drink and didn’t expect anything, but he got it anyway.

“You’re…pretty. Handsome! Sorry. Handsome.” 

Magnus smirked, putting his drink down before stretching his arms out a little cat-like before clasping his hands in front of him, leaning forward. 

“You can call me pretty anytime, darling,” Magnus practically purred. He hadn’t been expecting such words coming from the other man. Perhaps his addled mind was deceiving him.

“Okay. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. You’re pretty. I’m sorry, Im-I’m messed—fuzzy. Bothering you, I should-should go—” 

Alec started to get up and somehow managed not to be too ungraceful about it. Stupid shadowhunter runes, Magnus supposed. He downed his drink before refilling it with magic and downing it again. He was nothing if not a good host. He might as well stoop further to the young man’s level. Speaking of which, he was staring at Magnus’ hands with a dazed expression again. He could have sworn he heard a mumbled ‘pretty’. Maybe not all shadowhunters were terrible.

He stood up, knocking his chair over, and walked over to the tall shadowhunter. Only a little shorter than himself. 

“Well, darling, what is your name? I could just call you pretty boy. I will anyway, there’s no lies here!” Magnus stated with flare. 

“Al-Alec.”

“Well, Al-Alec, I’m Magnus and we’re going to have some fun.”

He watched the man’s eyes widen and his cheeks redden and he couldn’t help giggling. Looping an arm in Alec’s, he pulled him along. He didn’t have any particular direction at the moment; he simply took him through the building, calculating what to do with him. 

They ended up at the slots and Magnus put the coins in while his new companion pulled the levers. Cherry, cherry, cherry. Did he have luck runes on? He had read the Gray Book but couldn’t recall what was in it. Strength…stabby. Oh well. He showed Alec the poker tables then. Alec was a terrible player; his poker face needed serious work for a shadowhunter. Three games and three losses.

“How about one more round? Winner takes all…plus double. Loser pays that double.”

“Gentlemen, I believe we are—” Magnus started. He doubted the shadowhunter had anymore money.

“Yes. One more. Okay.”

Well, he couldn’t call the shadowhunter a quitter. Stubborn like the rest of them. Magnus watched Alec’s terrible poker face once again as he made it obvious that his cards were awful, but still stayed all in. 

“Straight flush,” the competitor revealed. 

Alec looked put out before placing his cards down. “Royal flush.”

Colour him surprised, but Magnus was gleeful as he watched the wolves growl and push the winnings over to Alec, plus the double, muttering about rotten luck and poker faces. Magnus helped him over to the Madam who would cash in the winnings. 

“Well, darling, you are a wonder! Was that all planned?” 

“Uh, um, I guess. It’s easier if they underestimate you.”

“We are going to celebrate. Champagne? Whiskey? Cocktails?”

“Don’t mind.”

“Cocktails it is.”

Magnus ordered two sex on the beaches, one stronger for himself. He was missing the buzz. The good thing about this establishment was that it was large and had a lot to offer. Swimming was out; drunk swimming was a disaster. Karaoke! He wanted to hear Alec’s deep voice in song. 

It would be a good night

Blinking his eyes open, Alec groaned; his mouth was dry, his head felt fuzzy and his cheek felt warm. He took a few moments to get his bearings, trying to figure out what was going on. He was lying down, though his pillow wasn’t soft like it should be, though it wasn’t uncomfortable either. He was topless…that was strange. Wait, his pillow seemed to be moving!

Alec shot up onto his hands, realising there was a half-naked man underneath him and they were in a large, rather fancy bed. His heart beat fast as he looked down in a mixture of confusion and mild terror. What in Raziel’s name was going on?

“Hello Sleeping Beauty.”

His eyes darted to the stranger’s face; ruffled, highlighted hair and cat eyes, handsome. That wasn’t important! He needed to find out what had happened.

“Where…why am…what are…”

He couldn’t get the words out.

“We were drunk, darling. I’m still piecing the puzzle together myself. I just need to sit up and drink a potion…would you be a doll?”

Alec rolled off him like he was burnt, covers dragged up to his chest. This was like some nightmare…no, no. If Alec was honest with himself, this was more like one of his lonely dreams. Ah. That was what this was.

“Just a dream.”

“’Fraid not, Shadowhunter. We’re very much real.”

He watched as the man sat up and conjured a potion bottle in a whisp of blue magic. He looked over at Alec, making him swallow. “Will you be needing one? For the memory, darling.”

Alec shook his head mutely. “I just…need my stele…memory rune.”

The man gave him a brilliant smile, maybe more like a smirk. “Of course, darling.”

He watched as the other man downed the small bottle before snapping it away. He snapped again and handed him  his stele. Alec sat up, still convinced that this was a dream. He put the stele to a spot under his ribs where the silver of the faded Recall rune lay and put it to the skin, redrawing it. He put his stele to the side and lay back, focusing on the memories.

“Marry me,” Alec slurred.

Magnus giggled and slung his arm around him. “Gotta buy me dinner first.”

“Okay.”

Alec was clearly lost in how to get to the restaurant, so Magnus led him. There were so many foods he had never tried and that was ignoring the foods that he couldn’t eat as they were downworld-specific. They chose a few items and shared them, Magnus giggling and saying they felt like a real couple now and Alec spending most of the time spluttering and red-faced. Alec was pretty sure he was seeing double when the bill came; there were more digits added in his haze, but Magnus paid for it. Much to his protest. Wasn’t it supposed to be his treat?

But Magnus pulled him along from place to place; someone fitted him with a nice suit before he had to get into it and waited. Oh yeah. They were getting married. Handsome men didn’t just agree to marry him, so he knew he was dreaming. Therefore, he had asked Magnus to marry him. 

The minstrel guy was a warlock with horns and purple eyes. Not as pretty as Magnus’, it would turn out that he said that out loud. Oops. He held Magnus’ hands, smiling at him. He had rings on his fingers, luckily none on the ring finger he’d read about in mundane books. Alec had only worn his Lightwood family ring on his right hand. 

“Do you Magnus Bane take Alexander Gideon Lightwood to be your husband?” The minstrel asked.

“I do! Alexander, your middle name is Gideon?!”

Alec gestured for the minstrel to continue.

“Do you Alexander Gideon Lightwood take Magnus Bane to be your husband?”

“I do.”

“It is time to exchange rings and make your vows.”

Alec took the ring and placed it onto Magnus’ left ring finger. “I will stab anyone who tries to hurt you. With an arrow or with a dagger. I’ll protect you.”

Magnus giggled as he slid a ring on Alec’s finger too. “I’ll keep you safe, darling, and turn anyone who hurts you into a frog!”

“I now pronounce you both husbands. You may kiss.”

He leant in shyly, but Magnus took his face between his hands and kissed him. There was little elegance, but his lips were soft and his hands found Magnus’ waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his husband back. Magnus’ hands slid down until they clutched Alec’s waist. 

“I have a private room, darling.”

Magnus watched Alec as the young man had his eyes closed, remembering the events of the night before. Of all of the things he had done whilst drunk, this was the most absurd. And he’d flirted with a plate and ridden a flying carpet before! He had been drunk enough to think drinking more had been a good idea, but it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. He hadn’t murdered anyone or stolen anything, hurt anyone. 

“So, uh…”

He smiled at the shadowhunter; this was beyond anything he could have imagined doing, he could tell. Shadowhunters seemed to be very strict and to the book, though some were a little bit rebellious, one way or another. He put his hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort, because while he might find this situation a little funny, he knew the shadowhunter must be conflicted. Not that being married to a shadowhunter was something he would have ever foreseen or, perhaps, soberly chosen, but he chose to see the funny side.

“Such a passionate lover, Mr. Lightwood…well, Lightwood-Bane, now.”

Eyes like deer in headlights.

“I am kidding; you kissed down my chest and fell asleep before anything more sexual could happen, relax. You did not sully yourself with a downworlder quite that badly, I assure you,” Magnus said with a smirk.

“Uh…it’s not…if you were a…shadowhunter, no different…”

Eloquent. The young man was shy. He didn’t seem to have the haughty arrogance of his blond brother, so he’d perhaps cut him a little slack.

“If I were a shadowhunter, darling, I would have been de-runed and disowned years ago; I would have scandalised them from day one.”

It seemed Alec agreed with him, nodding. But there was a smile on his face, so he took that as approval. 

Then he seemed to return to being embarrassed and Magnus had no problem laying there, watching him. He wasn’t exactly a huge fan of the shadowhunters, but this one seemed a bit different. 

“…What do we do?” Alec asked. 

“First, darling, we sleep more. It’s only 7am, far too early for a man of my delicate nature,” Magnus said.

“But—”

“I won’t keep you, but you look about ready to fall asleep yourself,” Magnus said. 

