#mundane!kit makes me so [sad face]

[wikitpowers]

i’m here to say: i love kit rook just as much as i love kit herondale, both those kits are so important to me

[here4theheartbreak]

Omg! How does it feel to have the swaggiest bag and photocard holders in the world? I really need a photocard holder. I'm carrying around Seonghwa in my purse like he's my wartime sweetheart. 😅

I'm actually enjoying the chill — often sad — birthday songs. But I never thought about it like that?? It IS supposed to be a celebration/party~! Jongho, drop us a banger with a sexy beat in October?? Failing that, Wooyoung pull through?? I know he can do it! That Studio Choom 'Bad' is forever engraved into my brain.

It seems like San gets so passionate about things so fast? I feel like he'd argue for something SO mundane like it's the most important thing to him in the entire world. What an endearing, but also potentially hilarious, quality to have! And I'm suddenly having flashbacks of the Wanteez 'that's my rabbit~!' 🐰😂

They DEFINITELY had to give something to Jongho for that dinosaur video. I can feel it. They OWE him now. He's so funny though. So often, I think he might actually be the funniest member and that's a hard crown to reach for in such a funny group of men!

Exactly! THAT is what I want KQ to understand. Yet they continue to miss both the point AND the mark. (And they're making it very hard/nearly impossible for new fans to get into them.) If they just make more merch available, it will get bought up so fast and so consistently. And that would give them a MUCH larger profit margin — and all without their artists' labour. Also, yesss to more international fanmeets and fanevents. Honestly, I'd like the company to monitor them more closely though, like make it so the same people don't win over and over and over. Please, let them meet new faces.

My fankit literally just arrived about two minutes ago. Ahhh, I'm so excited to open it!

I lovvvvve Good Omens the book. But I haven't watched the series yet. I keep meaning to... but I never seem to actually do it? I annoy myself, because I know I'll love it. 😂

Ohhhhhh, you should definitely make an idol photocard tarot deck! It sounds like so much fun, even just as a little project?? If you do, you'll have to show me/tell me. I'm so interested in who you'd choose for what card!

THAT PHOTO OF SAN. CHOI SAN, WHY?? WHY IS IT ALWAYS YOU?? 😩💕

Let's see, what's been happening in Tinytown lately..

🌸 Jongho is injured again. 😩 I hope he gives himself time to get better, even if it takes months. I know he probably won't. Because he'll want to be back doing shows, with the other members, singing for atiny. But it would do him so much good to let it heal properly. It's so risky to his long term health. I know it's his choice at the end of the day, but I hope he sees a doctor who pushes for it.

🌸Queertiny are winning again? Apparently this is from the photobook dvd — featuring the pride, lesbian, bi, and trans flags??? That's our Ateez~! 🌈

🌸Talking of. Wooyoung taking photos in front of those rainbow crates/boxes? What a cool looking backdrop! I also would not have been able to resist...

🌸I'm excited about the tour? They get to see new countries and see more evidence of their global impact. And fingers crossed for some of those long YT lives where they're just eating and chatting for hours. Seonghwa and Hongjoong, I'm looking at you two!

Okay, I'm going to open the kit now~!

ahah this is the full bag - I have very little room left for pins, I need to stop collecting. i did move some of my photo card holders into the bag just because they were clicking around and I am afraid to lose them lol.

Aww that’s a cute picture of him tho! I don’t have a bigger wallet, just a guy’s like traditional bifold leather one so I don’t have any place to put a pc in mine 😂- I do need a new wallet tho and have considered a bigger one since I mostly shove it into my bag anyways so, idk tho. I used to carry one in the back of my phone case but I have a big sticker there (a UK based queer artist - also the one that did the 2 pins I have at the top of my bag, Heteronormativity is a Plague and Satan Respects Pronouns; here in the US there was a big fuss during pride month with this artist’s stuff and Target, the conservatives got it pulled from shelves bc it was “satanic” (none of the Target ones were this - they were all set pastel, love is love type things) - so I decided to buy from his shop instead of Target for pride instead lol

I like chill songs but they also make me wanna cryyy lol - if they’re happy so am I but yes, please, drop something less melancholy. Can still be slow! Just not gloomy lol. See Wooyoung is so back and forth like Ughhh Bad killed me, but then I watched his other dance performance of 1-800-273-8255 and I may or may not have cried for 10 minutes solid lol

San is so disproportionately passionate about things and I love that so much. He’s such a sensitive person like, the slightest upset really seems to hit him and make him speak up which is a beautiful thing, he seems like someone who really wouldn’t stand to let someone get pushed around, but also a sad thing - because being so empathetic and sensitive can be tough sometimes. But they all seem to support each other well, so I am sure he’s got enough members around to keep him from getting too lost in the feelings.

Jongho is 100% the funniest member purely because of how his humor hits. It’s very sudden, out of the blue and very dry, which is right up my alley. He uses intelligence and sarcasm as humor without being overly mean about it, and it’s such a delightful contrast to some of the other members’ more juvenile jokes or physical humor. The group really does have it all in every way.

Oh my fucking god don’t get me started on the serial fanmeet callers omfg. My friends and I firmly think there should be a limit, like max 1-2 calls per comeback, let new fans get a chance. Because what happens is it’s all these big GOMs that take advantage of the situation and keep the calls to themselves rather than giving back to the people that HELPED them get them. I am friends with a couple smaller GOMs here in my state and what they do is if they win more than one or two calls over a comeback, they end up raffling off the extra call(s) to their buyers - so anyone that wants to have their name added who’s bought from the GO that the call is from gets a chance to get their name drawn. I think that’s so much more fair and I feel like other GOMs should do that, esp the ones that do have 200+ albums per order and pretty much a guaranteed fancall.

Oh the series is so delightful. I haven’t watched season 2 yet - I’m hesitant bc I’ve heard it ends sad and with the current Hollywood writer’s strikes it’s a question mark on when the next season will be out - but I will watch it soon, I have every reason to believe it’s just as good as the first though, Gaiman being so deeply involved in it helps a lot. He’s such a good writer, one of my favorites. I’m going through s1 with my kiddo slowly.

I saw that about Jongho, poor thing - It seems to be connected to his earlier injury. Those meniscus tears are awful to heal from without surgery - and even with it it can be tough bc of how much stress his legs are under for his job; hopefully he’ll be able to take some time off like you mentioned. After this concert tour hopefully they can all take a short hiatus/break and recover before the next one. (I know I’m wishing for a miracle but)

Ahh I saw that little clip on twt with the hearts! I love it. you can’t tell me they don’t know what that means, they have enough editors ffs. I’m so excited to get my summer photobook (which is what these seem to be from I think?) It’s in the process of shipping so I am eagerly awaiting V_V Patience is not my strong suit lol.

And Wooyoung with the boxes was so good, I loved it, I think I saved one and put it in my lockscreen rotation on my phone lol

What did you think of the kit???

[the-blackdale]

QoAaD in-betweens

Kit and Ty in the shadowmarket

Headcanons

Long post warning ⚠ ( I got carried away 😅)

✰ what could've happened in one of Kit and Ty's visits to the shadow market ✰

It was just past midnight, they have been wandering the market for nearly an hour with no luck. no one was ready to sell them necromantic supplies because quote we dont do buisness with shadowhunters unquote. Kit should be happy that this necromancy plan was failing, but the problem was ,that it made Ty sad, which intern made Kit sad. He has to do something about this .

They were in the dark magic sector of the market, Ty was beside him with his headphones on and checking the list of ingredients they needed. Thats when he saw Big Ben's shop. Big Ben was a werewolf who often bullied young vampires and mundanes in the market. A plan started forming itself in the back of his mind.

He turned to Ty, and told him his plan. Ty was quite confused,"why would we shoplift when we can buy it ?" "Because its fun Ty !! And he used to bully me when I was young,this is payback." "But.." "Ty pleasseeee....."

After some pleading, Ty agreed. no one could resist Kit when he uses his special puppy-eyes. The plan was simple.

Ty went to Big ben's shop and started looking around like a curious customer, He pointed to something in the back of the shop and that was Kit's cue. As soon as Ben turned around, Kit made his way to shop and extended his hand to grab the small vial labelled as 'incense from the heart of the volcano'.

He was about to put the vial in his jeans pocket, when he felt someone knock into him from behind. Damn the crowd today. He lost his balance and grabbed at the fairy lights which were dangling in the front of the shop. He could see Ty reach out towards him, but he was too late. Before Kit could realise he crashed into the table where all the fancy glass orbs were kept, and heard them all crash in a deafening tone to the ground.

Big Ben turned at the noise and saw the vial in Kit's hand.He started to move towards Kit, screaming things like "bloody thiefs". Ty who was at first shocked by the noise recovered quickly and knocked over a plotted plant off the counter which, thankfully, landed on Big Ben's feets.

They exchanged a panicked look and started running like no tomorrow, Kit in the front pushing people apart to make way for them. He saw other customers and shop owners look curiously at them, but it was a normal thing at the shadow market. He could her Big Ben screaming at them from behind, he was limping a bit, and occasionally jumping up and down clutching his injured leg with both his hands, it made his look like a kangaroo, and Kit couldn't help but burst out laughing at the thought.

They were still running when they reached the fairy section of the market, it was quite crowded and they have lost Being Ben somewhere in the way. Kit glanced behind him to check on Ty, his hood was up and his headphones were on his ears. His hair was all disheveled from the running and his face was flushed, he also had a smile on his face which caught Kit's breath away. That smile was missing after livvy's death, it was like there was no sunrise in Kit's life.

Kit was too distracted by Ty's smile,cause next he knew, he was knocking into someone who was holding a huge painting in front of their face. Quite clumsy for a shadowhunter. He stumbled backwards and crashed into Ty, who intern lost his balance and they both fell into a table which held many different kinds of candies and fairy fruits.

He could hear the screams of many fairies, which to be honest, were really shrill. The bowls were made from fairy wood, so thank god they didnt broke, but the candies were scattered everywhere.

He landed with his ankle above Ty's foot, and he had somehow managed to grab onto Ty's left sleeve when he was falling, which was a bad decision both because Ty doesnt like being startled, and Kit took Ty down with him when he was falling. He quickly left Ty's sleeve and looked up at the fairy who was selling those candies, they were shouting something is a language, which Kit was glad he didnt understood.

Ty was the first to recover, He stood up and extended a hand to Kit. Kit gladly latched onto Ty's hand and let himself be pulled up. The fairy was still shouting at them and making weird hand gestures at all the mess that was made of their candies. Kit glanced at his and Ty's linked hands . Ty's hands were soft and warm, they fit perfectly with Kit's.

Ty pulled lightly at Kit's hand to get his attention. wow, he really had zoned out in the middle of a mess thinking about his and Ty's joined hands. When Kit looked up at Ty, he had a mischievous grin on his face, Kit couldn't help but smile, he understood what Ty was trying to say.

they started running again, this time with Ty in the front and their hands still clasped together. Ok, he needs to stop thinking about his hand in Ty's, it was distracting ! They passed various stall with fairies in them, but no one payed them any attention.

Ty rounded a corner pulling Kit with him as they entered a small alley which was separated from the market by a beaded curtain. The noises from the market were muffled here, so Ty removed his headphones. Kit ignored the way his heart crumpled when Ty pulled his hand away from Kit's.

Ty bend over and put both his hands on his knees, he was breathing heavily but also laughing, this was the most fun he has ever had !! Kit was leaning against a wall, also breathing heavily but still with a smile on his face. They looked at each other for a moment and doubled over with a new wave of laughter.

when they could finally breathe, Kit took the vial of incense from his jeans pocket and threw it towards Ty, who expertly caught it and added it to their shopping bag with the other ingredients.

He was about to suggest that they walk to the main street where their Uber would pick them up, when Ty said," I got something for you".He reached into his hoodie pocket and took out a handful of candies. Rose flavoured. "I picked them when we crashed into the candy table" at that he looked down and Kit would've said that he was blushing if his cheeks werent already flush from all the running " I noticed you have a sweet tooth and thought that you would like these."

Kit couldn't help but smile, his heart was full of happiness and something else he couldn't pin point. The mere fact that Ty noticed was enought to turn him into a blushing teenage girl with a crush.

Ty was there, slowly breaking down everything he used to believe about his life and replacing it with something as beautifull and pleasant as a dream. Yet so real. It was like Ty set free a bunch of fireflies in his dark world and everything was suddenly glamorous and worth fighting for.

in this moment, in a deserted back alley with dull lights and muffled noises of a crowd, Kit fell a bit more in love with Ty, and Ty fell a bit more in love with Kit.

Tagging some moots,hope yall dont mind: @ghafa-dale @niathesanctuary-bolastair-kanej @autumnangel20 @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @eutonyinwhisper @queenlilith43 @pink-party-dino @clarys-heosphoros @neo-lightchild-decafineator @will-herondale-my-beloved @dark-artifices-only @gabtapia

[khaleesiofalicante]

START OF SOMETHING NEW

“Tavvy, on your left!”

Rafael swivelled off the tree branch, landing gracefully on the floor and quickly wiped off the dust from his coat. They were in the middle of a fight, but his Bapa had taught him that one always had to look their best - especially during a fight.

“Rafe?��� his parabatai called out, grabbing another seraph blade from his boot.

Rafael’s fingers pulled on the bowstring by instinct and muscle memory. The arrow slashed through the air and landed on the Shax’s demon’s forehead - or whatever that body part was. It was always so hard to tell with demons.

“Thanks!” Tavvy clasped his shoulder. “Let’s go find the others.”

Rafael nodded and they both ran toward the garden. Mina and his brother had been separated from them during the fight. He hadn’t applied a speed rune, but he didn’t need one when it came to Max.

His dad had taught him everything about what it means to be a good shadowhunter. But the first lesson was simple - always have your family’s back. Always.

They spotted Mina as soon as they made it to the garden. Mina, who was the youngest among them but probably the boldest, was fighting off a Shax all on her own. Rafael noticed another one creeping up behind her. He raised his bow and aimed his shot.

“Not my bestie, you bitch!”

A bolt of blue magic appeared from above and Max landed on the ground, his blue curls falling over his forehead. The Shax turned into goo as Mina skilfully took care of the other one.

“10 points for Ravenclaw for that reference,” Mina high fived Max.

“Nerds,” Tavvy chuckled as the two of them ran up to them.

“Nicely done,” Rafe told the team as he checked Max for any visible wounds.

“Hermano, no!” Max shooed him away. “There is something you both should see.”

Rafe stared at Tavvy, who shrugged and followed the others. They walked into mansion..or what was left of it.

“By the angel. What the hell happened here?” Rafe gasped.

“There were too many Shax demons,” Mina explained. “Max and I had to release a fireball. A big one.”

“Max, Bapa has told you not to do the fireball unless it’s an emergency!” Rafe sighed.

“Excuse me but if battling twenty shax demons doesn’t count as an emergency then I don’t know what does!” Max argued.

“Twenty?” Tavvy echoed. “There were only five!”

“The rest of them turned up after we got separated,” Mina pointed out. “I think they were hiding in the mansion.”

“Do we have any idea who the mansion belongs to?” Rafe asked, already calculating possible damage costs. “Is it a mundane?”

“We don’t know,” Max shrugged. “Can we go now?”

“We can’t!” Rafe said. “You just blew up someone’s mansion. Protocol says we need to do something about it.”

“Protocol is the worst,” Mina and Max mumbled.

“We need back up,” Tavvy looked at him.

“Oh no,” Mina pouted. “Not back up!”

Calling for back up usually meant the mission had gone out of control - and that usually meant no more missions for a while.

“If we call for backup, then they probably won’t let us go on a mission for another three months!” Tavvy grumbled. “Remember what happened in Shanghai?”

“Let’s not,” Max winced. “I think the only reason we got away with it is because of Uncle Jem.”

“Well, we can’t call him here now,” Rafe replied. “He already helped us last time!”

“Then what are we going to do now?” Mina asked. “We need help. But we can’t let the Clave know about this. No offence, guys!”

“None taken,” Max and Rafe said at the same time.

One would think that life would be easier when your dad was the Consul. But that wasn’t the case for Max and Rafe. Their dad was extremely protective of them and would probably take them off field duty for god knows how long.

“Alright, gang!” Max said as they stood in a circle. “We need to find someone who will help us handle this quietly without getting into trouble.”

“We can call Kit,” Mina said. “You know he won’t say a word.”

“But he is in the Moscow institute with Ty,” Tavvy groaned.

“We can call Uncle Jace,” Max beamed. “He is the perfect man for the job.”

“But he is in faerie,” Mina sighed.

“Anyone else borderline concerned that both our options are Herondales?” Rafe inquired.

“We need more Herondales goddamnit!” Max swore. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Well,” Tavvy rubbed his neck. “We are in a helpless situation and need someone to save our asses. Historically, there is only one person we can rely on.”

“Nope,” Rafael said immediately.  

“Already texted him,” Max grinned as he put his phone away.

A blue portal appeared in less than a minute and their Bapa stepped out, striding towards them in a hurry.

“Are you all okay?” He started checking them for wounds, even Tavvy and Mina.

“We are fine, Bapa,” Rafe smiled. “But we can’t say the same for the mansion though.”

“Yikes,” his father said eloquently as he took in their surrounding. “Well, it looks like it was badly in need for a renovation anyway.”

“Uncle Magnus,” Tavvy gulped. “Why is the portal still open?”

Rafe turned around immediately to see the portal shimmering behind them.

“Um, about that,” his Bapa fiddled with his rings. “I might have bought some backup.”

“Dios mio!” Rafael gulped.

“It’s not my fault!” Bapa put up his hands. “Max texted 911! I freaked out! Besides, he was right there when you texted me! What was I supposed to do?”

Before any of them could answer, their dad, and the mother effing Consul, stepped out of the portal.

He immediately ran towards them and scanned them with frantic eyes.

“Is everything okay?” He asked. “I was on a call with the Alliance and they can get here-”

“Bapa, we are fine!” Max reassured him. “It’s just…well.”

“Just some collateral damage, darling,” Bapa chuckled.

The Consul looked around at that and gasped. The mansion was still slowly falling apart slowly.

“Paperwork,” their dad whispered, mostly to himself. “So much paperwork.”

“Darling, it’s just a little mess.”