He was right of course, even if the shadowhunter huffed a little. He turned onto his side and looked at him. 

“I don’t suppose you’d let me use you as a pillow this time, husband?” Magnus asked. He didn’t expect a yes, but the redness in his face was worth it.

To his surprise, Alec nodded, still looking rather shocked. 

Alec couldn’t believe that the handsome man he’d accidentally married wanted to…cuddle…of all things. He wasn’t really a cuddler and yet he found himself nodding. It wasn’t like they were going to stay like this and, once it was all settled, he doubted he’d see him again. He knew he wasn’t destined to be happy with a person he was attracted to, so was it wrong to…at least…pretend…for a little while?

He found himself wrapping his arms around him and closing his eyes. If he slept at all, it wasn’t for long. Something woke him and he blinked his eyes open, realising Magnus was chuckling, rubbing his arm.

“Hn?” 

“Enjoying yourself?” 

Alec was confused, until he realised where his hand was and moved it away like he’d been scalded, murmuring quick apologies. 

“No need to apologise; it was quite enjoyable.”

As much as Alec felt surprisingly comfortable, he knew he needed to find his siblings. He wasn’t even sure where they would be and whether or not they completed their mission. He had supposed to be on it, but he must have ingested something that turned him loopy. 

“I need to find my siblings,” Alec said. 

Magnus moved off of him slowly and he felt a little disappointed, but he stood up, quickly finding his top. He felt a tingling and turned to see him dressed. His outfit was as outrageous as he was and yet, he didn’t dislike it.

“Fresh and ready, darling. Shall we go?” 

“We…go?” Alec blinked.

“Technically, they’re my brother and sister-in-law now. Isabelle and James, right?” 

“Jace. I guess.” 

Alec dreaded to think about what his siblings would say, but there was nothing really to do; he had to sort this situation out as well, so it was better to not split up. They went searching, but they weren’t in their rooms, so he went down to the breakfast hall. They were there. He walked over and sat opposite them, their faces concerned.

“Where did you go?” Izzy asked. “We couldn’t find you…we searched everywhere!”

Jace glared at Magnus. “You were supposed to keep an eye on him; what did you do?” 

Magnus simply shrugged and sat down too. “You’re the ones who asked a drunk warlock to watch over him, blondie; it’s bound to end in shenanigans.” 

Alec blushed and tried to figure out how to address the issue at hand; he didn’t think there was any good way to do it. 

“You didn’t seem drunk,” Izzy said sheepishly, looking at her brother. “I’m sorry, we had no other choice; he was the only person I recognised.”

“It’s fine, he took care of me,” Alec said. 

A plate of food appeared in front of him and he looked at Magnus in surprise before murmuring a thanks, tucking in. After some silence, he looked up and realised his siblings were looking at him. 

“What?”

“You’re awfully chummy,” Izzy said.

“Uh, what? We’re not—”

Magnus put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “We got drunk and married, then slept together. We bonded.”

“—Just sleeping,” he added quickly. 

Silence fell while Alec hid his face in his hands; he wasn’t upset, it needed to be told, but it was still embarrassing. But putting his face in his hands was clearly a mistake as Izzy pulled his left hand towards her. 

“Oh, Raziel! Alec, if I’d known you’d get that friendly with Magnus, I would have found someone else. I want you to get out there, but not that fast, Alec!” Izzy said. 

Meanwhile, Jace was glaring at Magnus. 

“We were both drunk, it was no one’s fault,” Alec said, trying to calm them down.

“Besides, we’ll meet with the minister and get this annulled. Happy ending,” Magnus said cheerfully. 

“Not long eighteen and already a divorcee, brother,” Izzy chuckled. 

“Annulment makes it a little different, darling. Like it never happened. Are you ready, darling?” Magnus asked.

“You’re going to have to at least give it a try first and if it doesn’t work, we’ll grant the annulment,” the minister said.

Magnus sighed; it was like something out of that Vegas movie with Cameron and Ashton something. Still, he could think of worse people to be stuck with and a handsome young man wasn’t one of them. He doubted the shadowhunter was going to be all that impressed.

“How long?” Alec asked.

“We’ll re-evaluate this case 15th January.”

Magnus dragged Alec out and sighed. “Sorry, darling, looks like you’re stuck with me for a few months.”

“It’s okay…it’s, uh, you I feel sorry for. I’m not exactly exciting.”

“You don’t seem boring to me; you haven’t once degraded my being a downworlder,” Magnus said. 

“I just don’t see why that would be a problem; you’re a person t—” 

Magnus couldn’t help himself, he swooped in and kissed him on the lips, pulling back with a smirk. 

“Keep up that talk, sweetcheeks, and we’re going to need my room again,” Magnus purred before leading a red-faced Alec towards the lounge area where Jake looked bored and Isabelle was looking at her phone. “We’re back, did you miss us? Slight hitch—ha, pun unintended—we have to wait until the 15th January to get this annulled. Something about giving the marriage a try first.”

Magnus tuned out the noise coming from Jake, even Isabelle was perplexed, instead admiring his glittery purple nails with an outlined heart on them. Shadowhunters. Always so determined to get angry about everything. Then he looked at his sheepish ‘husband’, who seemed to break the mold of what he knew about his people. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 

Magnus had thought too soon; while Alexander wasn’t a problematic housemate, he wasn’t without issue. He found himself worrying sometimes, especially after that one time he came home caked in blood. Alexander being who he was, tried to play it off as nothing before he stumbled. He wasn’t supposed to care this much, but Magnus had never been good at not caring about people, he was just good at hiding it.

So when his hot warrior husband stumbled into his Halloween party, gear torn up, bloodied alongside his siblings, Magnus naturally got them to the guest room quickly. Nothing too major, but they needed a little warlock TLC. After that, some tough love ie. demand they take a shower. 

Needless to say, he took a long swig of his drink after that. His guests weren’t perturbed; some of them even snickered, which he rolled his eyes at. He watched as James and Isabelle made their way through the party, ending up talking to Clary and her friend Simon. He wasn’t sure how they’d found their way here, but he wasn’t a babysitter and Halloween disguised any of his guests who felt no need for glamours. 

Magnus walked into the guest room; Alec’s room, for the time being, spotting him in there with a book. He leant against the door frame.

“Is my party that dull?”

“I’m…not really into parties.”

Magnus noticed Alec’s eyes were on him, taking in his skimpy outfit. Modern day Beetlejuice, except prettier and more glittery. He swayed his hips as he stepped towards him, hem of the tight trousers dangerously low, until he stood in front of a now wide-eyed Alec. He sat down next to him.

“Are you ok, sweetcheeks?” Magnus asked.

Alec laughed at his nickname before blushing even more. He was terribly adorable. 

“I am…Magnus, I, uh, I was wondering…can we try this out? I mean, dating. I like you, I’d like to…take you out to dinner, properly,” Alec said. 

Magnus reached over and kissed his cheek. “Yes, that would be just fine. May I kiss you, Alexander? Properly?” 

Alec didn’t answer, he simply turned and kissed him, unpractised, but charming all the same.

[thegingerwriter]

Istanbul - The Umbrella Academy #1

(Discontinued)

Characters: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five, May (my character) and Vanya Hargreeves.

Word Count: 3944 Words

Warnings: None I think. Occasional swear word, nothing that’s not in the dialogue in the show.

Things you need to know about the character, I’ve added:

- Her power is simply the ability to turn into a cat. No added effects. Just a cat. 

- She is Number 6 and Ben is now Number 7. 

- Her and Five have a very platonic friendship/relationship. Sorry if you thought that was an x reader. 

Hi guys! So I’ve been writing this first chapter since the Umbrella Academy first came out but I wasn’t sure if it was good enough to post! If you’ve watched The Umbrella Academy, this will be easier to understand. Thanks for reading xx

I fell onto Five, hearing him groan underneath me. “Sorry.” I mumbled, pushing myself off of him and rolling onto my back, landing in the dirt. Instantly I noticed I was, in fact, human. I was me again.

Five noticed this too, sitting up to stare at me. “May- you’re- you’re… you.” Five muttered. I guess we were both surprised to find me like this.

We continued to stare at each other and I realised me being human wasn’t the only thing to notice. Aside from me, Five was also different. He was a boy again- the same 13 year old that got himself stuck in the future all those many years ago. Another voice caused us to break out of it, suddenly remembering where we were.

“Is it just me, or do you guys also see little number Five and Six in front of us?” Klaus said and I looked up at him. At all of them. I barely recognised them now. 17 years later they’ve all grown up. Except for us apparently.

“Shit.” I said, glancing at Five who was also starring. Diego, Luther, Vanya, Klaus and Allison. It’s been so long. Five stood up next to me and I followed suit.

What exactly do we tell them? I thought to myself and I could tell Five was thinking the same.

“Anyone wanna explain?” Diego said.

* * *

I sat cross- legged on the bench of the kitchen, the rest of us dead silent as we watched Five at the table, spreading peanut butter on two pieces of bread. He seemed the most relaxed, despite the disbelief the others displayed.

“Wait- where you have you been again?” Allison asked.

“The future. Which sucks by the way.” Five didn’t look up from his peanut butter sandwich.

“Called it!” Klaus hollowered.

I fidgeted with my tattered clothes. “I see we only just missed the funeral.”

Luther looked up at me. “How did you-?” He started but Five cut him off.

“What part of ‘the future’ do you not understand?” He glanced at his sandwich before looking straight at me. “Ruby, could you pass-.” I didn’t let him finish as I chucked him a packet of unopened marshmallows on the bench next to me.

Peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. Now that is something I haven’t seen in a very long time. It’s a Five delicacy.

“You two have just been running around the future for 17 years?” Diego asked.

“We’ve been stuck in the future for…” Five paused to look up at me. “Forty five years, give or take.”

“So... what? You’re both 58?” Luther questioned, looking at the both of us suspiciously.

“No, my consciousness is 58.” Five corrected.

“But we’re both apparently 13 again, unfortunately. I blame him.” I said, nnoddingat him.

“I obviously miscalculated.” He responded, shooting me a look.

“How did you guys even get back in the first place?” Vanya asked.

Five stuffed his sandwich into his mouth, thinking for a second. “I still don’t know how I brought Ruby along with me but,” He swallowed. “In the end, I just had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

The others all went silent. “That doesn’t make sense.” Diego confessed and the others nodded.

“Well it would if you were smarter.” Five retorted and Diego pushed his chair back roughly and stood up. I instantly jumped off the bench and stood in front of him, blocking his path to Five and pushing my hand against his chest. I gave Diego a warning look before he huffed and stepped back.

“What were you even doing in the future for so many years?” Klaus asked, suddenly contributing to the conversation.

“We just did whatever we could to survive. I would often try and figure out ways to get home and when Ruby wasn’t attempting to communicate with me I guess she was off chasing mice.” Five gave me a goofy smile and I glared at him.

“That’s not even remotely funny.” I said.

“It was a little funny.” He mumbled.

“You try being a cat for that many years and then you can make jokes.” I crossed my arms over my chest, about to say something else when Vanya stopped me.  

“Wait, what?” She stared at me in complete and utter disbelief. “Cat? You mean for 45 years you were there, you couldn’t change back?” The others looked at me.

I rolled my eyes at the sudden attention. “I’m gonna go change. Gotta be something that fits my 13 year old body.” I said, gesturing to the loose suit on my body.

I began to walk out of the room before Five called out to me. “Yea, me too. Not like this fits me either.”

“What- so that’s it? You’re not gonna tell us anything else?” Allison said and I didn’t even stop walking as I gave my response.

“Nothing else to tell.” I shrugged, and walked out of site.

* * *

Wonderful. That’s the only thing that fits, I thought to myself as I stared at myself in the mirror, As kids, the only clothes we really owned were our academy uniforms and pajamas so there wasn’t much to choose from in terms of outfits.

So I went for the full, regular uniform with the black blazer and my grey skirt. I guess looking like a schoolgirl was better than wearing the ruined clothes that were far too big for me that I had on before.

Sighing, I pulled a comb through my hair, straightening my uniform out right before I heard a knock at the door.

“Come in.” I called out, not even looking at the door. A moment passed and no one came in. I huffed and walked to the door, pulling it open to find an empty hallway.

Confused, I closed the door. Someone cleared their throat behind me and I jumped, turning to find Five sitting on my bed, dressed in his own academy uniform as well.

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that.” I breathed. “You scared me half to death.”

Five didn’t respond to this as he looked me up and down. “You look good.” He noted. I made a face at him and he smiled. He smoothed his hair out with his hands as we both went silent. “So go on then.” He said and I glanced at him in confusion.

“‘Go on’ what?” I said and Five frowned.

“You’ve been unable to talk to me for so long, you’re obviously ���dying to say some things.”

I shrugged, walking over to sit on my desk. “Nothing in particular comes to mind.”

“Oh.” He raised his eyebrows. “I guess I just assumed you’d be mad at me or something-” I didn’t let him finish as I threw the plastic pencil cup off my desk at his head.

“Ow!” He cried, pushing a hand to his forehead after it bounced off and landed on the floor.

“Of course I’m mad with you, idiot!” I yelled at him, grabbing one of the pillows off my bed and throwing it at him again. “But don’t you think that would have worn off by now? We were stuck in the future for that many years because you decided to be a rebellious teenager and not listen to anything that dad ever told you about time travel!”

I went to throw another pillow at him but he teleported out of site. I didn’t even have to look behind me to know where he was.

I gave a heavy sigh and I sat on the bed, not even bothering to look up at him. “Yes, Five. I was mad at you. And some part of me will always hold a grudge against you for jumping so far into the future.” I met his gaze and he gave me those stupid sympathetic eyes that you could just never stay mad at for long. “But if I never tried to stop you, I would have spent the last 17 years here thinking you were dead.”

A silence filled the room again. “I’m sorry.” Five finally said but the words no longer mattered to me. I let it go a long time ago.

“Anyway.” I said into the silence. “I’m starving.”

“Wanna head down to the kitchen? Probably something down there.” He suggested, before he suddenly gave me a cheeky smile.

“What now?” I asked.

“Race ya.” He said, raising his eyebrows at me and I scoffed.

“We both know you always cheated at this game.”

He shrugged, striding over to the door. “It was always your choice to believe a cat could beat someone who could literally jump through space and time.”

Well, now I wanted to throw another pencil cup at his head. My eyes flicked to the open window and I could tell Five knew exactly what I was I was thinking. The kitchen was three floors beflow us. If I could jump out through the window and onto the second floor railing, I could easily- Five suddenly disappeared and I jumped off my bed.

I leaped for the window and as I did, I changed from human, to a fluffy dark gray cat, landing on the edge of the window before speeding down the railing and jumping onto Allison’s balcony.

I could see the kitchen window from where I was speeding along the drain pipes. I jumped onto the dumpster on the ground, directly across from the kitchen window. I couldn’t tell if it was closed or not but I leapt forward anyway, ready to change back as soon as I landed inside.

My face slammed into the glass, right as I saw Five, standing at the window, a stupid grin on his face as I fell backwards.

I climbed back up to the window, perching myself on the windowsill and waiting him to open it. He ignored me, walking away and leaving me to stare into the kitchen. I saw Diego and Allison sitting at the table, and I pawed at the window until they looked over and Diego rolled his eyes as he got up and pulled the window open, allowing me to jump through.

As soon as I landed on the ground, I was standing on two legs instead of four and I was smoothing my hair out on my head. “Jerk.” I said, glaring at Five.

“You know, for people who are 58, you’re still as childish as when you were kids.” Diego said and it sounded like an insult but I could see the laughter in his eyes. I gave him a smile but I don’t know if he thought it was sincere.

I was about to begin raiding the cupboard when Luther stuck his head into the room. “Hey guys, it’s almost sundown.” He informed us, before leaving again.

Diego and Allison went stuff and Five and I looked at each other. “Does he always come in and tell you what time of day it is?” Five questioned. Diego turned his head towards us but didn’t meet our eyes.

“Luther wanted to have a memorial service in the yard at sundown.” He explained.

“I guess food can wait then.” I said, as Diego and Allison got up to leave. Five and I stood there together again, silence surrounding us.

“A funeral for Dad. Joy.” He said bluntly, before following the others and I did the same.

Outside, it was bucketing down with rain. I stood in the doorway a few minutes later, looking at the others in the wet courtyard, black umbrellas over their heads. I smiled a little when I saw Pogo and Mum. I saw Pogo before briefly but I haven’t seen Mum in four and a half decades. It’s been a long time.

I hugged myself as I walked out into the rain without an umbrella before I suddenly saw Five appear beside me, holding an umbrella over the both of us. I gave him a grateful look before we joined the others.

Luther stood in the centre of the yard, obviously not bothering with an umbrella, holding Dad’s ashes in a stone urn. Allison and Vanya stood off to the side and I glanced over to Diego who also opted to just let the rain fall on him. I didn’t seem like he really cared. I nearly laughed when I saw Klaus walk out and join us with a clear plastic child umbrella and cigarette in his hand. I guess some things just never change.

We all just stayed silent, not really sure where to start. I huddled close to Five, the cold wind not making situation any more bearable. We only looked up when Mum spoke “Did something happen?” She asked, a blank look on her face.