“Little?”

“Alec, it isn’t like we didn’t blow things up and cause a mess back then,” Bapa said - ever the support of mischief. 

“I have never blown up anything in my life,” his father said indignantly. 

“True,” Bapa shrugged. “But I do recall you making questionable decisions. Remember how you almost ripped apart that vampire because he insulted me?”

“Wasn’t that last week?” Mina chuckled. 

“Exactly,” Bapa grinned at her. “They are still learning.”

“Magnus, I get that. But they ca-”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Max bit his lip.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Mina said quickly. “We were outnumbered. We had to do a fireball.”

“Blueberry, I know fireballs are a cool aesthetic. But I’ve told you that strong magic must be preserved for serious situ-”

“There were twenty Shax demons, Bapa!” Max pointed out. “Mins and I got separated from the others. We couldn’t fight them all off on our own. We didn’t do it for the aesthetic. We needed to do the fireball to survive.”

The Consul, who was listening them intently, rubbed his beard. Rafe had told him to shave it off multiple times, but their Bapa apparently liked it and thus the beard stayed on.

“Twenty Shax demons isn’t normal!” He pointed out. “We need to launch an investigation.”

“Can we do it?” Max asked, already excited at the prospect.

“Max, all of you are too young-”

“We are almost the same age as you were when you battled Valentine,” Rafael pointed out defiantly.

He saw Bapa smile fondly but dad didn’t falter.

“We’ll be careful, sir,” Tavvy said in a way and that reminded Rafe so much of Julian. “We’ve been tracking the demons since last month. We can handle it.”

Alec looked at Magnus - they were clearly communicating in a way only married people could. Rafe looked at Max who just shrugged. Either of them had been able to break their parent’s secret communication code.

“Alright,” their dad finally said. “Octavian, you will lead the team. You must report to me directly. But I will be nominating one nephilim and downworlder adult to assist you in the mission. If something goes wrong next time, you must directly contact them.”

“Thanks, dad!” Max threw himself at their father. “I knew you are the best Consul.”

Their father only grinned and ruffled Max’s curls. Rafael slowly made his way to him and hugged him from the side.

“Sorry about the mess, dad,” he mumbled. “I promise I will watch out for Max next time.”

“You need to watch out for yourself too,” their dad whispered softly.

“Mr. Consul,” their Bapa said in a formal voice and their dad rolled his eyes. “I would like to volunteer as the downworlder representative for this Taskforce.”

“Hells yeah!” Max pumped his fist in the year.

“Not gonna happen,” their dad shook his dead.

“What? Why?” Their bapa pouted.

“You’re gonna sit this one out,” his father said sternly. “You have a pathological need to get involved in shadowhunter business.”

“No, I don’t!” their bapa gasped. “You’re the weirdo!”

“You will be working with Drusilla Blackthorn and Lily Chen,” their dad said. “Rafe, I need a report on today’s mission by the end of this week. Octavian, arrange a meeting with Drusilla and Lily immediately. And Max and Mina, try not to blow anything up in the meantime.”

“We have one more request,” Max raised his hand.

“We do?” Rafael questioned.

“This is clearly a serious mission,” Max said in a serious voice. “We need more manpower.”

“Maia and the others are busy with the Allia-”

“Actually, we were thinking of someone younger,” Mina pointed out.

“Someone whose last name might be Herondale,” Max grinned.

“No,” their dad whispered softly. “Not the twins.”

“It’s a dangerous mission that involves fighting demons and blowing things up. If we leave Alex and Charlotte out, we will never hear the end of it,” Rafe pointed out with a smile.

“Fine,” his father relented. “Only because they are excellent fighters and would actually be helpful.”

“In blowing things up,” their bapa chuckled softly.

“Oh oh!” Max put up his hand up excitedly again. “Can we ask George to join us too? And Becca?”

“Max, this is not a birthday party!” His father sighed. “You can’t just invite all your friends.”

Max looked Rafe with a sad face. Rafael had never really been able to say no to that.

“We get it, dad,” Rafael nodded. “So if aunt Izzy asks why we didn’t include her kids in our mission, we’ll just say you said no. Is that correct?”

Their bapa covered his mouth from laughing out loud. “They do have a valid point, Alexander.”

The Consul looked at all their faces and sighed tiredly. “Fine. But if one more person is added to this list…Magnus and I will handle the mansion. The rest of you are dismissed!”

“Dad, quick question,” Max raised his hand - again. “If we add Elyaas to the gang, does that count? Cause he is technically not a person-”

“MAX MICHAEL!!!”

A holiday gift for @crying-is-your-latest-fashion​ - for being pretty fucking amazing 💚

[thomaslightwood]

“I didn’t know where else to go” kitty🥺❤️

I want to apologize to both of you - you send these requests before the Gabrily and Charlotte x Henry ones but to write three KitTy fics in a raw would be a little too much for me 😅 (I also hope you don't mind I mixed your requests and made them second part of another fic 😅)

Also - thank you ♥️ I hope you enjoy this!

Part one of “I'm leaving” fic (it's not necessary to have read it to understand this fic)

PROMPTS: (50# general) “I didn’t know where else to go.” + (25# fluff) “Your hair is really soft.”

•

After the mission Kit waited, along with a few other Shadowhunters for Portal to London, so he could leave.

When he tried to talk with Ty, he looked at him with a weird expression and told him to go.

Kit was confused. Ty kissed him and said they needed to talk but now he acted like nothing happened. What Kit was supposed to do?

Someone yelled the Portal to London is open. Kit looked at Ty one more time. He looked pale on the moonlight, his shoulders tense. Kit got worried. Did he get hurt without Kit noticing? Or had it something to do with Livvy? Or because it was noisy here?

Or maybe he regrets that he kissed me and avoids me now, Kit thought bitterly and stepped in the portal. He wanted to go home.

•

It had been a few hours since the mission. Kit took a shower, ate.

Jem and Tessa were awake, waiting for him to return. Mina was asleep. They noticed something was wrong. Of course they did. But Kit told them everything is fine and he was just tired. This wasn't untrue. He was tired and wanted to rest. But remembering that Ty kissed him and then acted like he didn't want to look at Kit hurt him like a knife.

A terrible thought crossed Kit's mind. What if Ty did it for revenge? To hurt Kit the way Kit hurt him? By leaving him? But he immediately rejected it. Ty wasn't like this. He wasn't manipulative or mean. He wouldn't do this to Kit. Or to anyone.

Kit decided he was done with overthinking. He had to do something, to distract himself from thinking about Ty. So he went to train.

But even before he could put on a gear, he heard something. Steps. Kit tensed immediately and grabbed the weapon closest to him - knife.

He quietly approached the place the sound was coming from. He could see a person's figure. Was this...

“Ty?”

Kit thought he was hallucinating but it really was Ty. On their mission together he couldn't see him properly because it was night, but Ty stepped into the light now.

He was taller than Kit now - he noticed it on the mission too. But he noticed something else now - Ty looked stronger, with more muscle and more... mature. His skin was pale as Kit remembered it. And his eyes, grey as steel, was looking at his collarbone.

Kit put down the knife. His heart was beating fast, aching, but he came closer to the other boy. Ty's expression was dark. He was wearing other clothes, not gear, but mundane t-shirt, jeans and jacket.

“What are you doing here?” Kit asked, sharper than he intended.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Ty said.

“What happened? Why... How did you get here?”

“I asked Ragnor to open a Portal for me,” Ty said. “He wasn't happy about it but I convinced him.”

“This is not important," Ty said, sounding somehow urgent. “I came here because of Livvy.”

“Livvy?” Kit was confused. He hasn't seen her for so long. “Why? Where is she?”

“I don't know,” Ty said and frowned. “This is the problem. At least one of them. I felt that... that something is wrong with her. At the mission. I wanted to come back to the Scholomance to check on her but she wasn't there.”

Kit's stomach tightened. He remembered what happened when she was here the last time.

“I thought that she may be here because you're the only one who can see her besides me.”

“I'm sorry,” Kit shook his head. “I haven't seen her.”

Ty signed and ran a hand through his hair. His hair was longer now.

“We may search the house,” Kit said hesitantly. “She probably wants to be around people or something like that.”

Ty didn't seem convinced but he didn't have a better option.

They went to Kit's room first, in case Livvy was waiting for him there. Then the kitchen. The garden.

“We may check Mina's room,” Kit suggested. “She's a baby but is a heavy sleeper. Unlike Jem and Tessa.”

Ty agreed, looking desperate.

Kit put on a soundless rune and slowly opened the door to Mina's room. Ty was behind him.

There they saw Livvy. She was sitting in the corner of the room, Mina's toys all around the floor. She was looking at the sleeping Mina. Her expression was sorrow, guilty and so sad that Kit looked away. It felt too private.

He didn't dare to look at Ty either. He just closed the door as slowly as he opened it.

“She knows I'm here,” Ty said quietly. “She'll come when she's ready.”

Kit nodded. “Let's go to the kitchen until we wait.”

Ty agreed, without looking at him and Kit led the way. He asked Ty if he wanted something to eat or drink. He said only water. Kit got them glasses of water and sat on the table, in front of Ty. The dark-haired boy took one of the cups and drank the water. He didn't let go of the glass.

“I'm sorry,” Ty said. “If my leaving offended you. I was worried about Livvy.”

“It's okay,” Kit said and looked at his half-full glass. “I understand.”

Ty took a breath. “What I wanted to talk about is actually... what happened three years ago.”

Kit squeezed the cup. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ty repeated. His glass was already empty so he slowly ran fingers all around it. “Back then I terribly misunderstood the situation.”

Kit looked at him, confused. “How?”

After a few seconds Ty said, “I thought that you're helping me bring Livvy back is because you're in love with her.”

A shock hit Kit. God, Ty was thinking...

“You have got the twin wrong,” he said, not without bitterness.

“I saw how you two kissed,” Ty just said.

Kit took a sharp breath.

“That's not... It was not what you think.”

Ty looked at Kit, at his nose. “What was I supposed to think, Kit?”

“We didn't do it because we liked each romantically or something,” Kit tried to explain, anxious. “Just... she asked me. She wanted to know what's like to kiss someone. This was the only reason. I... I thought she's pretty, of course. But nothing more. There weren't any feelings from my side. Not for her.”

And you're the one I think is beautiful, Kit thought but didn't dare to say it out aloud.

“I-”

“Boys?” The very sleepy and very surprised Jem was standing at the kitchen's door.

They both stand up, Kit nerves like he was caught making out with someone.

“Ugh,” he said. “Good morning.”

Jem blinked. “Good morning, Kit.” He looked at Ty. “Ty Blackthorn. Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Ty said and was Kit imagining it or he sounded nervous too?

“What are you doing here? Visiting our Kit?”

“Something like that,” Kit murmured.

“Then why in the middle of-”

“Jem, we're good,” Kit hurried to explain. “Ty, ugh, didn't realize the difference between time zones. Or he would have come at a different time.”

Kit hated lying to Jem but what could he tell him? That they searched for Ty's dead sister?

“Our time zones are only two hours apart,” Ty murmured, but thankfully Jem didn't hear him.

“If you say so,” Jem was looking at them, still a little stunned. “Ty, I don't know if Kit already did it, but I can prepare a room for you.”

“There is no need,” Ty said.

He was gonna go soon, Kit realized. In the moment Livvy returned, they were gonna go back to the Scholomance. This was an unexpectedly painful thought.

“Oh, then you will stay in Kit's room?”

Wait, what?

Kit looked at Jem but he was already turning away, saying he came only for water and will leave them alone. He looked at Ty who had the same stunned face as Kit.

“I will tell Tessa you're here,” Jem said. “In the morning we can have breakfast together,” he smiled and left the kitchen.

Kit hid his face with both hands and murmured, “I'm so sorry. Jem is too friendly sometimes.”

“Well,” Ty said. “I will just sleep here then.”

“Are you sure? Don't you have classes or something?”

“No. Tomorrow is a free day.”

“Okay,” Kit said and nervously looked everywhere but Ty. “Will we wait for Livvy?”

“We don't have to. We're close to each now and she can find me.”

“Good,” Kit said. “Then... Shall we go?” He still couldn't believe what just happened. He was going to sleep in one room with Ty. Probably in one bed as well. When they were fifteen they used to do this but this time, he thought, it would be different.

Ty looked at him for a second. “Okay.”

•

At the next morning, Kit was strangely cozy. His whole body was warm and in a comfortable position. He wasn't cold or sore like he usually was after intense training or demon hunting.

His mind didn't realize what was happening. He was lying on someone - he could hear a beating heart and touch skin. His face was in someone's neck. He signed happily.

Kit felt someone's hands on his back and then fingers in his hair.

“Your hair is really soft,” a murmur. This voice...

He raised his head with reluctance to look at the other person. For seconds, a very few seconds he met grey eyes, grey like a storm.

Kit jumped from his embrace and sat on the bed. His heart was beating faster than ever and his throat was dry. He was sure his face was red.

He was sleeping on Ty, for fuck's sake. And Ty let him, he just let Kit snuggle into him. Kit was so embarrassed he could die.

Ty sat on the bed too. He could hear the smile in his voice. “Sorry, I didn't want to startle you. You slept so peacefully that I just didn't want to wake you up.”

“He is not bothered by that.”

Kit looked up at Livvy, who was grinning at the other end of the room, probably watching them for a while.

Kit flushed. “Shut up,” he murmured. “Jem and Tessa will wait us for breakfast,” he said and got out of bed without looking at Ty. He couldn't forget his intense gaze.

It wasn't like they were doing anything. Just sleeping and cuddling. Nothing happened.

“I'm first in the bathroom,” Kit said. He heard Livvy's laugh behind him.

[kats-baku1999]

Play with Fire

Master List

Warnings: spoilers, angsty, mentions of death

Chapter One: Childhood Memories

Asami was never the kid to idolize heroes. Sure she thought they were cool, but she had no desire to become one. Even when the doctor made a comment about how she would make a great hero, the day her parents took her for her check up after getting her quirk. She had no desire to become a hero. She did however want to teach at UA High, and help people become heroes. It was a conflicting idea, but one she held onto.. She just didn’t see herself as a hero, but definitely as support.

“Hi mom!” Asami yelled rushing in the front door, kicking her shoes off before running up the stairs. She changed out of her school uniform, and rushed back down the stairs. Her mother was standing in the kitchen, cutting up the vegetables for dinner. She always made it home before everyone else to make sure things were clean, and dinner was ready by the time her husband made it home. Life for the Kurai family was very mundane, but strict in their ideals.

They were not supportive of the hero society. It was not an uncommon thing in this day and age. People were starting to lose interest in the heroes, and beginning to see them as nothing more than glorified celebrities. Both Mr. Kurai and Mrs. Kurai were relieved when Asami said she just wanted to be a teacher like them. She wasn’t old enough for them to explain that heroes are a dying culture, and that she shouldn’t idolize them. Asami still had her favorites though, so they let her hold onto ideals.

“I’m going to go to the hill to explore for a little bit to solve the mystery of the burnt grass!” Asami proclaimed, standing behind her mom who was still cutting up vegetables for dinner.

“Okay, just be back before it’s dark,” Her mom smiled at her overly curious daughter. Asami nodded her head, darting out the back door.

Through the small grove of trees and to a back hill. Asami had been coming here forever, and then a few months ago she started to find pieces of burnt grass. Sure someone could just be coming up here to have a campfire or something, but the burns seemed different. From what Asami could gather, the flames would’ve had to been stronger than just a camp fire. After all the grass wasn’t just burnt in some spots, it was as if the ground had been disintegrated.

“Whoah, what’re you doing?!” Asami froze, she never saw any other people up on this hill. There he was though, a boy with red hair that had white pieces flicked throughout it. He was glaring at her, and carrying a bag. Asami’s entire face went red at how close she was to the boy. He kept scanning over her face with his eyes, but he looked irritated.

Asami finally noticed the surroundings. The hill had smoke coming off of it, and the boy was covered in burns. It all started to click in her head, this boy was the one causing the burnt grass.

“You’re hurt!” Asami exclaimed, rushing forward. The boy tensed up as she touched the burns on him. She looked at the marks for a second, noting the other scars that were on his arms. Asami sighed, looking back up at him, “If you’re going to burn the landscape, you could at least try to not burn yourself,”

“Tch,” The boy yanked his arm away, “What would you know? My quirk is just so awesome, and it needs a little more training,”

“Your quirk hurting you isn’t awesome,” Asami rolled her eyes, “Come on, I’ll take you back to my house and get the burns cleaned up,”

“I don’t need some girls help,” The red and white haired boy glared, and Asami glared right back, knocking him up the side of the head.

“Do you have any manners?” Asami huffed, grabbing his hand trying to avoid the burns, “My name is Asami Kurai, and I’m going to help you with your burns,”

“You’re so annoying,” The boy mumbled, but still let her drag him along, “I’m Touya, Touya Todoroki.”

Asami led Touya back to her house. She held a finger up to her mouth, signaling for him to be quiet. They went in through the front door, both quietly sneaking up the stairs. She led Touya into her room, and he had to fight back the snicker at the small All Might plushie that was on her bed.

“You know Endeavor is the better hero right?” Touya smirked, “And when I’m bigger I am going to be even better than both Endeavor and All Might,”

“Well I’m sure you have a long way to go,” Asami laughed walking into the bathroom connected to her room to grab the medic kit, “After all you’re only like five right?”

“Huh?!” Touya yelled, and Asami smacked a hand over his mouth, both of them freezing to listen for if her mom heard her.

“Keep quiet!” Asami hissed, and opened up the med kit to get out the ointment. Touya watched as she carefully dabbed it onto his burns.

“I’m seven for your information,” Touya whispered, his face turning red when she looked up at him with a grin.

“Same age as me, sorry you just seemed small for our age,” Asami apologized, as she started to wrap his burns, “You’re Endeavor’s son right? You said your last name was Todoroki,”

“Yeah, yeah I am, his first born,” Touya said it proudly, “I am the one who will surpass him and All Might, it’s the goal he gave me himself,”

“Seems like a pretty big goal,” Asami giggled.

“Yeah well when I reach that goal, you can have a job at my hero agency, so you can always be there to bandage me up like this,” Touya said proudly, and Asami again just rolled her eyes.