“Dad died. Remember?” Allison said, looking at her skeptically.

“Oh. Yes, of course.” She replied sadly.

Allison turned to Diego with concern. “Is Mum okay?”

“She’s fine, yea. She just needs to rest. Recharge.” Diego answered quickly.

I gave Five a funny look and I could tell he understood. Something was obviously wrong.

Pogo interrupted our thoughts a moment later, looking at Luther. “Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.” He said kindly.

Luther was silent as he stepped forward, clutching the urn and took the lid off. He looked at each of us, as if expecting us to stop him or do something before he turned it over and poured it out into the middle of the yard.

The only thing we could hear was the rain bouncing off the umbrellas as we stared at the pile of ashes heaped on the ground.

“Does anyone wish to speak?” Pogo asked, moving towards the ashes with his cane. When none of us responded, he did so himself. “In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master… and my friend and I shall miss him very much. He leaves behind a complicated legacy-” Pogo was interrupted when Diego jumped in.

“He was a monster.” Diego stared at the heap of ashes, as if hoping it would go up in flames. Klaus let out a chuckle as Diego kept going. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego.” Allison and I said warningly. There was no need to go that far.

“My name is ‘Number Two’. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mum do it. Five is still called by his number because he was the last one to get a name, but Mum never could give him one. That wouldn’t be the case if he had actually been a dad.”

“Would anyone like something to eat?” Mum cut in and asked cheerfully. There was clearly something wrong with her.

“No, it’s okay, Mum.” Vanya said.

Diego was louder when he spoke this time, angrier than he was before. “Look, you wanna pay your respects?” He stepped out into the middle of us. “Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kinda man he was.” He looked at Pogo.

“You should stop talking now.” Luther interrupted him. Diego turned to glare at Luther.

“You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One.” He said sarcastically.

“Guys, stop.” I spoke up but they ignored me.

“I am warning you.” Luther said, clenching his fists.

“After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away.” Diego stepped even closer to Luther and I could tell this was going to end badly.

“Diego, stop talking.” Luther warned.

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” Diego pushed his finger into Luther’s chest and this is the thing that very clearly fully set him off.

Luther pushed Diego’s hand away and immediately threw his arm out to punch him but Diego ducked under him and punched Luther in the stomach. Within moments, the two boys were in a heated fight.

Vanya pulled Mum back while Klaus put his arm out of in front of Five and I. We pushed his hand away in annoyance, but after Luther pushed Diego so hard he nearly fell into us, Five hooked his arm through mine and pulled me back, too.

“Boys!” Stop this at once!” Pogo yelled, sounding just like when were kids and the boys were fighting, all the same.

Diego and Luther completely ignored him as they fought in the rain, shoving each other and throwing punches. “Stop it!” Vanya screamed.

Luther grabbed Diego and threw him halfway across the courtyard, rolling across the leaves and the dirt.

“Cut it out!” I exclaimed, going to step forward but Five still had his arm looped through mine and wouldn’t let go. ‘Leave them’ he mouthed to me.

Pogo huffed and shook his head, turning to walk inside. The boys simply wouldn’t stop.

“We don’t have time for this.” Five said, as he turned on his heel and was about to walk back into the house when I stopped him. Diego was directly in front of Ben’s statue, obviously ready to crouch as soon as Luther swung his arm.

“Luther, don’t!” I yelled, but it was too late to stop him as he threw another punch at Diego and he ducked, Luther’s fist colliding with the metal statue.

The Bronze statue fell backwards, breaking in half as it did so. We all turned to stare at the broken figure of our brother, now in pieces on the ground thanks to the boys.

“And there goes Ben’s statue.” Allison said.

It looked like the boys were finally finished until Diego pulled one of his knives out. “Diego, no!” Vanya screamed at him, but he threw it at Luther, just cutting his arm as he jumped back.

Luther gasped and gripped his arm, storming past Diego and the rest of, inside the house.

Vanya walked up to Diego as Luther disappeared. “You never know when to stop, do you?” She asked.

Diego didn’t look at her as he leaned close to her. “Got enough material for your sequel yet?”

“He was my father, too.” She said, before going inside as well.

Just before I was about to follow the rest of the family out of the rain, I walked out from under our umbrella and up to Diego. “I may have been gone for seventeen years, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember anything. Just because we didn’t necessarily like Dad, doesn’t say we get the rights to talk about him like that after he’s gone. Is it really fair to talk shit about someone when they aren’t here to defend themselves? Even if he really was a crappy person.”

Diego didn’t respond as he pushed past me, attempting to escort Mum undercover. I turned and walk with Five into the house, trying to forget about family drama for even just a moment.

* * *

I walked back into the kitchen again later with Allison. We had been looking for Vanya but couldn’t find her anywhere after the funeral. Instead, however, we found Klaus and Five.

Five didn’t look up at us as we entered, too busy flicking through cupboards and cabinets to really notice, or care probably.

Klaus sat at the head of the table, his legs up and his arms wrapped around around an electric guitar.

“Where’s Vanya?” Allison asked. Klaus looked up at her.

“Hmm? Oh, she left.”

“Five, what are you doing?” I walked over to him.

“That’s unfortunate.” He mumbled.

“What is?”

“An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” Five slammed a kettle on the bench and I jumped.

“Dad hated caffeine.” Allison said.

“Well, he hated children, too and he had plenty of us.” Klaus laughed, hugging the guitar to his chest. I snickered a little at that.

“I’m taking the car.” Five said, grabbing the car keys out of a bowl on the bench.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To get a decent cup of coffee.”

Allison stopped him. “Wait, do you even know how to drive?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Five scoffed. “I know how to do everything.”

There was no way I was letting him go alone. Right before he disappeared, I grabbed a hold of his blazer and I teleported with him outside in front of Dad’s old car.

Five pushed my arm away when he realised I was beside him. “Do you not remember the last time you decided to do that?” He growled at me.

“Do you remember the last time you decided to run away from the family because you got pissed off?” I shot back. Five huffed and opened the door of the car, hopping inside and I did the same in the passenger side. 

He started the car and gave me one last look before pushing his foot on the pedal and we were off. It was only when he was speeding down the road did I finally ask him something. 

“Why do you suddenly need coffee so bad?” 

“You’re tryinging to tell me that after that many years eating whatever food scraps we could get our hands on, you don’t want a donut from Griddy’s?” He asked, glancing at me as he drove down the street. 

After a few minutes, the car rolled up in front of the diner. “Okay, wait here. I’ll see if they’ve got any donuts left for you.” He said and I scoffed at him. I was about to argue but he got out and slammed the door before I even had the chance to. “Jerk.” I mumbled, for the second time that day. 

As I watched Five enter the diner, the bell ringing as he pushed the door open, I recalled the memories I had of this place. We used to come here when we snuck out as kids when we were bored. Ate donuts until one or all of us threw up and then sneak back into bed like nothing ever happened. 

We never physically got caught, but some part of me always told me Dad always knew. Maybe he was just letting us have some fun for a change, which was something we never got to have as kids anyway. 

I looked through the window to find Five talking to an older man. A truck driver, I believed, since there were only two other cars in the carkpark out front and I had a feeling the pick up truck was his. 

I didn’t feel like staying in the car any longer, waiting for Five to drink his coffee, so reaching over to pull the keys out, I got out of the car, letting the door fall closed behind me. As I approached the door, it opened and the truck driver walked out, holding the door for a split second so I could walk through. I gave him a kind smile before walking up and joining Five at the bench. 

Looking straight ahead, Five said, “’Wait in the car’?” He repeated and I rolled my eyes. 

“I got bored. What’d you say to the truckie?” I leaned my chin on my hand, resting my elbow on the bench. 

“I got an address from him.” Five said, sliding a piece of paper across the bench to me. A clinic of some sort. 

“Why is this important?” I cocked my head at time. He looked distracted, looking at the curved mirror above him to see out into the parking lot. “Five?” 

“I’ll tell you later. We’ve got company.” 

* * *

By the way, Chapter titles are gonna be names of songs from that episode. Because I’m unoriginal :)

[sishtastories]

do i matter?

summary: every couple has a fight right? it’s normal, isn’t it? grayson knew that he fucked up, he just didn’t know how he screwed up. 

[word count: 1923] 

[warnings: a couple of swear words] 

requested:  yeah | nah 

“So I heard you and Grayson had a fight,” Ethan commented as he saw her eating a cup of ice cream.

She squinted her eyes against the Los Angeles sun and stuck her little spoon in the mound of ice cream. “You could say that.”

“Hey sister,” James greeted cheerily as he walked into the twins home and then stopped abruptly. “What the fuck happened in here?”

Emma who was behind James walked into his back, “Dude.” She walked around him and her eyes bugged out of her head, “What the fuck?”

Grayson who was sitting on the couch, his hair in disarray, who was obviously tired ran a hand down his face. “Uh, a raccoon got in?”

“And that explains the tornado that went around your living room?” James snarked as he picked up the cushion on the ground. “Did you and E have a fight?”

Grayson shook his head, “No.”

Emma sipped on her drink and began picking up the other items on the floor as well. “Did you and (Y/N) have a fight then?”

This time he leaned back on the couch and groaned, “I don’t know what the fuck happened.”

James and Emma shared a look and sat down on either side of Grayson. “Go back to the start maybe we can try and figure out what happened.”

Grayson let himself in, Ethan was out for the night spending his time with Bryant playing a Fortnite challenge. He tightened his hand on the bag of groceries in his hand and opened the door. “Honey, I’m home.”

“Kitchen!” She called out, Grayson walked over to the kitchen. “Hi babe,” she greeted, she leaned her cheek out and he pressed a quick kiss on it. “How was your day?”

“Good, how about you?” He listened to her day while placing away the groceries and passing her the ones that she needed.

“Babe,” she stopped her story when he passed her a bag of frozen corn.

“Ah shit,” he groaned. “You wanted corn on the cob.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled.

He smiled sheepishly at her and began talking about his day. “Oh, and we had this group lunch today for business, and Taylor suggested this bubble tea drink and it was so fucking great.”

Before he even knew it the bag of corn she had in her hand was everywhere in the kitchen. “Are you fucking kidding me, Gray?”

In a state of confusion, the only thing that Gray could say was, “What is going on? What did I do?”

“Are you serious right now?” She narrowed her eyes at him and stormed off to the living room. “We’ve had this conversation a million times!”

“What?” Grayson followed her and tried as best as he could to try and think of what he did.

“You don’t even know what you did, do you?” She asked but he could tell that it was a rhetorical question. Her hands flailed around and she glared at him, “No, you tell me what you did this time.” She picked up one of the cushions on the couch and threw it at him.

He stood there in shock and opened his mouth a couple of times, “Was it?”

“Was it?” She mocked.

“Uh.”

“Uh,” (Y/N) repeated mockingly. “No, Gray, it wasn’t. And it’s fucking pissing me off that this has completely gone over your head like fucking everything!”

“Was it about the corn?” Emma asked as she sipped on her drink listening intently to Grayson’s story.

Grayson shook his head, “I don’t know.”

He had never seen her this angry, well scratch that, he’s seen her angry before but never directed at him.

“You know what? I need some air,” she grunted and began walking out of the door.

“(Y/N).”

She turned around quickly at him and pointed a finger, “No, Grayson, don’t follow me.”

“In all of your relationship, I have never seen the two of you fight,” Ethan commented as he listened to (Y/N)’s story.

She aggressively spooned the ice cream in her mouth, “Yeah, well there’s a first time for everything,” she bitterly spoke.

“Where did you go?”

(Y/N) made a face and placed another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, “Turns out not very far. I was going to go for a drive and I realised that I left my keys in the fucking house.”

She groaned as she reached her car, realising that the keys were in the house. She turned back around and tried to open the door, she jiggled it a couple of times and realised that it was locked. “Are you serious?” She knocked a couple of times and when she realised that Grayson wasn’t going to come and open it for her, she complained under her breath and went around the back.

She jimmied the door a little bit, knowing the secret places of the door that would make it unlock. When she finally did it she wasn’t prepared for the weird greeting she was met.

“Jesus Christ, Grayson, stop it! It’s me, you idiot!” (Y/N) screamed, and repeated a couple of times.

“Oh God,” realisation dawned on him and he dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor. “Oh fuck, sorry, I thought you were a raccoon.” When he saw the look on her face, he knew that he said the wrong thing.

“Yes, Grayson Dolan because people look like fucking raccoons,” she spat. She picked up the extinguisher and began spraying him, the spray was so strong that he fell back on the couch, knocking over the lamp on the floor.

When James heard Grayson tell that part of the story he couldn’t help but stop laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said when he noticed Grayson’s glare. “It’s just, you gotta admit, that’s pretty funny.”

“I still don’t understand what happened between the two of you,” Emma commented, placing her drink on the table. “I do know that she doesn’t go crazy for no stupid reason.”

“So that’s why you’re mad at him?” Ethan asked as they both finished their ice cream.

“Yes! And it sounds so stupid but I’ve asked Gray to try a bubble tea every single fucking time we go out and he’s never tried it because he said it looked weird!” She explained exasperated. “And this Taylor who he doesn’t even like says that he should try it and he does!”

Ethan didn’t respond but just watched his brothers girl have a meltdown in the middle of the shop.

“And he does this with everything, E!” She pushed the cup away from her. “It’s not just the drink, it’s movies, places and clothes! It seems like he values everyone’s opinions over mine because he actually listens to them.”

“Have you spoken to him about it?”

“We tried to this morning but to be honest, I don’t think that he actually understood what he’s done wrong,” she ran a hand through her hair and sighed heavily. “It’s so tiring at this point.”

some time later

“Hey,” they greeted each other with the awkwardness of a first date. They looked at each other not really knowing what to say.

“This is stupid,” she finally spoke, laughing. That conversation with E this morning did really help.

“I’m sorry,” Grayson apologised.

This whole fucking fight was so tiring for them.

“Me too, I overreacted,” (Y/N) confessed sheepishly. “I missed you last night.”

Grayson nodded eagerly, in all their time they’ve never spent a night away together if they were in the same area. Last night was probably the worst sleep he’s ever had. “I missed you too.”

“Sometimes I just feel like that I have to express myself by shouting to let you know just how upset I am.” She looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “But everything is okay now, right? You get why I was upset?”

Grayson nodded once again, “I do,”  but inside he knew that he really didn’t. Even after with James’ and Emma’s ‘help’ this morning, he still didn’t know what had happened but all he knew was that he was happy they were okay again.

“Look, let’s just put this past us, okay?” She arched a brow and gave him a kiss, “You know what you did, so now at least you can not do it again.”

He kissed her again, this time relishing in their moment. “I love you so much.”

“Maybe we can go to this place later that does these great bubble tea, ever since yesterday I can’t seem to stop drinking them,” Grayson spoke as he wrapped his arms around her, not knowing the couple of seconds after that they would be right back to where they were this morning.

She instantly removed herself from his hold and looked at him, “Are you serious right now? Have you learnt nothing from last night, Grayson?”

He looked confusedly at her, “It was about the bubble tea?” What the actual fuck?  

“I have been trying to turn you to bubble tea ever since I’ve met you, Gray, and then some Instagram girl suggests it and you can’t stop craving it?” Each word she said she could feel her anger grow more and more. She honestly thought that everything was fine and everything was sorted, and he understood what was going on. Apparently not.

She placed her drink down rather aggressively, “it makes me feel like I don’t matter to you!”

Grayson watched as his girl storm away from the party and walk outside the balcony. The other three friends watched from the couch at the situation that just happened.

It took about five minutes until Grayson got his shit together and ran towards the balcony. She thought that she didn’t matter to him? That her opinions didn’t matter? She was literally the only person apart from Ethan that he needed validation from.

(Y/N) heard the door open and she let out a sigh, “I don’t really want to talk about this right now, Gray.”

“I can’t believe you don’t think that your opinion doesn’t matter to me, babe,” Grayson started, closing the door and walking closer to her.

“Do you remember that time that I was going to dye my hair that awful colour?” Grayson asked, knowing that she knew exactly what he was talking about. “And then you literally threw the box away because I was so sure that I would look good.”

“You would have looked like a giant booger,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Apart from that, do you remember when I said that I was going to take those classes to better my reading?” He asked and watched as she nodded. “And those times where I’ve had a fight with E and I come to you, asking you for help?”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around so she could look at him, “I can’t believe that you would ever think that your opinion doesn’t matter to me, when in fact it’s one of the most important,” Grayson explained. “I literally look up to you because you make me so much better. You’ve changed me for the better. I might miss a drink or a movie here and there but I have you all over me. It might not be on the materialistic side of things but the things that really matter, I have you all over me.”

She gave him a smile, “Mm, you’re about to.” She kissed him, pulling him into her arms. “Love you so much Gray.”

[toxykmystic]

Day 3 - @takaritsuweek

Date

Ritsu was a complete and utter mess as he tossed his wardrobe around the room. Gripping his hair in both hands he grit his teeth and scanned the scattered clothing. Why was he freaking out about this so much!? He was the one that had asked, oh gods, he’d asked Takano-san out on a date...what the hell had he been thinking?! He never should have done that and on top of that he’d actually kissed Takano-san of his own free will! He was losing his mind obviously, it was the only reasonable explanation.