“I’m not going to be a hero, I’m going to teach just like my mother and father, I’ll help at UA to train the next round of heroes,” Asami explained to Touya who looked at her completely confused, “I just don’t think my quirk would be good as a hero,”

“Well what is your quirk?” Touya looked at her, not understanding how someone could not want to be a hero. Everyone his age wanted to he a hero.

“I’ll show it to you another day,” Asami sighed, “After all its getting dark and I need to eat dinner soon,”

“Oh yeah okay,” Touya hopped off her bed, staring at her still, “Uhm, I uh train at the hill a lot if you want to come watch.”

And so she did. Everyday she would sneak off to the hill to watch her new found friend train. Bringing along the med kit to make sure if he got hurt she was right there. This became their ritual, and after an amount of weeks that turned into a year.. They were friends. Best friends actually. Touya eventually opened up to Asami, about everything. About why he was pushing so hard to become a hero, to keep using his quirk. Despite the burns.

“Mom had Shoto, his hair is split perfectly in half” Touya mumbled one day, sitting on the hill. Asami frowned at him, sitting down on the spot next to him. The sun was setting on the horizon, and she knew she needed to be home soon. Right now though, Touya needed her more.

“I guess that is what your father wanted?” Asami sighed, looking at her best friend, “If he would just see how far you’ve come, I mean really you’re getting so much better!”

“Thanks Mimi,” Touya used her pet name, but his voice was sad, “He’s just marked me as a failure in his eyes, and I don’t know if I can change his mind,”

“No, Touya you listen to me,” Asami demanded, “You are going to be an amazing hero, I’ve been doing research there are support items, ways for you to use your quirk without it damaging you!”

“Asami, you’re an amazing best friend, but maybe he’s right maybe if I stop obsessing over this,”

“You can’t give up on your dream Touya, promise me you won’t let him ruin this dream!” Asami yelled at Touya, “Come on, show me your flames!”

“Asami-”

“Touya, show me!”

Touya did show her, and his flames were ridiculously strong. Strong enough he was burnt more than ever before. The burns were so bad, but Touya was so excited. Asami tried her best to clean them up, but she just couldn’t. So he had to rush home. That night, Touya snapped for the first time. Almost hurting Shoto. Guilt filled him, but he also felt almost.. Disappointed?

After the incident Touya began focusing more on things like playing with his siblings and Asami. Finally the parents were allowing Asami to play with Touya at his house. After all, they were thirteen now. Growing up, and feelings adjusting to their age. Asami’s parents even referred to Touya as her boyfriend constantly, making both of their faces turn bright red. There was never any denying from either of them though, just silent red faces. Both of them knew that they had a crush on each other, so they were able to just hang out and have fun.

“Asami!” Fuyumi squealed, launching herself at the purple haired girl. Asami giggled, squeezing the girl, and then ruffling Natsuo’s hair. Touya walked into the entry way, smiling at Asami proudly.

“How was school today?” Touya grinned, he had stayed home due to not feeling good.

“Good! Weird without you, but good!” Asami grinned, “It’s so quiet in here today?”

“Yeah, the old man is gone,” Touya mumbled, “He and mom left, so the nanny is with Shoto,”

“They gave her strict rules to not let him anywhere near us,” Natsuo pouted, “I wish he could just play with us, just this once!”

Asami paused for a second. Before finally smiling proudly, coming up with an idea.

“He can.”

Touya looked at her for a second, before finally letting it click in his head. She was going to use her quirk. Asami had a quirk called Alternate Reality, basically she could make anyone believe they were somewhere else. As long as she didn’t hold it for too long, then she would be fine.

They slid open the door, earning the attention of both of them. Shoto looked confused, and the nanny annoyed. She went to shoo them out of the room, but fell directly into Asami’s trap.

“Shoto right?” Asami grinned, smiling at the boy. He nodded his head, cowering a little bit. Asami noticed the bumps and injuries on him. He looked exhausted.

“Big brother?” Shoto whispered, looking at Touya who was biting the inside of his cheek. Touya nodded his head, leaning down to his brothers eye level.

“We only have a little bit, so come play with us before he gets back,” Touya whispered, holding his hand out to Shoto. The youngest brother placed his small hand in his oldest brother’s. That was the first, and last time Shoto would interact with his siblings before everything fell apart.

Endeavor never found out about that day, but a few weeks later Touya went off the deep end. He distanced himself from Asami, and began training again. When winter break rolled around, Asami was close to giving up on him. Till she saw smoke coming from their meeting point. A lot of smoke, and bright blue flames. Asami took off out of the back door, her mother screaming for her. When she got to the hill, all she could see was it was engulfed in flames. A crowd was gathering, and within it all, she could hear Touya’s screams.

“No!” Asami screamed taking off towards the flames, someone grabbing her before she could go into the flames, “Touya! Touya please, no, just hold on!”

“Mimi! Please! They’re too much!” Touya’s voice was cracking, his throat going raw from screaming.

Anyone who was on the scene that day, would note that even when Touya’s screams faded out, Asami’s were just as haunting. Her parents finally coming to the hill too, grabbing their daughter from the stranger. Endeavor showed up on the scene, trying to go through the rubble, looking for any sign of his son. All they found that day was a piece of his jaw.

Endeavor approached the Kurai family, looking sadly at the girl. He knew that she was his best friend. He had watched them together.

“Asami-”

“This is your fault,” Asami yelled, shoving the larger man away from her, “All you had to do was be his father, to support him, to see him!”

“Asami!” Her father yelled, grabbing his daughter back. She smacked his hand away from her.

“You listen to me Endeavor, I am going to carry on Touya’s dream, but with my own twist, I am coming for you.”

Asami turned away from the scene. Wiping away her hysterical tears. Doing her best to keep it together. She walked back to her house, silently sobbing to herself. When she got back into her room, she began her plan. She didn’t give a damn about becoming number one, all she cared about was beating Endeavor.

In any way possible.

[chrysalispen]

iv. never give the heart outright

AO3 link HERE Chapter under cut.

====

The day Aurelia Laskaris left Gridania dawned damp and foggy: as mundane and unremarkable a sendoff as one could possibly wish. The heat wave had relented overnight and the wind with it, and the trees’ leaves hung still and sparkling with droplets of dew. Pale rays of early morning sun filtered through the low-hanging wisps of cloud and collected dust motes and small insects in their wake. The quality of it reminded her of L’haiya’s lace curtains, the way their softness and the delicate patterns and filtered sunbeams had always framed the sitting room windows of her girlhood home.

The driver of the chocobo carriage aimed to set out from the city before full daybreak. Thus she stood in drowsy silence along with half a dozen other passengers set to board, watching the lalafellin teamster as he and the Canopy’s porters secured the larger bags. Barring any unforeseen incidents, the carriage’s route would take them south past Quarrymill, through the marshes near old Amdapor, and south into the high desert of northeastern Thanalan until they reached Ul’dah.

It had taken her all of three days to conclude her affairs: there was, after all, no property for her to sell, nor any anxious relatives to wheedle her into remaining.

Watching the small man loop his handfuls of hempen rope to secure over boxes and bags and other people’s assorted belongings, Aurelia felt a certain twinge of wistfulness that she had not expected. The forest city was not quite home, but it had served as the closest thing she had to one for nearly five years. But it was not enough to keep her. The excitement of the road ahead had not left her, and she faced the morning with bright eyes and a clear mind. The sun was up and so was she.

Keveh’to did not share her optimism, that much was obvious with a mere glance. The Miqo’te stood at her side with an expression one could only describe as pained. His ears lay flat against his fluffy hair, and his fawn-colored bottlebrush tail lashed emphatic and agitated beats against her leg.

“I know I’ve asked you half a dozen times now,” he said quietly, “but are you absolutely certain about this?"

Her answer was the same as it had been each time he had asked:

“As certain as I shall ever be.”

“That isn’t reassuring.”

“Yes, well,” she felt a twinge of annoyance at his pessimism surface at last, “as one recalls, ‘twas you who made the suggestion that I consider further study afield.”

"When you told me you’d give the matter some thought, I didn’t expect you to come back to Miounne’s place the same day with a letter of introduction already scripted and sealed.” His arms folded over his chest and he stared up into the canopy. “E-Sumi-Yan must have had that letter already waiting to give to you, whatever he said.”

“Perhaps. It’s not as though he would have told me if he did.” Aurelia looked down at herself and smoothed the pleats of her skirt yet again. All of it, from head to toe, was new. It felt so odd; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had new clothing. “Thank you again,” she continued, somewhat awkwardly. “For the traveling attire. It's quite fine.”

Keveh’to shrugged. A dull rosy flush crept up the sides of his neck. “It’s Ul’dah,” he said. “They’ll toss you out the gates on your arse if you show up looking like a beggar.”

“Hells below,” she tried to make a jest of it with a soft laugh, “you make it sound as though they’ll have a fashion inspector awaiting my arrival.”

“No. But I’ve known my share of that lot, and ‘tis not unlikely they’ll hit you with a demand for a hefty bribe at least once.”

“Yes, I’ve heard stories from some of the others.”

“And for goodness’ sake, Relia- please do yourself a favor and be careful about the company you keep. No one needs to know about you-know-what.” He tapped his temple with a humorless smile. “Ul’dah is a great deal more cosmopolitan than our humble little forest abode, but even they might balk at that.”

The stare she gave him could best be described as obstinate, with the hard set of her jawline. “...I might be ignorant of many Eorzean customs, but I should like to think I am not that much of a fool.”

“I’m trying to watch out for you.”

“Rest assured, I do appreciate the thought.” Still so glum. She frowned at him, “I thought that this decision would have pleased you. You made no secret you were tired of watching me mope about.”

“I- yes. But-”

He opened his mouth, stuttered into empty air, then sighed.

The other passengers milled about them in a somnolent shuffle, muttering to each other and passing bags back and forth. A pair of snowy-haired elezen twins in clothing as new and fine as her own brushed past Aurelia and Keveh’to without sparing a second glance, their identical braids and hair-ribbons stirring in a cool and sluggish breeze from the riverbank. She waited for the pair to pass well out of earshot before she continued, as gently as she could manage:

“This isn’t goodbye forever, you know.”

“I know.”

“They gave me honorary citizenship. I think I’m obligated to at least visit from time to time.” Another jest, one which failed in a like manner as the other to crack his solemn visage. “But I do fully plan on returning once I’ve completed my studies.”

“Right. I understand that. It’s…” His ears swiveled forward, then back, still flattened unhappily against his hair. “...Never mind. It’s not important.”

“No, go on.”

“It’s a trifling personal matter. Naught that you should worry about.”

“If you have something to say-”

That stony stoicism faded at last, relaxing into a smile, but it was as sad a smile as she had ever seen Keveh’to Epocan give anyone. “Matter of fact, I did. Once. But I see now that I’ve gone and waited too long,” he said cryptically. “Saying it now won’t change anything, and I wager I’d only feel worse if it did.”

“I’m sorry.” Aurelia worried at her lower lip with her teeth. “Truly, I am.”

His smile stretched into a grin. It made him look far more like the man she had come to know, the friend who teased and needled her and let her talk herself into momentous decisions. “You’ve no cause to be sorry for anything, my friend. The fault is mine own if there’s fault to be placed. I’m just being sentimental, I suppose. And, mayhap, a touch selfish.”

“Last call for luggage,” bellowed one of the porters. “If ye don’t bring it up now, ye’ll be carryin’ it yerselves! ‘Tis a long road ahead! Last call for luggage!”

Aurelia looked down at herself, then the bags at her feet. She only had the three pieces: her salvaged field kit, her herbal bag, and the pack which held in it those few trifling personal possessions she owned, including her mother’s memento mori. The field kit’s thick carbonweave strap perched on her shoulder, its tripartite-link imperial insignia long since removed by her own hand (Rhaya Wolndara’s angry reaction to the sight of it had been a valuable lesson in precaution) and its once-hefty weight now considerably lightened with even her most conservative usage of its contents over the years.

“Well,” he said after a moment, with transparently forced cheer, “let’s be about it. This lot won’t load itself.”

“The field kit needs to stay with me,” she drew out of reach when he stretched out a hand to take it from her shoulder. “Too many fragile items. Glass and the like. I’ll not trust it to the vagaries of a draught chocobo.”

“Fair enough.”

He picked up the others and made his way toward the waiting porter as the small collection of passengers began to mill towards the slatted steps. A Highlander man drowsed near the front of the carriage, hand wrapped loosely about a wine bottle and otherwise oblivious to the world. Aurelia double-checked the small leather belt she wore to make sure the letters Miounne and E-Sumi-Yan had penned were intact; a fine mess it would be if she were to lose them on the journey.

“Aurelia!”

The matronly Duskwight proprietress of the Carline Canopy stood head and shoulders over most of the passengers, and she quickly drew their attention as she made her way towards the small gathering with a swift and decisive stride. The Garlean offered her a small smile.

“Good morning to you, Miounne,” she said. “Come to see me off, have you?”

“I certainly have. I hope you weren’t planning on leaving us this morning without breaking your fast, girl,” was Miounne’s brisk reply, though she returned the smile as she held out her hands. In them, she carried a steaming tin cup and a small cloth-wrapped bundle. “I set aside one of my eel pies for you. ‘Tis a bit chilly as well, so I thought some hot tea might do you well on the road. Don’t worry about the cup; I have plenty of them.”

Touched by the gesture, Aurelia carefully took the cup and the wrapped pie, one in each hand.

“You didn’t have to do this-”

“I know,” Miounne said, a wry smirk tilting her lips. She wiped her hands on her apron. “But I did. The pie is heavy and should keep your belly full for a day or two. You’ll be changing carriages at the station in Highbridge to the Sunroad trail; you’ll want to get more supplies while you’re there-- make sure you have plenty of fresh water. There’s naught betwixt Drybone and the city save malms of scrubland, and this time of year the water holes will be too low to sustain travelers. I imagine the Calamity will have made the pickings slim for hunting as well.”

Aurelia nodded.

“Once you pass through the city gates, make your way to the Quicksand. That’s where the Ul’dahn Adventurers’ Guild operates; the proprietress’ name is Momodi Modi. I sent word ahead that she’s to expect your arrival within the sennight. All you need to do is give her your name and mine.”

“I... yes. I’ll do that.”

“And please, Aurelia dear- do take care in Ul’dah. It is a very different sort of city from ours. You are a kind woman with the best of intentions and there are those who would…” Miounne hesitated. “...Well. I’ll not fearmonger; I’ll wager you’ve heard enough of that. But I would ask the Twelve to watch over you nonetheless- if that’s all right, of course.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, she watched Keveh’to’s back, the way his officer’s overcoat pulled taut across the shoulders as he passed her bags to the porter, then cast her eyes down at Miounne’s parting gifts.

The sight brought back a memory of the last time she had left behind the familiar to set out for the unknown: fresh from her schooling, set to board a train at the capital’s processing center after she had enlisted in the imperial army. No one had accompanied her. Not to give her well wishes or helpful directions, or even to wave their farewells from the platform as the train departed for the tunnels bored beneath the mountains and into the heart of Castrum Pinnaculum. She had gone to the station alone, had left alone, and for the first few weeks of basic training, she had struggled alone.

But she was not alone now. Perhaps she no longer owned a marvel of a garden, or slept in a fine bed, or wore silks, but since coming to Eorzea she had made more friends in this past handful of years than in the previous decade. That had to count for something.

Aurelia stared into the steaming teacup and swallowed past the sudden constriction in her throat with considerable effort, then looked at the other woman with glassy blue eyes.

“I’d like that,” she said at last. “And thank you, Miounne. For everything.”

Before the woman could muster a response Aurelia had turned away and hurried towards the lowered carriage steps. She didn’t want to lose her nerve or shed tears, not today, and she still had one more farewell to give.

Keveh’to reached the steps first; he plucked the carbonweave strap from her shoulder and slung it over his own the moment she drew near. “Let me pass that up to you once you’re seated,” he said. “You can’t carry both your breakfast and this great bloody thing onto the carriage.”

She was the last to board. The wooden stair was showing its age and it creaked even under Aurelia’s slight weight as she made her way onto the covered deck. The platinum-headed Elezen twins she had seen earlier sat in the back near the cargo across from the last empty space: the one in blue was wholly absorbed in perusing a tome while the one in red dozed upon their companion’s shoulder. Neither of them paid her any mind as she set her teacup and snugly wrapped meal upon the open seat. Nor did any of the others, for that matter.

Mayhap this part was not so very different from that long ago train ride after all.

Aurelia chuckled aloud, though the sound lacked humor, and turned towards the other end of the carriage at the sound of swift footsteps. Keveh’to had come up behind her to deliver her remaining bag. The half-empty imperial field kit, still large and cumbersome for all it lacked much of the weight it once bore, smacked with a quiet dull thud against his thigh with each step. His expression was unreadable as he set it down at her feet.

“Suppose Mother Miounne already said it so I don’t need to,” he said, “but I will, anyroad. Take care of yourself and be careful who you trust. And if there is trouble and you need to leave for any reason, you always have a home here.”

“Keveh’to-” Before she could finish what she had meant to say his arms had wrapped about her shoulders in a heavy embrace, tail wound around her calf.

“Write to us once in a while, will you?” he muttered in her ear. “Just… just so we know you’re doing alright. Even if it’s something about your alchemy that I- I mean, we don’t understand.”

“Or care about,” Aurelia said wryly. She knew full well that Keveh’to was not asking her to write to Miounne. Her arms tightened about his shoulders in return, just for a brief moment. “...I’ll write as often as I can manage.”

“Good.”

The Miqo’te looked for a moment as though he wanted to say - or do - something more, but instead released her with all haste, tail flickering and ears swiveling with his discomfiture as he went. Aurelia said nothing further as she took a step backward and turned to the seat where her tea and morning meal awaited. It was easy enough to spare him his blushes, to pretend that her focus lay upon how best she might secure her bag under the seat. Once that was done she picked up the teacup and took a thoughtful sip, placing Miounne's eel pie upon her lap. She was too full of nerves to be terribly hungry but that would no doubt change within a bell or two.

His retreat down the narrow steps came just in time for the porter to lift and shutter the low-slung door behind him with a brisk snap. Aurelia felt her eyes prickle and burn but her composure held fast, and when she turned about and lifted her free hand to wave at her friend it was with a bright smile on her face.