Sliding down to sit on his bedroom floor he hid his face in his hands and let out a shaky sigh. It wasn’t as if he was trying to give Takano-san false hope. He knew he loved the guy it was just, just…. He was scared, so scared of being hurt again that it made his chest ache and tears burn behind his wide green eyes. But, if things continued as they were he had a feeling that he would lose Takano forever. It was this thought that drove him to his feet and got him moving. They’d been through hell over the past couple of weeks and sure, they had a lot of other things to work through, but surely spending time together would be good for both of them.

Truthfully he missed the man, the banter that terrified most of the editors outside of their small Emerald abode. He was certain that most of the fourth floor had a betting pool on who would kill the other first with all the shouting matches that happened between the pair. Well, except maybe for the Sapphire editors who most likely had a different kind of betting pool going. Enough of these useless thoughts, he had to go and pick up his date and try not to completely mess up the entire escapade.

He’d settled for a deep burgundy turtleneck sweater and a pair of pale gray slacks, slipping on his black loafers and his tan coat, laying his cream colored scarf over his shoulders just in case it started to get cold. He took several deep, calming breaths and then opened his door, squaring his shoulders he turned to look at the door to 1201. This was so weird, it used to be that Takano would be the one to drag him out to gods only knew where, now it was his turn to return the favor. That made the brunette smile a bit to himself as he stepped up to the door and took a few more deep breaths to calm himself. Lifting his finger, he hesitated for a moment, wondering if Takano ever got this nervous but then remembering that one time that Takano had lifted his hands to feel the wild pulse of his heart in his neck. Fighting down the blush as he pressed the doorbell and took a step back and waited with his heart trying to escape his chest.

When the door swung open he felt as if the air had been stolen from his lungs. Takano looked so handsome in his dark purple button down, dark slacks and trench coat with a pair of black dress shoes. Ritsu ducked his head and blushed, damn it all it was almost as if he was that stupidly shy underclassman of years gone by. “Good Evening Takano-san, um will you be comfortable walking in those shoes?” it wasn’t too far by train but still, he’d thought about taking a walk maybe afterwards just to enjoy the Autumn evening in the park that was close to where he was wanting to take Takano-san.

Masamune looked down at his feet, he usually wore these to work, then again that was in an office building. “Hold on, let me switch to my boots.” stepping back into the genkan he settled himself down to switch footwear.

“Ah! We’re not going on a hike or anything, I just thought it might be nice to take a walk afterwards, if...that’s okay with you?” Ritsu felt so silly, it wasn’t as if he was used to this sort of thing! Honestly it wasn’t as if he had gone on tons of dates in the past. He just thought it would be romantic to walk under the night sky with Takano-san, “Gah, I’ve been in shoujo too long.” he felt his cheeks heating up from his thoughts.

Masamune chuckled softly at Ritsu’s flustering, he really was too adorable for his health. But he promised himself he’d take this slow and easy. He was just so shocked and happy, hopeful honestly, that Ritsu had asked. And that kiss, he’d been stunned and staring off into space for a good ten minutes afterwards after that shock. He slipped on an older pair of dress shoes, these well broken in and easy on the feet, “You’re making it sound as if it’s a bad thing, honestly I’m so happy that you asked me out Ritsu. It was a surprise, but it’s made me incredibly happy.” He pulled himself to his feet with a grunt and gave Ritsu’s hair a ruffle which earned him a squawk of protest.

“Really Takano-san!?” patting down his tousled hair he stepped to the side of the other man, blushing furiously as they made their way to the elevator. “If you didn’t go and do something so sappy and sweet I wouldn’t have felt obligated to repay you.” He gave a little sniff and tried for a more hauty, little pampered prince expression.

“So, I take it you liked the pen?” Masamune prompted, trying to hold in chuckles at the disgruntled look the younger man shot him at the question.

“Why do you think I kissed you, idiot…” Ritsu mumbled lowly, not realising he’d spoken out loud. “Of course I liked it.” he sniped. But really, it was the note attached that had really moved his fragile heart. Takano stood close beside him on the elevator down to the ground level where they stepped off in tandem looking far too pleased with himself. He swore, sometimes he could just smack that smug look on his boss’ handsome face. Instead he settled on sighing and shaking his head. “Anyway, you were always wanting to know what I did in the time we were apart so I thought I’d show you one.” stepping out into the night air and noting the surprised expression on Takano’s face.

“What, are we going to the library?” he smiled as Ritsu sputtered cutely beside him. Really he shouldn’t tease him so much, but the man made it so easy.

“Of course not!” Ritsu huffed and then a slow blush crept up to his ears, “well… not exactly.” maybe this was the dumbest idea in the world. Gah! Why couldn’t he be like a normal person and come up with nice things to do that didn’t involve books. Then again, his life seemed to revolve around the things. Trying to ignore the grinning man beside him, well at least he was having fun, too bad it was at his expense.

“Anyway, I started to work at my father’s company right after college. I know you know this, but we’ve never really talked about what it was like. Sure, you know why I eventually left but I never told you about the good and bad things, except for the coattails riding nonsense.” his face screwing up into a look of disgust, sliding his train pass over the scanner as he led Takano to the train they’d need to take. “I was given novice authors to start out with, working with them to make their books to be the best they could be.” 

He gave a soft smile as he remembered, “it wasn’t as if I started work and suddenly had Sumi-sensei given to me on a silver platter like the others liked to make it seem. I worked hard to make it up the ladder of literature editing and I was told, true… by my Father and by my authors, that I had a talent for it. That’s one of the reasons I find myself questioning my true ability, because of all the trouble I had with shoujo manga, I thought it would be nothing in comparison to literature. I was right, but not in the way I thought, you need to have a totally different skill set than with literature and there’s so much I didn’t know at first that I still don’t know. But, if I can work with Usami Akihiko,” his face darkening at the mention of the eccentric author, “I can do anything, so I’m not giving up on mastering this genre.” 

They’d gotten off the train and were walking down the street close enough to brush against each others shoulders, “he really is a brilliant man, I remember how excited I was to work with one of my all time favorite authors.” one that he’d discovered with Takano-san when he’d been his Saga-senpai, “but I was not prepared for the hot mess that man was.” rubbing a hand over his face at the memory, the author was the one part of working in literature that he didn’t miss too terribly. “While it was amazing working with someone of such renown and skill, he was the single most stubborn, haughty, arrogant, spoilt man-child I have ever known!” he looked up at Takano-san to see him surprised.

He had just let Ritsu talk, even if he was talking about work, he was talking about previous work and a time where he couldn’t commiserate with him over any of it. He was surprised to find out that Usami had such a negative impact on the man he loves, he’d thought for sure that Ritsu would be singing his praises since he was still a huge fan of the author and he’d also written several books that Ritsu had been in charge of that had been best sellers and award winners. “Even worse than me?” he arched a dark brow down at the man, his heart faltered in his chest when he felt Ritsu’s fingers twine with his after he’d dropped his hand from his face.

“Well, in different ways yes and no, but mostly yes. He was and is the most difficult person that I’ve ever had to work with. I’m really starting to wonder if my family was the only well off one to instill manners in their offspring, because that man could not give a single damn about anyone but himself. As for his reputation, he didn’t even care about that! Luckily he’s a hermit and hates people, or else he would have been a PR nightmare. Ah, even so, he’s still my favorite author and it was amazing to work with him.” Ritsu smiled up at Takano-san, “even if I had to chase him down to get his manuscript without fail every single deadline, that’s why flying to Mutou-sensei to get her’s for the deadline didn’t seem so impossible in my head I guess.” shrugging his shoulders as he stopped in front of an old looking shop with even older looking books on display in the cases behind the window. “I had to chase that man to New York, London, Paris… he even went to Cairo once, can you believe that?! But, sometimes he stayed a little closer to home and well,” he opened the door to the shop and motioned for Takano to enter, “I found him here once and… thought about how much you’d like this place too.”

He’d never been back for that reason alone, but now it just seemed perfect as he followed Takano into the used book shop. The smell of old paper, coffee and tea permeated the air, “I found him over there, hidden behind an impressive stack of classics.” he jerked a thumb towards a chair that faced another across a low table. “But yeah, I thought you would really enjoy a place like this…” his voice drifting off, getting more and more nervous as he hoped beyond hope that he was right and Takano would find this place as enchanting as he did.

It was indescribable, what Masamune was feeling right now as his tawny eyes scanned over the rows upon rows of old tomes lovingly housed on shelves. The shop was small, cozy and quaint with a bit of what he thought may be old English charm. But since he’d never been to England and knew next to nothing of interior design, he could only guess. He was a bit awed to be standing in a place where his favorite author had been, yes he was a bit of a fanboy himself, even if he wouldn’t admit it he knew that Ritsu was aware. “How are we supposed to get home?” he turned to look down at the younger, a wry smile forming on his lips, “I want to clear out the place and take it with me.” he spoke in the hushed tone reserved for such places.