Her minder - her friend, now - gave only a half-second’s hesitation before he waved back. At his side, Miounne too lifted her hand in silent farewell.

“Quarrymill!” the driver shouted. “Next stop, Quarrymill!”

Following upon the heels of the teamster’s call came the draught chocobos’ twin kwehs. She braced herself and her teacup a moment before she felt the sharp initial jolt of the carriage’s forward motion. Within seconds it smoothed into a sedate and seamless drift as the wind aether filled the balloons overhead, and they were off down the half-paved cobbles that led to the Blue Badger gate. In moments they would pass out of the city and turn onto the southbound road.

For the final time, Aurelia allowed herself a glance over her shoulder, back over the lip of the carriage and in the direction of the Carline Canopy. Keveh’to, it seemed, had chosen to remain outside the chocobo paddock. He stood stiff and unmoving save for the tail that lashed erratically at the air, his hands shoved into his deep pockets and his mouth turned in a downward bow she could see even from here.

His words drifted across her mind like errant clouds.

I’ve waited too long. Saying it now won’t change anything.

She kept her gaze upon the dwindling figure until the carriage had rounded the bend and that splash of bright yellow was no longer visible through the foliage.

~*~

Watching the commotion below from his perch upon a flight of corrugated metal steps, Nero tol Scaeva knew what was coming next. The cohort’s work had come to a screeching halt and several of the engineers had gathered about to investigate the rear quarter panel of the left leg. None of them seemed to know what orders they were to give or be given if any, and the resulting confusion left them milling aimlessly about like ants puzzling at a stray piece of food someone had dropped on the floor.

Thus it fell to him to restore order, as much as he would rather not: his presence alone would subject him to fearful kowtowing and stammered excuses. He knew he could be a hard man when the situation called for it, but he liked to think he was also a fair one, and even the greenest of the signal corps had no reason to fear his wrath so long as they could explain themselves to his satisfaction. Still, he was a Garlean, and the provincial fear of his countrymen was deeply ingrained into the army's conscripts -- ingrained when it was not beaten.

No help for it, I suppose.

He made his way beneath the iron scaffolding that surrounded the warmachina's exoskeleton at a brisk pace. The clatter of his sollerets upon the metal tiling set an easy and unhurried rhythm as he crossed the open floor until his stride slowed to a full stop mere fulms away. The engineers’ chatter, quiet but idle, dwindled into an anxious silence.

One of the engineers, a tiny Auri woman with her lavender-tinted hair bound in regulation braids, went visibly pale at the sight of his approach but to her credit did not make a show of flinching from him, and even had sufficient courage to offer up a salute as was proper. He folded his arms over his chest and peered down at her through the visor of his helm. They stood close enough that he could see how her forearm - still stiffly crossed over her chest - trembled at his proximity.

“Architectus,” he said very calmly.

“Y-yes, my lord?”

“As you were,” she dropped her salute, but her back remained ramrod straight and the tension did not leave her shoulders. He continued as if he had failed to notice, “I mark a number of you performing a very serious study of this warmachina’s leg joint, in lieu of performing your assigned tasks.”

Her swallow was audible even through his helm’s transceiver, but her stone-faced stare did not waver. “Apologies, my lord. There is-”

“I believe I have stated on multiple occasions that we have a schedule to keep, and not a terribly lenient one at that. Perhaps the cohort is in need of a reminder.”

“My lord, please,” the woman blurted, then winced almost immediately, “I am sorry to interrupt. But you see, there’s a problem.”

Shite and swiving hellsfire, if I never hear ‘there’s a problem’ again in my lifetime it will be too soon. Still, unlike sas Junius it was not in Nero’s nature to vent his spleen upon hapless messengers. He released a long-suffering sigh instead - only somewhat dramatized for her benefit - and watched those large ocean-blue eyes break their impasse at the sound. They flickered nervously up at his face, then down, then back out to stare at that fixed point past his waistline.

“Of course there is,” he said aloud.

“My lord?”

His own fault, he surmised, for expecting any other response to his bit of japery. “Never mind. Continue.”

“Yes, my lord. We ran the initial tests using the Vanguard H-1’s specifications, as dictated. The operating system ran as expected upon startup. But when we tried to proceed with full activation... well, we tried to switch over from the H-1 but it caused a power surge and nearly started a fire- as you see here. As it is we’re dead in the water. She won’t power on at all now.”

“I assume our engineering teams ran down their checklists for aught that might have compromised structural integrity, prior to attempting the activation.”

“Just so, my lord. Circuitry, fuel lines, motherboards-- it was all green.” She bit her lip. “If… perhaps we might speak to the quartermaster and requisition another part. Or perhaps a larger-”

“The next step up would be the specs for a low-velocity assault craft,” Nero interrupted dryly. “While I share your readiness to explore all possible options, I think it unwise to blindly run through every single spare part at our disposal hoping for a result. Aside from the obvious risks, ‘tis inefficient. We do not have a great deal of time to make what amounts to an educated guess.”

“I- yes,” she stammered. “I apologize, my lord, I should have thought-”

He waved an impatient hand. She fell silent as instantly as if he had slammed a door shut in her face. “Who is your immediate superior?”

“Valens nan Varro, my lord.”

“Kindly inform him that the activation test has been delayed pending an internal review. We will reschedule after I have spoken with the legatus.”

Now she was staring at her feet, her face pale once again. “...He will be sorely displeased if he discovers we have failed you, my lord. Sorely.”

“Ah, yes. A terrible burden indeed, the primus architectus' personal inconvenience. Unfortunately, we shall all have to bear it,” Nero said briskly. He did not care to argue the matter with a subordinate; such behavior would undermine his authority, and the engineers present were well aware that his word was the final say.

“But-”

“If nan Varro is displeased with the decision and wishes to contest it, then he may take his grievance up with me directly.”

Her shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly, not in relief but defeat. Beneath his helm, Nero raised his brows at the response but said nothing further.

“Yes, my lord.”

“And I expect an incident report on my desk by 0700 tomorrow morning. Posthaste.”

Her answering salute was stiff and formal, expression as stony and unyielding as a statue’s. Whatever emotion he had spied was carefully hidden now; the wall was back in place. Curious. Irrelevant. He had neither the time nor the wherewithal to waste in wondering after it.

Nero passed her without another word, her fellows hastening to clear a path for him as he approached the enormous back leg. There were scorch marks on the edges of the chassis panel, he noted; exposed copper fibers trailed from the opened casing like wilted ivy creepers. The ends were blackened and a thin line of smoke still curled in slender lines; the smell was acrid and familiar and the castrum's ventilation system would disperse it within a half hour.

One hand hovered just over the scorched plate as he studied the sight, with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

Retrofitting Allagan technology was not a precise art, as much as it pained Nero to admit it. Some artifacts worked so readily with Garlean magitek that the process was utterly seamless, as if it had been meant for their hands. Others were far more complex, and thus more time-intensive. The Ultima Weapon had been his longest project to date, and the tribunus laticlavius had to remind himself that the machina had been experimental even to the greatest scientists of its age: a groundbreaking anti-eikon countermeasure that partnered the arcane with the mundane. A seamless blending of aetherology and engineering, borne of man’s ingenuity.

Blended---

Ah.

“My lord?” a timid voice echoed at his back. The engineers were watching him; they had gathered a respectful six fulms away.

“...This is not a public spectacle,” his hand fell away from the plating. “See to this mess. I want the machina checked from top to bottom for aught that could possibly cause further delays. Exposed joints, chassis warping, blown fuses, exposed wires, all of it.”

"My lord, the test-" "Is no longer your priority," his impatience filtered through as a short, barked command. "Attend to your tasks. I will not ask you twice." The gathered cluster of engineers sketched their salutes and scattered like mice, scrambling to obey before any of them could experience the implied consequences for perceived insubordination. Nero watched them in silence for a few beats before taking his leave. He made his way back along the catwalk and up several flights of steps, to one of the administrative bays that oversaw the hangar. Once he was certain of his privacy, he removed his helm with a soft and relieved sigh. It was a mere press of a button after that to open the transceiver link and set it to a specific frequency. Static hissed in the confines of the empty office for one second, two, before the link became stable and there was smooth air and Gaius van Baelsar's gruff baritone:

“State your business.”

“Lord Gaius. Have I interrupted something?”

“Yes, but naught of particular importance. For a small blessing.” The legatus of the XIVth Imperial Legion sounded vaguely put out, but not irate. An encouraging sign which meant he was like to be at least somewhat amenable to the discussion Nero wished to have. “I take it you have something you wished to discuss.”

“I do. The activation test failed. I should have an incident report within the next 24 hours that will list the particulars.”

“Again?”

“Indeed. This is why,” Nero took a deep breath, “I should like to request that the Weapon and all hands involved in the project be transferred to the research facility in Agelyss Wyse.” “The Vylbrand coast? That is not exactly shouting distance from Gyr Abania. And there are certain dangers present which make your proposition quite risky.” Refusal to take risks will not garner the results we seek. "With all due respect, my lord, you did not assign me this project with any fond hopes that I would remain complacent,” he could almost feel his commanding officer bristling at his bluntness, “and these failed tests have made it abundantly clear that - as you will recall that I posited, against protest from certain quarters - ceruleum combustion alone will not be sufficient to bring the Weapon back online. Not at full capacity.”

“What do you propose?”

“I will get to that eventually, but first and foremost: I need data. Current data. Simulations and conjectures will only get us so far.” He glanced out the bay window at the massive machina, a dormant monster, each opened claw the size of a juggernaut. “The Weapon was designed to do far more than subdue eikons, and we have merely scratched the surface of its capabilities. But scratching is all we will manage if we remain here.”

Nero managed - only just - to keep the excitement out of his voice. The Black Wolf of Garlemald was a straightforward man, he knew from long years of experience: interested in results, not theories.

“I understand this, but you are also asking to upend our timetable for the sake of a hypothesis.”

“A hypothesis with its foundation in the methods the Allagans used to create and maintain Dalamud- as Lord van Darnus would attest, were he still with us. I think it a safe assumption that the Ultima Weapon operates upon a similar methodology.” Van Baelsar’s only response was a sigh of consternation. Nero continued, “And yes, it would move our overall timetable forward a few weeks. I admit it.”

“Nearly two months,” the legatus said sourly. “You understand that even if I agree to your proposal, it is not something that can be immediately enacted.”

“I would not expect to presume thus, my lord, of course.” There was bureaucracy involved, and the logistics of moving entire teams between castra -- not to mention the machina itself. Well, Solus zos Galvus had not built the Empire in a day, either. “I realize there are protocols to follow. I only ask for consideration-”

“And due consideration will be given, tribunus- in due time. At the very least I must needs contact the Occidens praefectus and discuss the matter. We will speak on this anon.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He could afford the wait. In the meantime, there was much yet to be done- and new plans to be made. When the legatus called for him again, as he inevitably would, Nero would be prepared to explain what must be done ere their goals could be met. Allag’s mighty Weapon would awaken from its slumber by his hand, and he would receive his fair due at last. There was no one and nothing now to keep him from reaching forth to take what was rightfully his.

This victory shall be mine and mine alone, he thought. And you, old friend, will be as chaff in the wind. Discarded and forgotten.

Beneath his twin veils of tempered glass and chromed crimson steel, Nero tol Scaeva began to smile.

[thoseofgreatambition]

GOOD POINTS PT 2. || LAID BARE

pt 1 

desc: you wound up as fred’s healer somehow. after years of squabbling and bullying each other. for some reason, the poor bastard began coming to you for comfort. well, you did know the reason after all. watching your twin die would send anyone to do odd things, wouldn’t it? mundane deaths were always the most painful.

a/n: hope y’all like this! i haven’t seen a george dies! au before and i thought it’d be fun to write. if you love me let me gooooooooooooo leave feedback!

warnings: death, sickness, angst, no proofreading

taglist: @harrysweasleys @geeksareunique @insearchofnewdreams @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @lumos-barnes @thatfuckingliardavidtennant @slytherinqween @xinyourdreamsx @skiving-snackboxess @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens @woakiees @black-widow-fangirl @theheirofnightandday @summerstardust @whysoseriouspadfoot @chocok22 @myhopesareanchoredinyou @siriusblackisme @illusivedaydreamer @zeeneee @writingwitchly @wolfpotter12 @obsessedwithrandomthings @carolinesbookworld @shadowsinger11 @pit-and-the-pen @summer-writes @peachesandpinks @ickle-ronniekins @gweaslvy @alpinewinchester @parker-potters @deafgirltingz @utahjoerdis @highly-acidic @feffffffy @stuckindilemma @jenniweaslee @ohcrap11 @melodymari @teenamericana @slytherinshadowhunterraven @vidhi01 @malfoysweasley @coolepowersthings @lespaceboi @tinybuttercups @peachesandpinks 

You frowned at the man at your doorstep. The way he leant on his cane. The absolute look of distaste on his face as he stared at you. The bundle in his free hand that appeared to hold food.

“If you keep coming to my house I can’t be your healer, Weasley.”

He’d never once directed a proper smile your way. A happy one. One that made you feel like he was glad to see you. Instead the halfhearted grin on his face reminded you of your years in Hogwarts, where he was angry at you and joyful of besting you at the same time.

“Would you really kick out the sick man whose best friend and brother died?”

“Of course. I’m not losing my job because you’re sad, Fred.”

The look of pain on his face was enough to soften your heart. Not to mention the fact that he’d missed your last check-in.

Or the white knuckled grip on his cane. The wobble in his knees.

You stepped aside to allow him entry into your home. “Come in, this is a check up then. Hope you brought some money with you. I’ve got to make a living somehow.”

“Course I did. Never knew you one to be charitable after all.”

You rolled your eyes before closing the door. There were no qualms in your soul about being rude to Fred.

Aside from the whole ‘do no harm’, business.

“Shut up, sit down, and take off your shirt.”

The good thing about Fred Weasley, though you rarely thought of any, was that he was a pretty cooperative patient. 

From a purely objective standpoint, you supposed he was nice to look at as well. “Why are you here Weasley?” you strode over and began to gently prod at his back to check on the various lumps and bruises you’d seen a few weeks back. “How’s the physical therapy going?” 

The truth was that the flat was too quiet. The burrow was too quiet. Before there had always been noise. George snoring. George tinkering. George chiding him like their mother. George reading on the little chair in their old room. 

It was gone. It was gone and there was no one to talk about it. Mum got sad. Dad kept giving him that heartbreaking look. Fred was painfully aware of how loved he was. 

But something made him feel as if he couldn’t speak around them. 

There was no expectations with you though. No emotional attachments. There was something freeing about speaking to someone you’d hated growing up. As long as you were ready for retorts that could hurt as much as the barbs you sent. 

“It’s hard to talk to my family. Easier to talk to you.” He hissed as you prodded at an especially sensitive spot. “It’s going good. I went on a walk yesterday around the alley. My back and knees hurt a lot, but I didn’t get too winded.” 

“Surprised you want to talk to the woman who made you cry no less than five times when we were younger.” 

Fred frowned, “Thought you wanted to move past that.” 

You only shrugged. “Pants off. Let me check your knees. What kind of stretches have you been doing?” 

“Don’t you buy someone dinner first?”

“Don’t reckon I’d want to fuck you right now, since you can’t hardly move without pain. That’s not something I’m into.” 

With a smirk, you noticed his chest flush red as he got out of his trousers, just to sit back down at your kitchen table in his boxers. Your fingers felt far too warm on his knees as you gently prodded at them. 

“George would like you, you know.” 

You quirked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Thought he’d hate me. I was awful rude to the poor guy.” 

What an awful ending for a good man. Even if you didn’t like him. Not a hero’s ending. A smashed foot while cleaning up from the battle. Septic shock. Dead in less than three days. 

Fred hadn’t even been released from the hospital. 

Even you’d heard all the Weasley’s joking about the odds of them all making it out alive. 

“You’re a good healer. He’d have liked you.” 

You frowned, as you heard Fred’s chest shudder. From your view on your knees, softly checking his legs you could see his painful grip on the chair. The cuticles on his hands picked raw. The bandages on his right hand that made you wonder what he’d punched to hurt himself. 

Fred was crying. 

You weren’t sure how to help him. 

Standing up you looked down at him with a frown, gently cupping his cheek. Fred never would have thought of you as gentle, when you were younger. 

“Why me?” you kept your voice soft, as if you were afraid of making him cry more. 

“George always said I was too mean to you. And you were to me.” He wiped his eyes with his bandaged hand and moved from your touch. “Felt right to come here.” 

With a flick of your wand, you summoned your first aid kit, and took his hand. You sat down beside him at the table and began to work on the damaged fingers. “It’d be awful stupid of you to fuck up your wand hand, Fred. I’ll curse it off of you if I think you’ll just ruin it.” 

If you didn’t know better, and only listened to Fred’s voice you would have thought he was smiling at you. 

“It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.” 

There was another quip on your tongue, another sharp remark until you looked up and saw him giving you a teary smile. A proper one. One with loads of sharp remarks behind it. Little barbs that you could throw back at him full speed. 

But a proper one nonetheless. One you’d never seen him show you before. 

It only made you frown more. 

“Fred. We can be friends, but it has to end at that. I’m your healer.” 

The smile was gone like that, as if he felt violated that you’d read him so deep down into his soul. “Reckon I already knew that. You just said you wouldn’t shag me.” 

Once again you felt comfortable. A friendly Fred wasn’t one you knew how to deal with. “It’s called standards Weasley. Can’t just put out for everyone. I’d be too tired for my morning shifts.” 

Another first. You heard him laugh. 

How strange. You knew how to patch him up, but lacked any common sense when it came to being friendly to him. 

You chewed on your lip as you straightened yourself up, peering at your finished work. “What’s in the bag you brought?” 

Like an afterthought, he grabbed it from the table and withdrew several small boxes loaded with pastries. “Mum wanted to thank you for healing me.” 

While the smell was amazing, you couldn’t help but look at Fred with suspicion. “What’d you do to these?” 

“Nothing.” 

He was smiling at you again. It made the hairs on your arm raise up. “Why?” 

“George told me to be nicer. I want to try.” 

You broke off a piece of a hand pie and sniffed it, ignoring the snicker from Fred. 

Something finally clicked. The reason that he’d come. 

“It’s been a year, hasn’t it?” 

Fred took a hand pie of his own, and nodded. A year since he last saw George breathing. Sweating and scared in the hospital bed next to his. A year since the screaming that didn’t seem to end for weeks and weeks. 

“Yeah.” Fred had stopped smiling for you. You doubted you would see it for the rest of the night. “A year since he’s died.” 

There was plenty you didn’t understand still. But things seemed to fall into place a bit more after that. 

“Stay the night then. And know I’ll knock you out if you punch any of my walls.” 

“So comforting.” 

“You’re almost completely naked in my kitchen Weasley, be grateful I’m not making any comments about that. 

“Fuck off, Y/N.” 

“You first.” 

[older-brother-kit]

Parental Differences

Hi everyone, I wrote a fic about Kit and his relationship with Jem that’s set during Forever Fallen. It’s about the different ways that Johnny Rook and Jem Carstairs care about Kit and handle the topic of his mother Rosemary. Jem is a loving dad, and he wants to make sure to remind Kit he cares about him whenever he can. You can find it here on AO3! I haven’t posted my writing in a long time, so please make sure to tell me what you think :)

Johnny Rook knew that his son was a curious boy. Kit was always eager to learn something new, and he paid attention to every little fact that Johnny told him about the shadow world. Kit was curious, but he also knew that his father was a criminal and there were some questions you just didn’t ask.

Well, Kit didn’t ask most of them. Sometimes, he couldn’t contain himself.

Johnny had been counting money he’d received from his most recent deal when he first heard Kit’s voice. “Dad?” Kit started, and Johnny looked towards his son. They were both sitting at the table Johnny sometimes used for business, and Kit had been practicing shuffling cards. The deck laid on the table, all gathered together in a neat little stack. “I was thinking about it, but don’t you think I’m old enough to know who my mom is now?”

The question shot a sharp pang down Johnny’s chest. It had been several years since he’d last seen Rosemary, several years since she had left him to try and keep Kit’s true identity a secret. It was a long time, but Johnny had never forgotten -could not forget- the love of his life. He could still remember the floral perfume she used to wear, the pitter-patter of her feet when they walked down the boardwalk in sandals, the way she’d smile every time he told her that he was sure it was going to rain. Johnny still loved her, but he knew that she would never come back to him. Rosemary didn’t want her son in danger.

“It doesn’t matter,” Johnny said, turning back to look at the money in his hand. “She was no one important.”

Kit sounded annoyed. “You say that every time, and I stop asking about her, but don’t you think I should know? There are so many questions I’ve always wanted to know the answers to but never asked. How did you meet her? Does she look like me? What was she like? Is she dead? What happened to her?”

Johnny couldn’t help the bitterness that arose. He grit his teeth as he watched Kit stand up and cross his arms, leaving his deck of cards on the table. “I told you it’s not important. It’s none of your business.”

“What do you mean it’s not my business?! She was my mom!”

“Oh, she was your mom?!” Johnny shot up from his chair, locking eyes with Kit. The money fell to the floor and lay there forgotten. “Well she was also-”

Despite his anger, he knew that telling Kit anything even resembling the truth would only endanger him --endanger the boy that Rosemary left to protect. He knew Kit wasn’t at fault for wanting to know about his mom, but there was a pesky little voice inside Johnny’s head that liked to remind him Kit was the reason Rosemary had left in the first place.  

Johnny thought he heard the door open in the background, but he ignored it. “I don’t remember.” he said, trying to calm down so he wouldn’t say something he’d regret.

“Bullshit,” Kit said, and Johnny didn’t even bother to reprimand him for cursing. “You’re lying. You always lie. You’ve lied a thousand times, to both your “customers” and to me, and you’ll lie a thousand more. Can’t you just tell the truth this one time?” Kit’s voice cracked, and Johnny ignored the desperation. Kit’s eyes seemed to be screaming. Please, they said. Please. 

Kit looked too much like Rosemary.

“Fine,” he spat out. If Kit wanted a story, he’d get a story. “You want to know the truth? I’ll tell you the truth. I met her when I was gambling in Vegas, where we slept together once and she became pregnant with you. She stuck around until the birth, left you with me, and I never saw her again.” Johnny could feel the anger and frustration he’d built up over the years coming out in the bitterness of his words, the sharpness of his lies, but he couldn’t stop. A voice called out his name, seeming to come from far away. “The truth is that the woman who gave birth to you was a Vegas showgirl who left the second she could because she couldn’t stand the sight of you!”

The world slowly came back into focus, and all Johnny saw was Kit. Kit, whose hands were in fists, shaking. His face was scrunched up in anger, but his eyes were suspiciously bright and Johnny could tell that he was trying not to cry. Johnny let out a long breath, and unclenched his hands while trying to release the tension in his shoulders. “Kit,” he tried, but Kit just turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

“Johnny Rook,” the voice from earlier called, and Johnny turned around to see Hypatia Vex. The warlock crossed her arms, and the hardness in her eyes was unmistakable. “I came here to ask about an object you’d had out front yesterday. I heard voices shouting, and the door was unlocked.”

Johnny tried not to feel embarrassed at what she’d seen, and ignored the sudden dryness of his mouth. “What are you willing to pay for it?”

Hypatia laughed a short, humorless laugh. “Of course you’d try to make a business deal after all that. You disgust me.”

He gave her a look. “Listen lady, you either want something or you don’t. My boy is none of your business.”

Hypatia raised an eyebrow, giving him a look back, and he had the feeling that she was inwardly cursing at him. “When you started yelling loud enough to be heard outside you made it my business. Now I want you to listen, and to listen good. I see a lot around here, and there isn’t much I don’t know. You might be one of the sleaziest mundanes I’ve ever met -if you even are a mundane- but that kid of yours is alright. More importantly, he’s ten years old.”

“I’m protecting him,” Johnny hissed, irritated at this warlock woman who acted as if she had any right to judge him and how he talked to his son. She knew nothing about the situation they were in. “He’ll get it when he’s older.”

“Telling your son that his mother was a showgirl who didn’t love him is not protecting him.” Hypatia shot back.

Johnny glared at her. “Do you want your object or not?” 

Hypatia pursed her lips, and looked at him for what felt like a long time. “If you go apologize to your son, and tell him you love him, we’ll do a deal.” 

“Fine,” Johnny said, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes and knock something over as he turned and went into the next room. He admitted he might have been too harsh, and said a little too much, but Kit was a tough kid. He would forget about it anyway, but it was probably for the best to check up on him. 

Johnny closed the door behind him, and saw Kit curled up in a chair by the one window. “Kit,” Johnny said, but Kit’s gaze stayed on the world outside. “Kit, you know I didn’t mean it.” He reached over to ruffle Kit’s hair in a rare act of affection, but Kit tilted his head away.

“Why did you say that then?” Kit asked, his voice steady but lacking emotion.

Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “I… I shouldn’t have said it, Kit. I was just frustrated, since I didn’t want to talk about it.” He sighed. “Things like this are complicated.” 

Kit shifted, and glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Is it true?” Kit asked, then cringed as if he’d regretted asking at all.

If Johnny were a more affectionate person, he would’ve hugged Kit, but he wasn’t so he didn’t. That side of him was reserved for Rosemary. He has her eyes, he thought, but it caused him to step back rather than get closer. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, Kit. Just don’t ask again.”

Kit made an expression Johnny couldn’t recognize, and the boy quickly went back to looking out the window. “Ok,” he said.

Johnny brushed non-existent dust off his pants before turning around and walking to the door. He remembered the money that he had left on the floor, and hoped that the warlock hadn’t tried to steal from him before he could pick it all up. “I have to go do a deal with Hypatia Vex, so stay here.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Kit asked, and Johnny blinked before giving his son a quick glance.

“And what is that?”

Kit sighed, and moved his head back towards the window. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “Never mind.”

“I’ll tell you when you can come back out.” Johnny told him before opening the door to leave. He thought about the money he’d left on the ground, and hoped the warlock woman hadn’t messed with it in any way.

“Fine.”

Johnny walked through the door and didn’t look back. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t something that Jem was concerned about at first.

Kit was a smart kid, and he was good at playing off his thoughts and feelings. Jem and Tessa had gotten him to open up more in the past year since he’d joined their family, and Jem was extremely grateful. He never asked what went down with the Blackthorns, and Kit never brought it up. Jem and Tessa had mentioned Ty Blackthorn briefly, once. Kit had flinched, and looked so unbearably sad that Jem didn’t have the heart to ever do it again. 

In addition to the Blackthorns, there was one thing Kit never seemed to talk about: Rosemary Herondale. 

Not that Jem hadn’t tried. In the beginning, Jem thought that Kit must be curious and just not had any opportunities to talk about her yet. Jem had brought her up at breakfast one morning, and for a while it had gone well. Kit talked about a lullaby he vaguely remembered, and hummed a bit while pretending not to be embarrassed. Jem had then asked what Johnny Rook had told Kit about Rosemary, and Kit had shut down. The smile on his face disappeared as quickly as it came. Jem had been trying to figure out the best way of asking what he said wrong when Tessa had come back from the market, and the conversation topic was quickly changed.

Since then, both Jem and Tessa had tried to bring Rosemary up, only to have Kit look pained or like he wanted to leave. He and Tessa had discussed it, and they decided that if Kit didn’t want to talk about his mom then they wouldn’t push. Instead, they’d let Kit come to them once he felt comfortable enough. 

It was a typical afternoon at Cirenworth when something finally changed. Jem just came back from getting groceries, and they were having a simple lunch as a family. Mina sat with Tessa, who had finished her own lunch and was enjoying watching everyone else eat. Family, Jem thought, and couldn’t help but smile. My family. It wasn’t too long ago when Jem thought that he’d never get to have a life like this. 

Kit laughed at something Tessa said, then nearly choked on the bagel he’d been eating. Tessa patted his back with one hand while holding her sandwich with the other, and Kit took a sip of his soda before holding his bagel out in front of him. “This bagel tried to kill me,” Kit announced, making a show of glancing suspiciously at it.

Tessa gave him a fond look. “Maybe it was trying to warn you about talking and eating at the same time.” 

“Maybe,” Kit said, shaking the bagel then squinting at it, as if it were under interrogation. “We’ll see.”

Mina smiled widely at this, and Jem felt like the luckiest man in the world. His beautiful daughter was having fun, and the love of his life was smiling and joking around with their precious s --with Kit. Kit, who came into their lives like a blessing, and who Jem loved more with every passing day. Jem caught Tessa’s eye from across the table, and her eyes softened as she reached down to hold Mina’s hand. Jem couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the table to kiss Mina on the cheek. She was so beautiful, their daughter. 

Kit made another joke about his bagel before finishing it. Jem started a sandwich of his own, but couldn’t help staring at his family. He was feeling particularly sentimental today. 

He and Kit made eye contact, and Jem smiled at him. It seemed he couldn’t stop smiling today. Kit raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

After over a century of having his emotions and feelings dulled, Jem wasn’t in the habit of hiding his affection. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just so incredibly happy to know and love both of you.”

Mina giggled as if on cue. Jem turned away to look at her, nearly missing Kit’s shocked expression. Jem lightly tapped Mina on the nose before sinking back into his chair. “Including you of course, Mina mine.”

Jem glanced at Tessa, who was smiling so sweetly at him that he fell in love all over again. Her eyes flickered to Kit, and Jem looked over as well. Kit’s face had some fading redness, but it was his eyes that held Jem’s attention. Kit looked unsure, like he was trying to make sense of something confusing. He glanced at Jem for a minute, mouth closed tightly shut, before he hesitantly opened it and took a breath.

“I don’t get how you can say things like that,” Kit finally said, and he sounded so relieved once he said it that Jem wondered how long Kit had wanted to ask him that. 

Kit’s fingers lightly tapped against the table, and he shifted in his seat. Despite his nerves, Kit refused to break eye contact. Jem admired him for it. 

“It’s the truth,” Jem told him gently. “And there’s nothing wrong showing affection to those you care about.”

Kit frowned and moved his gaze to the table. “My dad wasn’t like that.”

Jem knew that it was rare for Kit to bring up Johnny Rook, aside from the occasional comment about something he’d taught him, and he and Tessa shared a look. They were both happy about Kit opening up more, as he’d been doing since Jem had agreed to train him. Whenever Kit brought up something from the past, they both knew to give him time to get his thoughts together. 

“I’m sure he loved you,” Jem couldn’t help but say, remembering what Kit had said the last time he talked about how he felt about his father. 

Kit scoffed at that. “Yeah, right. Once, when I was ten…” Kit trailed off, and clenched a napkin that was on the table. Jem waited patiently. “We got into an argument once, about my mom.”

Jem tried not to let his surprise show, lest Kit change his mind about talking to them. He and Tessa had gradually noticed that Kit didn’t like to talk about Rosemary, but they didn’t know why. Jem hadn’t expected Kit to be the one to bring her up.

Mina chose that moment to start crying. Before Kit or Jem could say anything, Tessa swept Mina up in her arms and got up to leave the room. “Mina-” Jem started, but Tessa shook her head. 

“She just needs her nap,” she said, then paused by Kit on her way out. “I’ll make sure to listen to your story when I get back.” Tessa ruffled his hair, and then both she and Mina were gone.

“I’d like to hear your story,” Jem said, hopefully before Kit regretted speaking up in the first place.

“Of course you do,” Kit replied, smiling although his heart wasn’t in it. “My stories are always fantastic! I’m a great storyteller.”

“You are,” Jem agreed good-naturedly, and tried not to laugh at the look Kit gave him. 

“Anyway,” Kit started, clearing his throat. “When I was ten, my dad and I got into an argument about who my mom was. I wanted to know her name, how they met, what happened to her..” Kit trailed off again, staring at the wall with a faraway look in his eyes.

Jem wondered what had happened, that Kit had been so curious but now always tried to avoid the topic. 

“I wanted to know everything,” Kit whispered. “Her favorite color, her relationship with her parents, whether she liked the movies as much as I did or not. When I was little I used to daydream about her coming to get me, and the three of us would live in a cozy house with a garden big enough for the family dog. I would go to school and make lots of friends, and she and my dad would have actual jobs that weren’t illegal. She would cook, and we’d talk while eating dinner together every night.” Kit swallowed, and Jem didn’t comment on the way his voice cracked. “I imagined that we would be together, and happy. I think that was the most unrealistic part.”

Kit took a minute to collect himself, and Jem’s mind went back to when his parabatai was still alive and believed he was cursed. Jem had never known the reason until afterwards, but he’d seen Will purposely push away everyone that got close. Jem had watched as the other half of his soul had suffered, unable to help but wishing with all his might that whatever was hurting him would cease. Jem had felt powerless, then. This time, Jem would do all that he could for Kit. As Kit opened his mouth once more, Jem thought about Herondales and their tendency to suffer in silence. 

“So when I was ten I asked my dad about my mom one too many times I guess, and we got into a fight. I was so mad that he refused to talk about her and finally demanded answers, but he became annoyed that I wouldn’t let it go. He told me -ha. He told me that she was a Vegas showgirl, some woman from a one-night stand that dropped me off the second I was born because she didn’t want…” Kit laughed bitterly, and his gaze stayed focused on the wall ahead of him. “Well, you get the picture.”

There was another pause and Jem opened his mouth to speak, but Kit beat him to it. 

“And you know what? Sure, it sucked to hear that, but I’m not even upset over it anymore. Who knows, maybe he thought it was the best way to get me to stop looking into her, in case I found out the truth and put myself in danger.” Kit seemed fired up now, and took a breath before continuing. “A warlock came in and I stormed out, but I heard them talking about me and decided to eavesdrop.

“She scolded him --she actually scolded him, and told him that he should apologize and make sure to tell me that he loved me. That she wouldn’t do a deal unless he’d do it. And you-” Kit’s head swerved towards Jem, and Jem could see the angry tears forming on Kit’s face. Jem felt like tearing up, himself. “You remember what I said, about how maybe he didn’t love me at all?”

Jem could only nod. 

Kit was seething now, and his eyes hardened while the tears fell. “Well he went into that room and he did neither. He didn’t apologize, he didn’t say I love you, he just --he just said that he didn’t mean it and that it was complicated. Then he walked out. My own father couldn’t even bring himself to tell me he loved me, but I’m supposed to believe some woman who barely knew me cared about me enough to die trying to protect me?! That’s crazy. That’s crazy!”

“Kit.” Jem called out, reaching for the boy who looked to be on the edge of hysteria. Kit was trembling, and Jem put a hand over Kit’s shaking ones. Kit reached up to try to wipe the tears off his face, but Jem stopped him. 

“It’s okay,” he said gently, his grip firm but careful. “It’s okay to cry, to show emotion. I love you, Kit. I’m here, and I’m listening to what you have to say. Tessa and I, we both care about you so very much.”

Kit held onto Jem’s hand like a lifeline, and Jem took the time to sort out his emotions. He loved Kit, that was an indisputable fact. Tessa also loved Kit, and they both knew that Rosemary had loved her son more than anything. However, Jem never knew how to feel about Johnny Rook. Johnny had raised Kit for 15 years and that had to count for something, but Jem got the impression he wasn’t the most loving person.

Jem couldn’t understand how anybody wouldn’t love Kit. If Johnny Rook didn’t love his son, then there must have been something wrong with the man. Johnny must have loved Kit in his own way, this Jem knew. The only other option was impossible. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Kit hugging him, which was a pleasant and welcome surprise. Jem hugged back immediately, holding him tightly. Jem tried to tell Kit he cared about him as much as possible, to make up for the lack of it growing up. He hoped one day Kit would truly believe it. 

Kit pulled back, and scrunched up his face before wiping at it. He then hesitantly looked at Jem. “Did he really love me? Like, you and Tessa aren’t just making it up to make me feel better? Because that would be kind of a jerk move.”

“She did,” a voice promised, and both Kit and Jem turned to see Tessa standing by the doorway. She was smiling, despite her watery eyes. Jem could tell by the look on Kit’s face that he was trying to figure out how long Tessa had been standing there. Tessa’s eyes didn’t waver from Kit’s, and Jem knew she must have been there for a while. 