Ritsu flushed prettily and darted his emerald eyes away from Takano as his heart had sped up dangerously at that smile. “Well, I thought we’d only pick one and maybe…” he looked up shyly at the elder, “come back here together when we have the time.” biting his lip and looking away, feeling the heat of his blush reaching for his toes.

Masamune was stunned yet again, did Ritsu basically ask him on another date in the future? Yeah, sure it wasn’t the typical place you’d think of taking someone for a romantic date, but for two total book nerds like themselves, it was perfect. “I...would love that Ritsu.” He reached out gently to brush the back of his fingers against the younger man’s fine jaw, his heart giving a throb at the smile that shone as Ritsu looked up at him, so happy it took his breath away.

The two men moved through the shop, each looking for that perfect book while casting glances at each other through the shelves. The nostalgia was so sweet it left a warm glow in the hearts of both slowly healing men. When they were done they paid for their books and left the shop as night finally fell. Ritsu once again took Takano’s hand when he was sure that no one was around and led him on a slow walk through the park. Autumn leaves crunching under their feet and the moon high and glowing with a soft light down upon them as their hearts beat in sync on their path to the way that it should have always been. Hand in hand, side by side, together for all time.

[woossexyponytail]

Threat of death Chapter 6 The Pink Topaz.

Summery: After a job gone wrong, Jeon Jungkook finds a target on his back, realising he has no idea who wants him dead, they bring in the help of an old friend who coincidentally is an assassin for higher.

Threat of death mlist

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"Your telling me, that they drove into an alleyway, and got stuck?" Taehyung asked looking between Jimin, Jungkook and you, a huge smile on his face, while you three nodded.

The group was sitting in the groups lounge, drinks on the table as Jimin told the guys about the mission, you sat on the black sofa, Jungkook sitting next to you, Jimin was on his own seat to your left, while the other guys circled around.

Jin stood up from his place making his way over to Namjoon, who was sitting by his computers, typing away.

"Are you going to join us, darling." Jin asked, passing him a beer, Namjoon grabbed the bottle rolling his eyes at Jin, "very funny, Boss Man said that this is only half of the merchandise, so I'm taking a look at where in the world the other half is."

"What do you mean?" Jimin asked getting up and walking over to Namjoon, he held the bag up, "Take a look"

Jimin grabbed the bag emptying it on the table, what fell out was the four stones you were sent to get. "I don't get it? This is what we were sent for?" You asked.

Namjoon nodded, turning in his chair to look at you, "It's part of a set, I'm trying to find what jewel it's from." You looked back down at the stones.

"Pink Topaz?, I think I've seen this piece before." Taehyung said picking one up to examine it, "well, then help me look" Namjoon said rolling his eyes, Taehyung sighed, standing up to grab the tablet from Namjoon.

"So in other words, the jobs not done?" Hoseok asked, getting excited he started bouncing on the cushion, nudging Yoongi as well. Yoongi quickly pushed Hoseok off him, as Hoseok fell to the floor laughing.

"Why? You wanna do the next job?" Yoongi asked, a knowing smirk on his face, Hoseok looked at him, his smile dropping. "But wasn't it you that said you'd like to stay in the van?"

Jimin quickly explained to you about what happened just before you got there, Hoseok still pouting as you laughed along with them. To say the night was filled with happiness was an understatement.

With that said the rest of the guys laughed at Hoseok as he sat cross legged on the floor pouting at them, "someone wanna fill me in?" You asked looking around confused.

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It wasn't until midnight that you all stumbled to bed, a little drunk for some you included, while the others were definitely shitfaced, like Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi complaining about them being light weights.

Jungkook didn't meet your eyes, keeping them down on the ground, you could feel his hand become sweaty, from either the alcohol he consumed or maybe he was nervous, you didn't know.

Making your way slowly to your room, you stopped by the door, slowly opening it as you made your way in, you felt a hand rap around your arm, looking up ready to fight/punch whoever it was, your body relaxed seeing Jungkook standing at your door.

His lips were pressed together in a thin line, you could tell by the movements of his jaw, that he was bitting his cheek.

He then let go of your arm, his hand combing through his hair, pushing his hair back only for his bangs to fall back to the same place. He sighed, and finally looked up at you.

"Listen, I want to thank you, for today, I know it's your job to protect me, but I'm happy that Namjoon asked you to come." With that said, Jungkook turned quickly and left without another word.

He was your job, that was it, maybe just maybe a friendship would come out of it, like you and Namjoon, but you didn't want high Hope's, especially since someone was trying to kill him, and non of you had a clue who it was.

You stared at his door as he closed it, a small smile appeared at the thought of him. He was quite cute, and sexy and charming, but you really needed to stop thinking about him that way.

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The next morning you sat in the community Lounge, watching as Jimin and Jungkook trained in the ring, watching their movements as they throw punches at one another.

They both had their shirts off, bodys glistening with sweat, Jimin had black sweatpants on hanging low around his waist, his Calvin Klein underwear showing, his arms raised to protect his face.

Jungkook on the other hand, was much larger then Jimin, muscles bigger, his gray sweatpants also hanging dangerously low, revealing his Hugo Boss underwear, his arms also match Jimin as he protect his face, Jungkook had a large smirk showing on his face.

Hoseok was sitting next to you on the sofa watching the fight, a coffee in his hands as he laughed, teasing the two boys.

Yoongi was sitting at the table, gun piece skatered around the table, as he was putting them together.

Taehyung and Seokjin was at the bar, Jin making some more coffee for everyone. Taehyung laughing in the background also watching the fight. While Jin scolded Jungkook, since he might reopen his stitches.

Just as the fight was getting interesting, as in you, Hoseok and Taehyung started betting, Namjoon walked in, a tablet in hands. Everyone stopped what they where doing, looking up at him.

"We have a new target." Namjoon said passing the tablet around to everyone. The screen showed a picture of a building. "Seoul Museum of History?, What's in there?" Yoongi asked getting up from his chair and walking over to Namjoon.

"The other half of the merchandise, found out that the stones are from a necklace from the 18th century, displayed in this museum, seems like Elijah stole the four stones, but the necklace and two other stones are still here." He explained.

"So in other words, we're breaking in to a museum." Jungkook said smiling to himself. "No. Jimin, Yoongi and yn will, your staying here."

"What?!, why can't I come?" Jungkook asked, crossing his arms, glaring at Namjoon. "You have no idea how to sneak in to anything, Yn does, while Yoongi and Jimin are her back up, don't need anymore. Okay?"

Jungkook huffed, blowing his hair up as he did, he started walking towards the punching bag, taking the first hit, while the others looked at each other, "touchè" Jimin said, Taehyung giggled at that.

"So what do you want us to do?" Yoongi asked sitting beside Hoseok, Jimin also gathered to the table sitting next to you, you moved over for him to have enough space. Looking at you, Jimin pouted "why'd you move away?"

You glared at him, "um maybe because your, I dunno, all sweaty!" You told him rolling your eyes, Jimin just smirked at you, "Oh please, I know you like what you see." He told you moving closer, the other guys laughed, while you grimace at him.

The sound of the punching bag got harder, within second the punching bag was flying across the room, from where Jungkook punch to hard. The laugher stopped, looking up at Jungkook as he grumbled to himself as he picked up the bag, "Can you guys stop messing around and do your fucking job. You know the one MY father in paying all you for."

The shock on everyone's face was an understatement, pure rage engulfed you at the thought of him being so disrespectful. Jimin stood up abruptly, obviously pissed at what he said, though Namjoon stood in front of him, stopping whatever Jimin was going to say or do.

"I got him" Taehyung said getting up from his seat, Hoseok following behind him, as they tried to talk to Jungkook about his outburst. The rest of you all looked back at Namjoon.

"Well, anyway, You three will go through the sewer-" Namjoon got interrupted by Yoongi "Oh, I'm loving it so far." Yoongi sighed, slouching deep into the sofa.

"Yeah well, once you three get there I'll direct you to the nearest room to the necklace will be, you guys are leaving in an hour, by the time you get there it will be late, which gives you enough cover."

Jungkook yelled, pointing at Jimin as he walked closer to him, getting all up in his face, "Oh, I see, you wanna go another round" Jimin said puffing up his chest.

"Right, then I'll just take a shower, your welcomed to accompany me, if you want." Jimin said looking over at you, a smirk appeared, looking at you up and down. "No! She will not, go and take your fucking shower alone."