“You barely knew her,” Kit pointed out, his voice hoarse. 

Tessa quietly walked over to Kit and put a hand on his shoulder. “I did,” she said, her face earnest. “When I change into someone, a part of themselves is shared with me. Some of their memories, and some of their thoughts and feelings. The day you were born was the happiest day of her life. When “mama” was your first word, she nearly cried out of joy. Leaving to ensure your safety broke her heart, and she thought about you all the time while she was away. She’d often hum a lullaby that she used to sing to you, because it made her feel closer to you every time she did it.” 

Kit’s eyes were tearing up again, and Jem tightened his grip on the boy’s hand.

“When she died,” Tessa started carefully, only continuing when Kit showed no negative reaction. “All she could think about was you. She wanted to make sure you were safe. She loved you more than anything, Kit.”

With that, Tessa leaned down and wrapped her arms around Kit. Jem joined in soon after, Kit holding onto them both. Jem felt a rush of affection for his family, and thought about how lucky he was to have them here with him.

“You guys sure are huggers,” Kit mumbled into the hug, and Jem laughed. 

He wouldn’t want Kit any other way.

---

Thank you for reading, please tell me what you thought!

Tag list: @girlwhohatesstuff @zafirafox4636 @ghostjessesgirl @tessagraycarstairs @katie33333 @ineedadrinkorsleep @daisyherxndale @lily-chen-deserves-better @sarcasticmalecfan @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @anxiousbookenthusiast

[ti-bae-rius]

Thomastair prompt

(Requested by @christinaherondale)

From @666-megabytes‘s prompt list. Prompt = “Something happened and we have to hide together in a really small space!!!!! we make out for 10 minutes but don’t worry we said no homo at the end”

Set at the end of Cast Long Shadows during Matthew’s plan to explode the South Wing of the Academy. 

“Come on, Kit,” Thomas urged, tugging at his cousin’s sleeve, which was dotted with burns. Christopher’s clothes never lasted long amidst the boy’s scientific experimentations. Though Christopher’s parents – Thomas’s Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel – were patient enough, his sister Anna had since refused to lend Christopher any of her waistcoats. Thomas’s fingers clung to the worn material now, pulling his absent-minded cousin down the corridors. “Hurry!”

“Where are we going again?” Christopher asked, wrinkling his nose to stop his spectacles from slipping down. Anyone else would have spun to look at him incredulously and asked what planet Christopher had been on for the last hour as they carried out Matthew’s plan. Thomas did neither of those things and instead ushered Christopher down the Academy’s labyrinthine hallways with haste.

“The Dean will be suspicious if you and I are together. You go down to our room and I’ll go to the library,” Thomas instructed as they reached the top of the main staircase. He kept casting nervous looks over his shoulder back towards the South wing.

“Oh bother, I need to borrow a book,” Christopher said, and turned to Thomas. “I’ll swap you. I’ll go to the library and you to the room.”

“Fine, Kit, just go!” Thomas pressed, and Christopher set off down the stairs, clearly pleased with his bargaining skills. Thomas was about to start after him when he froze with a sudden realisation how incriminating it would look to see the two of them fleeing what was soon to be the site of an explosion. Instead, he loitered on the landing, waiting for enough time to pass as to be inconspicuous.

From below, Thomas heard running footsteps and pressed back into the shadows cast by the large grandfather clock near a door. They’d locked the door to the South wing so, unless someone was hellbent on getting into the disused wing, they’d have no risk of harm on their consciences. However, he heard someone throwing themselves relentlessly at the door and the old wood was starting to creak ominously. The person swore and Thomas’s chest squeezed with recognition.

“Alastair?” he said shyly and the Carstairs boy spun, scowling.

“Your stupid libertine friend, Fairchild, has moved all of my things to the South wing. Annoying bastard.” He gave the door another shove and it gave a worrying creak.

“You can’t go in there, it’s locked,” Thomas protested anxiously. It was only a matter of time now before the inevitable. Damn Matthew; he could never leave well enough alone. Thomas knew Alastair was beastly at times, but he didn’t deserve to be blown to smithereens.

“Not for long. Besides, who put you in charge, Lightwood?” Alastair sneered.

He threw his shoulder against the wood one last time and Thomas winced. One more and it would give. Panicked, he grabbed Alastair by the wrist and pulled him away into a nearby cupboard. He slammed the door and leaned back against the door, blocking in Alastair, who was looking down at the place where Thomas had grabbed his wrist, shell-shocked. Eventually, he snapped out of it and glared at Thomas.

“Move, pipsqueak.”

“You can’t go into the South wing. It’s about to –”

An almighty crash interrupted his sentence, shaking the floor beneath them. Dust from the crevices of the walls rained down on them like snow. A second rumble shook the floor and Alastair clutched Thomas’s arm, fingers digging in, to stop himself falling. A loud bang right outside the door made them both cry out, followed by glass smashing. Thomas winced, knowing exactly what that was. Then, in one last cosmic act of hatred, the witchlight bulb hanging overhead shook and fell, shattering between them and plunging them into darkness.

“—explode,” Thomas finished weakly.

 Alastair was sat against the door, thumping his head back against it in boredom. Thomas himself was anxious and lamenting the fact the cupboard in which they were stuck was too small for adequate pacing.

“I’m really sorry about your stuff,” Thomas said, for the eighth time.

Alastair finally rested his head back against the door and sighed. “Matthew Fairchild’s pathetic frivolities are neither your business nor your fault.”

“I swear I’ll replace all of your things. I swear it.” Thomas sank down on the floor before Alastair. “I never meant for you to get caught up in this. Matthew can be a prat, but he isn’t malicious. He’s just a bit of a fool.”

“You can’t,” Alastair said quietly and Thomas felt his eyebrows knit in confusion. As if he could pre-empt the question on Thomas’s lips, Alastair continued. “You can’t replace it all. My father bought me a mundane newspaper in the train station every time we left another place. They’ll have gone up like tinder in your stupid explosion.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas repeated. “How about a trade? I can give you something that means a lot to me as a guarantee I’ll find you the most interesting broadsheets London’s curios shops have to offer.”

“Why do you care so much?” Alastair replied. He didn’t sound angry, just genuinely curious. “All of your friends hate me. They clearly speak ill of me to you, yet you still trail me like a puppy. Fairchild must loathe it so why do you do it?”

Glad for the darkness, Thomas felt his face go spectacularly red.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, then flipped the question back on the other boy. “Why don’t you tell me to shove off if you annoy you so much?”

“You don’t annoy me,” Alastair said after a long beat of silence. “I just can’t help but feel like you want me to tell you things so you can report it back to your little gang for ammunition.”

“I make up songs in my head,” Thomas blurted. “It’s a secret. I’d never tell the boys. Usually I do it when I feel lonely or…or invisible.”

“How could you ever feel that way?” Alastair scoffed. “Your family is at the very forefront of the council in such an interconnected web it borders on the incestuous. Your friends are always there and like you just as you are—”

“All my friends have a distinct thing that made them…them. Christopher is the mad scientist, James is the bookish hero, Matthew is—”

“The bane of the Nephilim’s collective existence?” suggested Alastair.

“—charming and funny,” Thomas corrected. “I’m nothing. I’m nice, and that’s the most lukewarm thing you can be.”

“You’re honest,” Alastair pointed out and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Not nearly as honest as everyone thinks. Besides, I think I carry so many of everybody else’s secrets that it’s easy to ignore mine. That isn’t honest.”

“Do you have room for just a couple more secrets?”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded tightly.

He heard Alastair swallow in the silence of their dark holding cell, then he let out a shaky breath.

“My father never comes to collect me at the end of term, nor drop me off at the start. You must have noticed – Fairchild certainly has. And why is that? Because my father is a drunk who can hardly get out of bed before supper. It would be worse if he did show up, I think.”

“You’re ashamed of him?”

“I just…I’ve had to sacrifice everything, so my little sister didn’t have to deal with him.” Alastair put his head back against the cupboard door. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” promised Thomas. “So…what’s the other secret?”

“Come closer,” Alastair said and Thomas shuffled closer, resting back against the door beside the other boy. Alastair cupped a hand around his mouth and turned to whisper in Thomas’s ear. “This.”

Instead of keeping his mouth to Thomas’s ear, he dipped his chin and pressed a kiss against the boy’s cheek. Thomas startled but, instead of pulling back, found himself turning towards Alastair, lips meeting lips like a flame touching a wick. The burst of heat that bloomed between them was almost imperceptible – almost. Thomas was almost sad that his first kiss was with Alastair Carstairs; it wasn’t that he didn’t like the boy – in fact, it was the opposite. No girl he ever kissed would make his heart race like this, make him want to melt into their touch. This was his Icarus moment, Thomas sensed. This was as close to the sun as he could get before he was burnt, but he’d never feel this warm glow again safe on the ground.

Footsteps outside the door made them break apart, shattering the moment like a dropped champagne flute. Suddenly they were once again stuck in a dingy cupboard, waiting for someone to let them out. At once they were on their feet, banging on the door, shouting for the person outside to help.

“Hold tight, boys. We’ll get you out in no time,” the voice came.

Quietly, Alastair turned to Thomas. “You won���t tell anyone, will you?” he whispered, biting his lip nervously.

“Of course not,” Thomas replied, tugging shyly at his shirt cuffs.

The door creaked open finally and Alastair didn’t wait, just pushed past their rescuer, vaulted over the fallen grandfather clock that had blocked the door, and hurried off downstairs. Breathless, Thomas thanked the professor who’d freed them and set off to find Christopher with one more secret to keep. He didn’t mind. At least this secret left him with the feeling of walking on a spring-loaded floor.

Alastair Carstairs, Thomas thought dreamily. He really was an enigma.

[scandalousfemale]

Ch.2 The Safety Dance

Chinese!OC x Kelce

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zombies were meant for apocalyptic movies and TV shows where one could binge watch for a day and return to their mundane life. But something happened, a lab test went wrong and suddenly the outbreak started. This story takes place exactly three weeks after zombies slowly started to take over the planet.

Series master list

WC: 6,726

Warnings: Violence, mentions of familial death and murder, THIS IS A ZOMBIE APOCALYPTIC FIC, there are mentions of weapons, we’re looking at someone’s wounds here, fighting, fear, ptsd, trauma, greasy old men being gross, please be aware that you are responsible for the media that you consume

A/N: I want to thank every single person who supported me this far. If you’re reading this it means that you liked the first chapter and you’re back for more! That means more than I can ever tell you because I love writing this series so much. Of course, it does get a little bit hectic because there are so many characters to take care of so thank you for little notes along the way from @rafecameron​ and a million thanks to @millyelliot​ for being my BETA reader and holding my hand while I cry lol I hope you all enjoy getting to know my characters a little more.

Waking up in a tour bus bunk was what Kaili felt waking up in a coffin would be like. The space was small and dark, and if it wasn’t for the quiet chatter towards the front of the bus, she’d believe that this was her own personal hell. She’d barely remembered falling asleep the night before, she must’ve passed out halfway through the movie and someone carried her to the bunk. If only so she wouldn’t be disrupting the flow of the common area. 

Kaili made it a mission to learn about the characters in front of her today. She needed to know if she could trust them, even though a small part of her told her that she could. She pushed back the curtain to her bunk and slid out of the hole she had slept in only to find Kiara and Sarah on the seat next to the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes to adjust to the sunlight before giving them both a small smile and then indulging in caring for her hygiene that she hadn’t been able to do in weeks. 

“The boys have breakfast outside,” Sarah offered a sweet smile and Kaili couldn’t help but smile back. She nodded and exited the bus onto a RV campground. The people in the surroundings must be familiar with the area and faces because not one person looked out of place. She took in the rows of RVs around them, noting that privacy was a privilege that not a lot of them had, if there wasn’t a door next to yours then you were lucky. Maybe it was because no one wanted to park next to a bunch of kids or maybe it was the intimidation of trying to get out of a parking space next to the monstrosity that they called a bus but the few spaces next to them were empty. Of course, there could also be other reasons as to why the spots were empty but Kaili didn’t allow herself to dwell on the thought for too long, willing herself not to get sad about their current situation. 

It didn’t take long for her to spot everyone she was looking for. JJ was holding a map, huddled with Pope as an older gentleman stood next to them, speaking quietly and rushed as he pointed out spots on the paper in front of them. The man couldn’t have been any younger than forty, his disheveled salt and pepper hair and tired eyes did not compliment the wrinkled green shirt and khaki shorts he was wearing. Kaili didn’t notice that she was focused on making the guy out until someone cleared their throat in front of her. 

Rafe was cooking rice and beans in a pot over some fire, which made her wonder why they didn’t use the fully equipped kitchen they had indoors. He eyed Kaili as she stood by the door way of the bus trying to take in her environment. She stretched and it did not escape her that it was the first time in weeks that her joints didn’t creak and crack as she moved around. She finally moved from the doorway and sat down next to Topper on a lawn chair. 

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked though she was already sitting down next to him, giving him a small smile though he barely looked up from his radio. He must’ve been looking for something specific because he went right back to messing around with the dials, switching from song after song until he found the news he wanted.

She ate her breakfast, or lunch, in quiet. She didn’t say much to anyone else and neither did the boys say much to her. It was nice, she had to admit, to be able to eat and take her time or not have to worry about watching her back, though it doesn’t mean she stopped being aware of her surroundings. The storm clouds settled over the camp as she saw a man in the distance and if it were any other situation and she was with any of her friends, she’d tell them that that’s one of the sexiest men she’s ever seen.

She might’ve gone up and made a move had it not been for an apocalypse going on. Even if the guy’s shirt rode up just a little and she could see the muscle on his pelvic that creates the V…or even how his arms are flexed from carrying the plastic bags. Kaili licked her lips and as she helped herself to eye candy before quickly diverting her gaze when the man started walking towards her. Her cheeks immediately heated up when the man got close enough for her to recognize who he was. 

The smile on Kelce’s face, though small, proved that he definitely had seen her make eyes at him and if dying of embarrassment wasn’t such a shameful way to go in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, she’d have done it. 

“What do you have there?” Kaili inquired about the bags Kelce was holding, hoping to ignore any thought she’d just had for him.

“A couple of trades,” he replied, getting the hint but his smile was even wider now. “Since we’re headed back to the market tomorrow anyway, I felt like it was time to get some new things.”

“What do you mean?” Kaili tilted her head, not sure what he was talking about. 

“In the campgrounds, people trade goods, since money doesn’t really mean a lot to them right now. So, say I have a pancake mix with no stove, it’s useless, right? But you have a stove and you’re dying for pancakes but I’m not giving it to you unless you give something back. So, then the question arises, what’s it worth to you?”

Kaili raised her eyebrows at the man in front of her, really taking the time to drink him in. Almost like JJ, everything he says kind of has an edge to it. Even when he’s laughing or telling a joke, there’s a hint of either pain or anger that she can’t quite place. Of course, there’s the fact that he’s sexy but also that he looks, for lack of a better word, strong. His shoulders are wide and he holds them back like he knew he could take on anyone that comes his way but he also has scars running from his knuckles and disappearing into his long sleeve shirt. When her eyes met his hard brown eyes again, she could tell that he had just sized her up as well.

“Apparently a lot,” she tilted her head as he motioned to the bags he had placed next to Topper. 

“Not enough,” Topper interjected as he rummaged through the goods that Kelce had brought back. “We need food and weapons.” 

“We’re getting food tomorrow from that grocery store Wheezie pointed out,” Kelce brushed off his friend’s criticism. 

“And if it’s cleaned out by tomorrow? What then? We’ll be hungry until the next place we can find,” and though what Topper was saying did make a lot of sense, she could also see that Kelce brought back things that might be of necessity. He brought back clothes for layering, winter hats, and a bit of canned foods.

“I’ll go back in a couple of hours, a lot of people aren't awake yet. Talking about trading though, you might want to start setting up our spot. Maybe something good will come to us instead since you have such a problem with how I trade,” Kelce bit back. And as much as Kaili wouldn't mind watching two boys argue with each other, she’d much rather do anything else. So, she excused herself from the friendly fire and ducked back into the bus to rummage through her bag, there had to be something in there that she could trade. All she had was maybe a couple of days worth of spam, if only for a person, and extra knives. She also found four switchblades and of course, her extra change of clothes. There was also a mini sewing kit she refused to part with and the bags filled with medicine that she wouldn’t mind parting with some of her inventory.

As she separated what she was willing to trade and wanting to keep, a little girl had sat down on the seat next to her.

“Do you always carry those?” Wheezie pointed to the knives on her weapons belt now strapped around her biker shorts from last night.

Without breaking from her task of separating which medicine was necessary to them, she answered back with a simple, “yes.” Because since she found this belt and the knives with Wei, she hasn’t.

“Why?”

Now, that had made Kaili stop to look at the girl. Her glasses pushed back against her face as her curly hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head. Then she realized that some people weren’t exposed to the horrors of the world just yet. Maybe Wheezie was protected enough not to see a family member dismembered in front of her. How she wishes she could say the same.

“It’s dangerous out there.”

“But you don’t have to worry when you’re with us. Plus, Topper said the only people on the campgrounds are the living and breathing ones.”

Finishing up the bag she was willing to trade, she wrapped the handle around her wrist to make sure no one could pull them off, “Wheezie,” she said the girl’s name for the first time as she stood, “humans are the most dangerous of them all.” 

“How?” The younger girl asked, a flash of doubt already crossing her face.

“Because you know what zombies want. They want to kill you. With humans, you don’t know what they want. They will smile to your face and then have an ulterior motive.”

Wheezie took a pause to think about what had been said and right when Kaili thought the conversation was over, she had turned to leave the bus, Wheezie stopped her in her tracks.

“You don’t trust us, do you?” It was a heavy question that had no simple answer.

“I want to,” was the best way that Kaili could explain it. Then Wheezie nodded at her as Kaili left the bus. The cold wind hitting her legs first and causing goosebumps to appear all over her body. She hugged her arms around her body, thinking about going back inside and putting on her long pants and long sleeve again but honestly, she couldn’t be bothered. 

She hadn’t even made it past the floor mat that was being set up at the end of their bus yet when a voice called out to her to ask where she was going. 

“I want to see what I can trade,” she said as she looked at Kelce’s face and if she hadn’t known better, it would’ve looked like he was upset. But he couldn’t have been upset at her, she hadn’t done anything to cause that reaction. 

“I’ll come with you,” he said and Kaili would have protested if it looked like he was going to give her a choice.

After disappearing into the bus, Kelce came out a few minutes later holding a Letterman jacket with the name SMITH printed across the shoulders on the back and a small bag of his own.

“Wear this,” he pushed the jacket into her hands as he easily took the bag away from her so that she could stick her arms into the holes. And so she did. She mumbled a small thank you to him before grabbing onto her bag again and followed Kelce’s lead. 

It didn’t take long for Kaili to get a peek into Kelce’s plastic bag, it was all filled with hygiene products such as deodorant, dry shampoo, and razors. Which made a whole lot sense as to why the trio she met at the pharmacy started throwing everything they saw in their bags.

“Remember what I said,” Kelce all but whispered next to her, “you have to know what your product is worth and how much what you’re asking for is worth. Some people will ask you for more but you have to be smart about it.”

Reaching the first group of people that seemed to be trading, they had set up all of their products on the floor. Two guys with guns standing beside the blanket as if they’ll guard it with their lives and honestly, Kaili wouldn’t doubt that they would. Even if what they were selling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Just a couple of magazines, jerky’s, and individual bullets. She hadn’t noticed but somehow, as they walked around and bargained, she had stepped closer to Kelce. Or maybe he has stepped closer to her. There was just a level of security being next to him that clouded her judgement, that made her squeeze next to him when someone else tried to step into her bubble. Something that made her feel alright when his arm came around her to move her out of the way when a brute pushed his way through the crowd. 

Kelce was a natural at communicating with the traders. She was surprised to find him to be a people person because of how closed off he was in the bus but even now his eyes looked more distant than ever making her think that maybe he wasn’t really a natural, he was just trained very well. 

At one table, he traded in canned corn for beans and then whispered in her ear that beans were better because they are heavier so that they would stay full longer and she guessed that made sense in a bus full of growing boys. He’d also traded two razors, shaving cream, and a deodorant for one blanket. Causing Kaili to raise her eyebrows in question. 

“People, during a crisis, usually don’t think too far ahead. Maybe they don’t think they’d survive that long but all I know is that winter is coming very soon and we don’t have enough blankets for everyone to stay as warm as we need to be.”

As Kaili looked at Kelce there was an edge to his tone, “and you don’t trust that the bus would take you very far,” she concluded, saying the words he didn’t. 

His face gave a hint to smile and the playful gleam to his eyes made him all that much more attractive, “it’s big, hard to maneuver, no matter what Topper says. I also don’t miss how everyone else looks at it. These are just the early days, people aren’t so desperate yet but they will be and they’ll see our vehicle,” she didn’t miss how he didn’t say tour bus, “then it’s only a matter of when, not if, we’ll run into a group big and strong enough to take it from us.” He shrugged as if she should’ve already worked out the equation in her head. Maybe she was too busy enjoying the luxury of the shower and the bed to think twice about it but he was right and she hated that she wasn’t able to pick up on how people looked at that bus at the end of the camp. 

“Are you prepared? When that happens, I mean.”

Kelce smirked and spared a glance around them before he brought his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and lean in. To anyone else, it might look like he was about to kiss the nape of her neck but he stopped to whisper her a sweet secret instead, “I’m a great shot,” he leaned back with a wicked smile. She didn’t miss how his eyes flickered to her parted lips right before she averted her eyes and began walking to a new group of people who seemed a bit more rowdy than the rest. 

“Where’d you learn?” Kaili attempted to regain her breath, she didn’t need a distraction. Not now. Not when the world is crumbling.

They passed people huddled around radios, some listening to the president’s speech about how everyone was ‘all in this together’, it made her want to laugh but also cry at the same time. The people hidden away in mansions with gates and guards were definitely not fighting the same fight as the ones who were on the streets. Others were listening to the news about the widespread pandemic. Kaili didn’t stick around to listen but she caught a couple of sentences, talks of vaccines or having the whole city sprayed from the air were talked about being in the works.

“My father loved to hunt and he didn’t believe in doing anything we weren’t the best at,” Kelce's smooth voice broke through her line of thought and she welcomed it, “that’s how I learned.”

“So you’re telling me I’m standing next to the best shooter in wherever you came from,” she’d meant to tease but her tone came off a lot more impressed with him than she intended it to be.

All he did was nod once, never losing the smile.

“Lucky me.”

A group of guys that were causing a bit of a ruckus were trying to draw attention to their small tent as they pushed a couple of people out of their way to drop the heavy bags off of their shoulders with a thud. She could hear the metal clanking against each other and she knew exactly what they were before the men began to unzip the bags with a bright smile on their faces.

“Fuck,” she heard Kelce say below his breath next to her when the guys started pulling out guns and machetes one after another. She had wondered how many stores or maybe even homes they had raided to be able to accumulate their stockpile but that was a thought she pushed to the back of her mind when she saw a sniper with a stand and a machete that looked sharp enough to cut someone’s head off. She knew that she needed it. One of them would be a great service to the group if they were able to strap the sniper on top of the bus, it could help them with enemies, humans and zombies alike. As for the machete, it would be a better use for her because she wouldn’t have to get too close to her target and that was a privilege that her throwing knives did not allow. 

She was the first one to step in front of the men, “what are you willing to trade with?” was her question, not taking her eyes off of the weapons.

“Well, baby, what are you willing to offer?” one of the greasy men with handlebars mustache had stepped before his friends and asked her.

“I want the sniper and the machete with the black handle,” Kaili didn’t waste time as she got on her knees and started pulling some products out of her bag, “I have spam for days, a Swiss army knife, and pills. I have medicine for anything you think you need. Asthma, anemia, you name it and I got it.” 

The man didn’t waste time stepping in front of her kneeled figure and putting his hands on his hips, “you know what? I kind of like my little porcelain doll like this. How’s that for a trade?” the greasy man said as he looked over her shoulder and Kaili noticed that he wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to Kelce, as if asking him for permission to trade the weapons for her. Hearing Kelce chuckle behind her, disgusted, her lips curled about to give him a piece of her mind before the man was off of his feet and slamming onto the ground on his back. Kelce on top of him in an instant, his hand wrapping around the guy’s shirt while the other fist met the man’s cheek. 

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” Kelce’s jaw ticked as the man’s friends were now at their side but before they could even touch him, Kaili pulled two blades from her thighs, pointing the sharp instrument at their throats.

“Gentlemen, I don’t think this is a very nice way to conduct a business, don’t you agree? Now, before you get a tiny bit ahead about yourselves, I think that my offer was very generous. If you don’t believe so, that’s fine. We can walk away,” Kelce grunted behind her but she kept talking, “what do you say?”

The shorter man in front of her with red hair, freckles, and green eyes looked to the other one beside her, “Abby is asthmatic, we’ve been trying to find a pharmacy forever and you know we don’t even know what we’re looking for. The name’s all different and weird, man. I mean, I need it.” The other man seemed to agree so with great caution, Kaili looked them over again before sticking the knives back into her thigh band.

“I have salmeterol xinafoate, fluticasone propionate powder. I actually have a couple of those. I have a couple more other brands, I’m not really sure what Abby takes but they come with inhalers. Here,” Kaili gave them the bag which still also included the spam, not worrying herself with Kelce as he was still talking to the guy but at least they were off of the floor now. 

The green eyed man took the bag gratefully as his friend shooed away the crowd that had gathered around them. Telling the people that if they’re not going to trade then they were basically wasting their time because no one was fighting today.

Kelce hadn’t mentioned standing up for her the entire time that they had looked around for more supplies and she didn’t bring it up. Not even when he glared at the man in front of her when she wanted to trade one of her throwing knives for a power drill. Yes, it was completely useless to the man selling it but for her, it was the only way to attach the sniper to the top of the bus.

After a couple of rounds to some other families, they’d finally made it back to Topper packing back up.

“What the fuck?” he looked at them with wide eyes as he saw the new found weapons.

“Is this not what you asked for?” Kelce said, already defensive but he was quickly distracted when he saw what Topper and Kiara was putting away, “how’d you manage that?” he pointed to the soggy used-to-be-frozen pizza in Kiara’s hands and something that might have looked like it used to be ground meat, Kaili wasn’t sure.

--

Dinner wasn’t half as bad as she assumed it would be but, then again, she wasn’t one to be picky. Earlier, when Kiara was fixing dinner with JJ, Kiara had the help of Rafe to put up the sniper on the rooftop and she was quite proud of the purchase, if she did say so herself. Rafe was also kind enough to praise her a whole total of one time. She must’ve been getting through to him. 

“Hey,” Kelce nudged her with his leg as she shoved half a piece of kiwi in her mouth, courtesy of Sarah. She learned it’s best to just not ask anyone where they got anything and appreciate that they were willing to share it with her.

“If you teach me some of that first aid stuff, I’ll teach you how to shoot.”

“Wait,” Kiara squeezed her way into the spot in front of them, “teach me, too. I can teach you literally anything you need to know about cooking or mixing pre cooked food.”

“You guys know I’d teach you this without expecting anything in return, right?”

“Don’t,” Kelce advised, carelessly grabbing onto Kaili’s knee as he spoke, “don’t do anyone any favors without something in return. Including us.” 

Kaili kept her eyes on Kelce’s hand until he pulled away from her, her eyebrows arched in question.

“What Kelce means in ‘rich people mentality speak’ is that if we can offer you something in return, you should take it. Like his jacket,” Pope pointed out and though his words could have been taken as a snarky response, she didn’t take it like that. She also chose to ignore his latter statement.

“What I meant was what I said,” Kelce refuted.

“Well, what you said came off kind of gross,” Kiara sided with Pope as she rolled her eyes. 

“Good thing I wasn’t talking to you though, isn’t it?” Kelce’s voice stern but collected and Kaili could see it now. He didn’t have the air of a free spirited person the way that JJ, Pope, Kiara, and John B did. He was more put together in a way that he felt he always had to present himself. That brought her back to what Pope had just called him, rich. Of course, she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t seen it before. The way it was so easy for him to talk to strangers in such a charismatic way that it almost seemed practiced. Instilled. He was rich and that meant that his friends, on their own side of the firepit, Topper and Rafe, had to have been rich as well. Not like it mattered anymore, as Kelce said, money doesn’t get you much in the streets.

“Okay,” Kaili announced when Kiara made a move towards Kelce, “so I can teach you both, or all of you, first aid but I refuse to do it if it’s inflicted from one person to the other. So, stop getting at each other’s throats.” With a nod, Kiara had a triumphant smile as she plopped herself down beside Pope and JJ.

Feeling Kelce’s eyes still on her, she shrugged, “what?” but Kelce didn’t respond. He just shook his head at her, a small smirk on his lips.

Kaili was about to head inside to see how Sarah and John B were doing when the man that JJ and Pope were talking to earlier today came towards them with a map. The middle aged man looked like he was about either about to flee or pass out at any moment by the way that he was fidgeting and looking over his shoulder. Kaili definitely didn’t like that. A man who looked like he was running from another kind of demon. He wiped the back of his palm across his sweating forehead even if it was one of the colder nights that South Carolina has seen this past week. A part of her wanted to reach out to the man and tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about looking back as long as she was in front of him but another part, told her that he might’ve just brought trouble to her door step and she didn’t want to comfort that. 

Pope had motioned Kiara to get up and follow him inside of the bus, a small act that Kaili caught.

“I found the map,” the older man said, JJ immediately moving next to him as he laid the map close to the fire, the only thing illuminating any of them on this dark night. She’d found herself moving closer to what seemed like a torn up and taped map of the United States, red and blue markers decorated the paper with lines and x’s. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at though.

“The guys, the military, man. They’re just picking people up left and right and they’re separating the men and the woman and I can’t have that. I can’t lose my girls,” he was still pointing to the x’s on the map. Kaili cleared her throat as if for either of them to explain to her what was happening since both the man and JJ seemed lost in their own world. 

“Right,” JJ said as he looked to his friends and Kaili, “This is Mark,” JJ said without glancing back at the man, “he’d came up from Florida and he said that it’s a shit show down there. Bodies scattered on the street and then turning into fucking zombies. His stories are...something else, man. Apparently, Georgia is just taken over by the military now. They are snatching people up and no one really knows where they’re taking them, so I think it’s time we seriously think about leaving the east coast. He’s taking his family to Canada and they’re passing through New York to do it, he said it’s the safest way and I kind of believe him?” JJ ended his statement sounding like it’s a question. 

The blonde boy sat on his knees as he traced the map, showing the group which route would be the easiest but there was an uneasy feeling bubbling up inside Kaili. It’s impossible that Wei and her were wrong but then again, does this mean that they would’ve been doomed either way? Before panic could take over her a hand came to her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Are you okay?” Kelce asked her, eyes scanning her face as if he was waiting for any signs that she’d vomit her dinner on him but all she gave him was a shake of her head before she turned back to JJ who was still rambling about the roads.

“No,” she said as she stood, realizing that she’s declining both the men who were talking. All eyes turned to her and she took in their faces. Except for the man with the map, the boys surrounding her had such sweet baby faces and she will not watch another person die in front of her.

“I’m from Maryland, everyone there was basically told to go south because everything started in New York and though that might not be true, I can honestly tell you that Maryland is gone. There was nothing left there when W—, when my cousin and I ran.”

“You’re wrong,” Mark confidently said as he stood up himself, eyeing Kaili like she was the new threat, “nothing could be worse than the south and passing through New York is the easiest way to get to Montreal.” The conviction in his voice almost made her believe it, if she hadn’t seen the horrors of the states above them herself.

“Okay, so even if New York isn’t the epicenter, let’s say the news had lied, you’d have to actually get there alive and there’s a chance Canada will not let you in. Then what? You turn around and go back the way you came? The plan leaves you cornered and vulnerable. You need to think about getting gas in those states. States I’ve just told you aren’t safe.”

“You think I don’t know about getting gas? We have to stop for that anywhere that we go anyway,” the man insisted.

“Okay,” Topper tried to interject but Mark took a step forward. Kaili didn’t miss that he wasn’t the only one to do that. JJ is now standing, staring at the map in his hands. Topper is glaring at the space between Mark and Kaili.

“Listen,” Kaili took a breath before she continued, “I don’t have a say in what you guys do. I was only brought in to help your friend, I’m not dumb enough to think otherwise but I do know that we will go our separate ways if you want to go up north.” She declared. She took a pause to shake her head as the images of her parents clouded her mind, “I can’t go back there.” She softly whispered. 

“Then it’s settled,” Mark spoke, his speech hurried as he took the map back from JJ, “leave the girl before she gets you killed and take my advice. Go north,” he gave JJ a quick nod and made his way back to his family. 

The silence that he left behind would’ve made anyone else uncomfortable but not when she was lost in her head. She just wanted the flashbacks to stop. 

Topper gave a quick nod to the guys and walked back into the bus, along with Rafe, probably going to talk about the best way to leave her behind, she assumed. 

“How many?” JJ asked suddenly as he sat in front of her and Kelce was still beside her. Feeling a bit uncomfortable that she’s the last one standing, she reclaimed her seat.

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“How many people have you lost, or watched die, however you want to put it?” And the question squeezed her chest tightly. She didn’t want to think about it but it was all she could think about as she dug her nails into the part of her thighs that were exposed.

“Five, that I know,” she said with an exhale, “my parents first, they were...eating my aunt and uncle in law. Then I lost my little cousin three days ago. She was barely sixteen,” tears swarming her eyes as she squeezed her leg tighter. 

JJ nodded in understanding, “I lost my dad,” he said as if the memory doesn’t affect him but the strain in his voice gave him away, “he was an asshole but it still hurt. He’s actually the first zombie I saw. I thought he was high as fuck again when he came at me but then he didn’t stop. Even when I broke his arms. So, yeah, I killed my dad. How’s that for fucked up?” He released a humorless laugh. 

“I lost my parents,” Kelce said next, his voice low and JJ winced as if he had already heard this story. Of course, they all must’ve. “My dad had killed my mom when he saw what she had become. She was trying to attack my little sister so it really only made sense but when he came to, he just looked at me and shot himself. He couldn’t take it, I guess. Not that he cared that he’d be leaving two kids behind.” Kelce said in disgust, “and then I told my sister to stay close, stay next to me so I can protect her. I told her that it was the only way to make sure that she was safe but when we got to the ferry for the mainland she wouldn’t stop crying and crying about her friends. I mean, I get it. She’s thirteen and she cares about them, too, but before I even realized it, she was gone.” 

“What happened to her?” Kaili hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath.

“I don’t know. She sent me a text before our phones went off. She said her friend is sailing across the Atlantic, that their parents have done it before and how she wished that I’d listen and I’d gone with her, but how could I have been listening when I was thinking about our safety? You know? She said that she had called my name and that I’d just kept walking into the ferry, following my friends.”

“Is that why you don’t talk much? So you can listen?” Kaili asked.

Kelce shrugged, “when I’m not thinking about her, sure.” He turned away from them both. JJ offered her a small smile. 

“See, you don’t need to suffer in silence here. We’ve all gone through something,” and though it was true, it still didn’t make her feel better. “So when you need your space or you need to work some shit out, let us know. We’ll listen or leave you alone, whichever you prefer.”

And just when Kaili was about to thank them for their kindness, Rafe showed up at the door, “so are we done having a heart to heart or are you guys going to sleep out here tonight?” He said. But there was something in Rafe’s voice that betrayed the cold exterior he was trying to portray and she wondered if their little heart to heart was heard by everyone else in the bus.

“I should probably check on John B anyway,” Kaili excused herself, ignoring the grumbles behind her as the rest of the boys told Rafe that was uncalled for.

The energy inside the bus has shifted, more than likely Topper and Rafe had filled the girls in on their change of direction and Kaili’s inflexible heart. She was aware enough that it was probably her trauma speaking when she said she wasn’t going back. She knew that maybe the information could be right and maybe she could be wrong but that doesn’t help the fact that her body was rejecting the idea of even going. Yes, she’d be alone if they left without her but she wasn’t going to ask them to change their minds either if it was already made.