"Another round, We didn't finish our first round. But you know me, always knocking you on your tiny ass." Jungkook said, you stood up, getting inbetween the two, "Is this really necessary, you, stop acting like a pissy child, who didn't get his way. And you, go take that shower, alone and be ready to leave, we've got a Museum to heist."

With that, you looked over at Yoongi, seeing a smirk placed on his face, "You coming?" You asked him, Yoongi's smirk turned into a smile, getting up, "Yep, let's take a look at the guards patrols." He said as the both of you walked out the room.

"Dude, what was that about?" Taehyung asked, Jungkook shrugged walking back to the punching bag, starting punching again. "We'll deal with him later."

"Well, that just happened, but she's right, Jimin, get ready now." Namjoon told Jimin, as he left. The boys turned to Jungkook, raising their eyebrows at him.

[ft-stories-lgbt]

For the wonderful @watcher-ofthe-sky 🌺

Also I am not going to take credit for this work. This is entirely from @grayserigala, so all the nice words, likes and reblogs is for her. I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I did.

*

Prompt: "You've always felt like home".

Natsu can’t help but smile as he watches Sting goofing around in front of, and with their friends. The pure joy and freedom in his face reflects through their hearts, and draws the smile onto the pinkette’s face, as well. Which is a good thing, since the last few days have been kind of hard on his lover. It is so alleviating to watch the thoughts that had Sting snapping left and right or too disheartened to move, now a world away from his precious boyfriend. Natsu wishes he could hold this moment of happiness in place for eternity.

A small chuckle escapes his throat as he watches his boyfriend taking Rogue by the arm and drag him into the foolery, to keep him close. From where he is standing, Natsu can't hear what's being said but if he trusts the exasperated look that is on Rogue’s face, he is positive that Sting is up to mischief again.

Shaking his head a little Natsu leans against the wall and brings his beer to his lips. The music around becomes something soft and the boy closes his eyes for a moment, to enjoy the warm feelings that build inside him.

He feels someone coming up to stand beside him, and Natsu jolts as a familiar voice sighs next to him, with a degree of fondness to the tone. His eyes slide open to gaze at the newcomer, and his gaze fall on Gray who is looking at him with an amused smile on his lips.

“It’s not like you to be all alone,” Gray comments, taking a sip from his own beer.

“I guess,” Natsu shrugs. “Just chilling.”

“That’s not like you either.” Gray hides a quiet snicker behind a sigh of content.

"What about you? How come you’re here and not saving your boyfriend?" Natsu follows up, cheekily.

Gray laughs at that, and his gaze falls to his boyfriend as it always does eventually, who is hiding his own fondness for the blonde behind a silent prayer for help. Sting’s enthusiasm is apparently wearing away that warmth, leaving draining tiredness.

"I'll save him later,” Gray comments with another swig and an indignant glare at Rogue. “For now, he can suffer for making me go to that stupid show to keep your lonely ass company.”

"Hey!” Natsu gasps, dramatically. “It wasn’t stupid and I know you enjoyed it!" Natsu argues.

“No I didn’t!” Gray argues back, their voices raising to a volume reflective of their lifelong rivalry. “How on Earth does anyone enjoy marionette shows, they’re creepy as hell!” Natsu snickers when Gray shivers at the memory, with a willingness to take it further and fight for nostalgia’s sake.

“This is why I wanted to go with Sting, he would’ve loved it and Rogue wouldn’t have to suffer now.” Natsu chuckles, sarcastically.

"Sting loves everything you do, so really he is not a reliable source here." Gray huffs.

Natsu is grinning at that, though he can’t tell if it’s the comment on Sting or the twinge of familiarity that comes with Gray’s frustrated tone. Gray looks over, with a flash of annoyance lighting up his usually dull, indecipherable eyes, one that dies down a little as Gray lets himself properly study his friend.

“You know this is all your doing, right?” Gray asks in an oddly quiet voice, and when Natsu looks over again, the raven is casually gazing at Sting.

“What are you talking about, Droopy Eyes?” Natsu retorts, trying to bring the playfulness back and reject the seriousness. Tonight isn’t about that, tonight is about the warmth of Sting’s smile and Natsu isn’t going to let anything bring that down.

Gray shoots him a flat look, that is directed at the nickname, and Natsu only just manages to keep from bursting into laughter with a sip of his drink. The raven sighs and and the irritation drains away, leaving Gray’s eyes more open than Natsu has ever seen, as he secretly rolls his eyes at the floor.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Gray starts off. “And before you decided to ruin the mood, I was going to tell you that Sting is happy because of you tonight.”

Natsu pauses at that, and with a couple blinks and seconds to register what Gray was saying, his eyes switch back over to Sting, who is still having fun teasing Rogue.

“You’re the idiot,” Natsu manages to choke out around his tightening chest.

“And you’re the idiot that he’s in love with,” Gray groans at Natsu’s difficult nature. “He’s smiling because of you tonight, because you gave him a home and didn’t give up on him.”

Natsu is left blabbing awkwardly, as he struggles to find the balance between the embarrassed butterflies that come from anything serious involving Gray, and the utter dedication that he feels towards Sting. His love for Sting wins. He has never once doubted Sting's love, in almost a decade of being together, he has always been confident that they shared a deep bond. And it’s not as if Sting has never said that to him, before, but hearing it from someone else, was firstly humiliating, but beneath the mortifying embarrassment, a weight grounds his heart and makes the decade-long dream seem real.

“...An-and Rogue’s told me that too, when he was trying to get us to be better ‘friends’.” Gray coughs, that same awkwardness rising up in him, too. “I don’t think anyone can deny that you two are made for each other, that you’re his home and he’s yours, but…” Gray trails off, a clear and obvious red painting his cheeks.

“...But what?” Natsu encourages, quietly, a note of worry in his voice.

“But Sting’s not the only one…” Gray continues quietly.

“I don’t understand…” Natsu breathes, searching Gray’s face. Gray slowly meets the pinkette’s gaze, as he swallows the embarrassment.

“I-” The words die in Gray’s throat, as he coughs out a laugh. “You do this for everyone, you worry and you care… f-for me, and Rogue, as well as Sting. Y-... he-... don’t take this the wrong way, I love Rogue to death, but isn’t it weird to think that we’ve known each other for almost twenty years, now?”

“I guess…?” Natsu replies slowly. “I still don’t understand.” Gray groans and mutters something about Natsu being difficult, but despite everything else, he slides a couple inches closer to Natsu, so their arms are almost touching.

“That’s nearly two decades, it’s basically a lifetime of knowing you.” Gray mumbles.

“Eww,” Natsu snickers, still not entirely sure what to make of the awkward atmosphere.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Gray glares. “But… it’s… Rogue, Erza, so many people have tried to make us better friends, but what… but what none of them seem to get is that you’re already my best friend. Twenty years... wow…” Gray shakes his head, hiding his eyes behind his hair. “You’ve seen me through everything, my worst, my best and my most stupid. Though, that last one is definitely your fault.”

“H-” Natsu cuts himself short, remembering Gray’s retort half a heartbeat late. Closing his mouth, he lets Gray continue and swallows his tease.

“There are very, very few people that I could say know me, or… know the real me.” Gray breathes deeply. “But goodness knows where I’d be if you weren’t one of them.” Gray turns his head and finally shows Natsu his face and the unshed tears in them. And those are enough to make Natsu worry, as his heart clenches and he tries to read Gray’s emotions. “Y-you’re Sting’s home, but… but you’ve always been home for me, too…”

Natsu feels his heart flip, dip and stutter to a halt all at once, as the words click and bring tears to his eyes in a chain reaction. Squeezing his mouth shut, Natsu fights against the tears, but it isn’t long before Gray is hidden behind a blurry film.

“W-woah, hey!” Gray’s panicky tone gasps. “Wh-what… I-... uhh… sh-should I call Sting? Why… I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

Natsu groans under his breath and hides his face in his hands, still trying to fight the drops of water running down his cheeks. Dammit, he didn’t plan on being an emotional wreck this evening, much less because of Gray.

“I… I-uh…” Gray stutters uselessly, and all Natsu can do is let out a choked laugh at his stupid best friend, and tug the raven into a hug. Gray freezes.

Natsu’s laugh continues to drown out his sobs. He could count on one hand how many times they had hugged, this was so far from their thing, but that doesn’t matter, not tonight.

“...’nd you’re the idiot that caused this.” Natsu parrots. Gray deflates in relief as he sees Natsu smiling, long arms wrap around him and hold him secure. “Th-th…-ank you…” Natsu whispers.

“You’re welcome, Natsu…” Gray replies, softly. “Happy birthday, dumbass.”

Eventually, Natsu breaks the hug, leaving with the knowledge that Gray’s friendship is one that he will never be able to leave behind completely. And Natsu isn’t surprised to realise, that Gray’s friendship is his home, too.