She made her way into the bigger bedroom at the end of the bus where John B has taken up space right now after washing her hands and her arms, making sure that he was going to be as protected as possible. The boy looked to be sleeping the night away but at least his color was coming back and the sweating had stopped.

Hearing someone come into his space, almost as if instinct had taken over, his body stirred and he opened his eyes, tension leaving his body when he found her standing by him. 

“You’re looking better,” Kaili offered a small smile as she sat beside him on the bed, asking if she could look at the sutures she performed on him.

“All thanks to you,” the boy said as he lifted up his shirt, wincing as he moved, “I was sure that I was a goner,” he continued with a faraway look in his eyes. 

She maneuvered him in a way that made it easier for her to look at the stitches without having to undo the entire bandage on him.

“What even happened?” She inquired and though she knew not to pry, it was curious to her that in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, someone would die from blood loss from a wound instead. “I know your friends said it’s a knife wound but it looked like you were stabbed with something a bit more...bigger? Thicker than a knife.”

“Are you telling me you don’t believe I fought off a whole bunch of pirates for their boat so we could cross over to South Carolina safely?” John b joked as he offered a flash of a smile before Kaili shook her head with a small laugh, making sure that his wound was looking better and not infected.

“Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t either,” he began, “I was trying to run away from some zombies with my friends. They’d all jumped over a fence and I guess I over shot it or under shot it, I don’t know. I was jumping and then the next thing I know, a part of the sharp end of the metal fence was in me, I didn’t even really feel it at first, my only thought was like I hope that Sarah hasn’t left without me—because we were going to her house to get her, you know? I don’t even think that I screamed.” 

“He most definitely screamed,” Pope said at the entrance to the bedroom, “I know you’re not supposed to remove the thing lodged inside a person but it was either leave him there or pull him out and we’re not really in the habit of leaving people behind.”

“Lucky you,” Kaili sweetly said to John b as she looked to Pope, “to have friends willing to risk their lives for you.”  And this she said to the both of them. Afterwards, she’d gotten up from the bed, John b had nodded returned to closing his eyes and Pope excused himself to the kitchen.

Kaili had washed her hands again, thoroughly before returning to JJ’s side as he put on another movie for the night.

“So, I think our best bet is just going west to California,” Rafe announced to everyone in the bus, sparing a glance at Kaili.

“What?” Kaili asked, confused.

“You’re not going north and we’re not going south. We sure as hell can't swim the ocean so we’re going west,” Rafe explained and left no room for discussion as he turned back around to Topper and right then, her heart might’ve mended itself a little bit tonight.

Tags: @stfukie​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @rafecameron​ @outerbankslut​ @thegreatestofheck​ @starlightstarkey​ @stargazingstarkey​ @anxietyandtacos​ @spideymyluv​ @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar​ @pogue-writings​ @bedazzledbanks​ @pankowrudeth​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @cutiecolbsss​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @butgilinsky​ @jiaraendgame​ @deathcompass​

[thanatosangels]

CONGRATS ON 100 MAE!!! i love your writing, so can i get a 🥰 for kitty?

THANK YOU SO MUCH OMGGG!! <333  this is way longer than i meant it to be but i had so much to say hahhaha

~~~~~

I shouldn't have come.

It was Kit’s first thought as soon as he stepped through the portal. 

Holy shit, its hot. That was the second.

Despite growing up in LA, the three years he’d spent in the English rain had clearly changed his body’s temperature regulations. He was used to all encompassing grey dampness - seriously, how can one country have four seasons but they’re all just different variations of rain? - and the scorching sun hurt his eyes and made him sweat uncomfortably. 

He took a deep breath, remembered all the advice about ‘just being himself’ that his dad had given him, and made his way up the path.

Inside the LA Institute was much the same hustle and bustle as before. It was like stepping into one of his dreams. Kit was greeted with a whirlwind of kind words and hugs, swiftly chased into the kitchen and handed a steaming cup of tea - “because, you know, you're English now!” Dru smiled brightly - and a chocolate chip cookie. Everybody was asking how he was, what he’d been up to, how were Mina, and Jem, and Tessa, how was his training going. Emma was particularly interested in the answer to that last question, and pulled him aside later to suggest training together so she could give him all kinds of tips and tricks. He realised, with a jolt, that he was slightly taller than her now. 

The only person who didn’t greet him was Ty.

As he absentmindedly answered everybody’s questions, he glanced around the kitchen anxiously. Ty was the reason he was here. Maybe not officially, and maybe it wasn't something Kit wanted to tell everyone, but it was the truth regardless. After everyone was finished, and people began to wander away to get back to their day, Kit pulled Julian aside.

“Hey, do you... uhm...,” He ran a worried hand through his hair. “Have you seen Ty?”

Julian gave him a sad sort of half smile. “I think he went down the beach.”

----------- 

The water was even bluer than he remembered, and the sand was warm between his toes. He made his way along the beach, trainers and t-shirt in hand. It was too hot for either of them. He was glamoured, so he wasn't worried about mundanes seeing the Marks that now twined their way along his strong arms and chiseled stomach. Sometimes, he had to do a double take when he looked in the mirror because he still didn’t recognise himself, even now. He still thought of himself as the scrawny, lanky, awkward-looking boy of years past.

He kept scanning the beach over and over again, looking for any sign of Ty. There were none.

He kept walking.

He kept walking until he recognised the cave that Ty and he had met with Shade - well, Ragnor Fell - in and a sudden pang shot through his heart at the memory. He walked in slowly, automatically reaching for the witchlight Ty had given him, when he realised he didn’t need it. The cave was already lit.

Kit froze in the small, corridor like hollow at the front of the cave. He stared, wide eyed, at various candles that were littered around the room, the books that were stacked neatly in the corner, and the small, wooden table and camping chair that sat in its centre. But mostly, he stared at the figure sitting at the table. Beautiful. His head was bent over a small gaming console, the Herondale necklace hanging next to Livvy’s locket at his throat, long fingers moving rapidly, black hair curtaining his face, headphones over his ears. Kit blinked, sure he was seeing things, but no.

He’d found Ty. 

He drank in the image of him in the dim light. He was taller now, his legs longer, but he had the same slender build. Kit saw the small muscles rippling in his arms under the grey t-shirt he was wearing as his fingers worked. He nearly collapsed. It had been so long, so long since he'd held him on the roof of the London Institute, so long since he’d told him that he loved him, so long since he’d watched him from afar on the beach for the final time, and yet he still felt his heart rate increase and he still wanted to run his hands through the muddle of black hair on his head and he still wanted to part his lips with his own. He still felt the same.

Ty must have sensed the fact he was being watched then, because he turned his head and looked at Kit. His grey eyes, shining like two silver rings in the candlelight, widened in surprise and he stopped playing his game. He was staring at Kit’s chest. 

Kit was suddenly acutely aware of the fact he didn’t have a top on. He felt himself flush.

Ty pulled his headphones off, putting them around his neck. The inside of Kit’s wrist throbbed at the sight.

The silence was deafening. They were both just staring; Kit at Ty’s earphones, Ty at Kit’s chest. 

Finally, after what was probably seconds but felt like hours, Kit had to say something.

“Uhm.... hey.” He gave a small, awkward wave. Smooth, dumbass. 

Ty flicked his eyes away and stared fixedly at the cave wall directly ahead of him. His mouth was in a hard line, and his right hand was tapping out a fast rhythm on the arm of his chair. Kit swallowed hard. 

“Why did you leave me?” Ty said, his voice barely above a whisper

Kit felt his heart break in two, right then and there. Tears welled up in his eyes. It took everything in him not to go over and put his arms around Ty, but he knew he wouldn't want that. He dropped to his knees instead, bending his head so his blonde hair would hide his face.

“Because,” his ragged voice caught in his throat. “Because I loved you. Because I still love you, even now. Because you're the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. Because I want to be near you all the time.” Every thought, every word, he’d been holding in for three years seemed to be tumbling out. He didn’t stop them. “Because you make me laugh. Because I want to be there for you. Because i dream about you. Because i need you.” He put his head in his hands as a sobbed racked his body. He could feel Ty looking at him.

“You left because you love me?” The confusion was clear in Ty’s voice.

Kit took a deep, shaky breath. “Yes. But I mainly left because you don’t love me.” It was not accusatory: his voice was hollow and tinny in his own ears. 

“But Kit, I do love you.”

Kit snapped his head up. 

“What?” 

“I do love you.” Ty got up, placed his console on the table and came to sit cross legged in front of Kit, looking directly into his eyes. “Why do you think I’m in this cave? Why do you think I’m wearing this necklace?” He pointed at the Heron. Kit shrugged. “I’m here because this is a place we were together. I come here when i want to be with you. And I wear this because it’s the closest thing I have to being yours. It makes me feel closer to you.” Ty looked down at his hands then, and even in the dim light, Kit could see he was blushing. 

“But... but....” It was Kit’s turn to be confused now. “Why didn’t you come to see me today? I had to come and find you. You weren’t there.” He was aware he sounded like a whining child, but he couldn't help it.

"I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say, and i didn’t know want to say anything in front of the others, and i thought you might...” His voice wavered. “I thought you hated me.”

“Oh, Ty,” Kit reached out for his hand, instinctively, and Ty let him take it. “I could never hate you, not ever.” 

Kit turned his own wrist over to show the small outline of Ty’s headphones he had tattooed there. Ty traced it with his finger wonderingly. His touch sent chills all the way through Kit’s body. 

“I have spent the last three years waking up every morning and loving you even more than i did the day before, even when i didn’t think that was possible.” Kit’s voice was low and steady. Ty laced their fingers together. “I have spent the last three years dreaming about you, and crying when i realise you're not there.” Kit leaned forward, putting his face level with Ty’s. “I have spent the last three years running away from the best person i’ve ever met,” he dropped his voice to a low whisper. “But i don’t I don’t want to run anymore.”

And then his lips were on Ty’s, and everything in the world made sense.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Being Captured By the Mandalorian. During Your Capture His Head Gets Injured and You Have to Patch Him Up.

(A/N:) Okay this show is absolutely amazing and I'll admit though only two episodes have been released I'm madly in love with The Mandalorian. Totally not sorry. So I've been wanting to write an imagine but I was having a hard time thinking of something so thanks to the brilliant @ashlaenikoal for coming up with this imagine idea and letting me use it! This is for you chicka!

To say you were in trouble would be the greatest understatement of all time. Sitting aboard a bounty hunter's cruiser, cuffed, and frightened wasn't where you planned on being ever. But here you were watching the back of the Mandalorian's head who captured you. You knew you'd angered someone enough to have them place a bounty on your head, but what you possibly could have done was lost through the moments of your life. Despite the situation you tried conversing with your capturer only to be met with silence. He didn't mistreat you, it was quite the opposite. Whatever need you had was met and he even gave up his bunk for you. You also counted yourself lucky that you hadn't been frozen in Carbonite like the poor saps down below. Despite sensing a danger about the Mandalorian you found yourself comfortable around him. That feeling grew as he protected you from others who would turn you in for the bounty, though you understood that the only reason he protected you was because you were merchandise. He'd lose his pay if he brought you back dead, therefore your security was his priority.

Your wrists were scuffed from the cuffs and you knew there was cuts from the metal digging into your skin, that was partially your fault for trying to break free. They only seemed to tighten as you struggled. After a little whining the hunter loosened them back and you didn't try escaping the cuffs again. As the ship moved on auto pilot the Mandalorian kept his back turned towards you, keeping the atmosphere light wasn't his strong suit nor could you even come close to peeling any layer of personality back. You tried mundane topics, questions about his life, and provoking him. But nothing worked. You sighed looking at the stars pass by wondering how long you had left until the designated drop off point. You were about to ask, though you wouldn't get an answer when the ship rocked violently. You were dumped gracelessly into the floor while the bounty hunter jumped from his chair.

"What's going on," you all but screamed. Pushing past you, he didn't answer.

"You can at least take these stupid cuffs off so I can help!" The cockpit door slid in your face.

Blaster fire was muffled by the metal door and screams of agony met your ears. Thuds hit the door before silence. You almost opened the door to see what had happened when it slid open and the Mandalorian staggered in. He pushed you aside causing you to fall back into your chair. He mumbled something about pirates as he disengaged the airlock and piloted away from the abandoned pirate ship. Once again the ship was programmed with coordinates on autopilot. You watched him shake his head before blood trickled down his armor from beneath his helmet. How his head got injured you didn't know but despite your better judgement you wanted to help him. Standing from your chair you left the cockpit to search for something to help him. Everything in the ship was kept neat and organized so finding the medical kit was easy.

He was wiping blood away with his glove when you returned. You touched his shoulder causing him to flinch but when you placed your hands on his helmet he reacted immediately grasping your wrists with unfathomable strength. He squeezed causing you to yelp when the cuffs dug into your cuts.

"Your head is injured! Those always bleed worse so let me help you!" Breaking his hold you glared at him despite the situation. He sighed and you took that as permission. Once again you touched his helmet to which he jerked. Gently lifting the helmet from his head the first thing you noticed was his jawline. Chiseled and covered with a five o'clock shadow. His eyes were piercing and full of sadness. You had to hold back giggled at the messiness of his hair from the wear of his Mandalorian helmet. Seeing the face of a Mandalorian was extremely rare and you could tell he was extremely uncomfortable. Without saying a word you got to work. Cleaning the wound you tried to get the blood to stop but it was a deep cut on his scalp. He watched you apply steady pressure while trying to not look in his eyes. Your eyes would dart all over the place trying to make the situation less awkward, though you did steal glances. He was handsome and mysterious you couldn't help yourself. Applying disinfectant he hissed at the sting, without thinking you put a comforting hand against his rough cheek. He stared at you until you realized it. He'd forgotten about not wearing the helmet so you could see him staring which made him look away quickly. Applying bandages you tossed the trash into the garbage chute and closed the kit. Wordlessly he replaced his helmet and turned around away from you. You sighed sitting back down deciding to return the medical kit later.

"Thank you," a rough voice broke the silence.

You smiled holding back a laugh. "You're welcome," you answered. Just for that moment you forgot your situation and enjoyed the presence of the quiet Mandalorian.

[buckyreaderrecs]

Wax and Wane

Summary: Bucky was sure he'd felt all the different types of bad a person could feel. He was wrong. You were pretty sure it was illegal to drive away with an Avenger in the back of your van, but what else could you do? A story about grief that is basically the 'flowers grow in the sidewalk cracks' metaphor fanfictionalised.

Words: 5,614 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Thor Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower still exists, other Marvel characters are mentioned but aren’t central to plot, recovering Bucky, not angsty but a sad story, she/her pronouns Warnings: illness/death, sick children, grief

Note: This was written for Nik's 1k Writing Challenge - @serpienten  My dialogue prompt was, "I'll keep you warm. Hold me closer." I hope you love it, Nik! 

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol.

Wax and Wane

As the paint was brushed gently across their skin in broad strokes, you could read the joy and pleasure in their sweet little faces. It was a very minor and short term relief from their day-to-day pain, but it was the very least you could do. Face painting wasn't going to cure cancer or mend broken bones, but it made the residents of the hospital's children's ward happy.

Most of the long-term patients knew you. You were the girl in the tutu and butterfly wings that would come and blow bubbles and make them smile. But on that day, you weren't the one they were excited for.

The children were in a frenzy as The Avengers entered the room, dressed in their best outfits (minus any dangerous weaponry, you assumed). You stood to the side of the room with the doctors, nurses, and parents, and listened along with an enraptured audience as Captain America and Iron Man introduced the team. The kids couldn't sit for long, so very quickly the nibbles and treats were brought out and the room calmed into a soft party atmosphere.

As soon as you'd set up your station, there was a line of children wanting to have webs and stars painted. You worked quickly, getting through the line fast. Staying put, you only had a chance to briefly survey the room before Liam, one of your most special friends, trotted up to you, pulling along someone new.

"Hey, Liam," you greeted. He let go of his new friend's hand to hug you.

"Look, Y/N!" he said, pointing up. "It's Bucky!"

You looked up at Bucky Barnes, who would have towered over you even if you had been standing. The child's size plastic chair you were on really added a comical size difference though.

"Hi, Bucky," you said, coy smile. Bucky softly smiled back. "You're Liam's favourite,"

"Yeah, I told'ed him that!" Liam said, not a shred of self-consciousness in the child. "And now we can be matching,"

"Matching?" you asked.

"Yeah, 'cause you do the painting and you can paint my arm like Bucky's," Liam explained, holding his prosthetic arm out in demonstration.

Glancing up at Bucky to make sure he was privy to the plan, he simply gave a little shrug.

"Sounds good to me. How about you sit in this chair here, Liam, and we get Bucky to sit right next to us on the floor. Is that okay?" you asked both of them.

Liam jumped into the seat, sticking his arm out ready.

Bucky had a bit of a harder time folding himself down, but he eventually managed to sit in front of you comfortably.

"Okay if I borrow your arm for a bit?" you asked Bucky.

He nodded and held it out to you. When you took it, laying it across one of your legs so you could copy the seams and markings, Bucky held his breath. Most people hesitated. He figured some of them were afraid, and some didn't want to appear rude. Not you though. To you, his arm was just that - an arm. You'd kinda grown used to celebrities (is that what superheroes are classified as? you wondered to yourself) by then. Make a Wish and fundraising events and all that jazz… Turns out most famous people are pretty normal, boring even.

Bucky watched you pull a bunch of markers out of your kit and begin replicating the aesthetic of his vibranium arm onto Liam's plastic prosthetic. He let you gently move him as needed, and found himself in awe of how good your Sharpie skills were.

"You're really good," he said, speaking up for the first time.

Liam held most of the space in the conversation, which was fine by both of you. He told Bucky about his illness, and how even though he'd lost his arm, he was the "luckiest kid in New York" because he was alive and because he got to meet The Avengers. There were shades of adult in his words, like he'd been told of his own luck before.

While Liam spoke, you stole glances at Bucky. Mostly, his gaze was on Liam, sometimes darting over to you and away just as fast; he was avoiding eye contact. However, he quickly would turn to focus on particularly loud sounds or doors opening. If you'd had a chance to watch any of the other heroes in the room, you'd note they all did the same.

"Doin' okay, Liam?" you checked in when the boy had gone quiet.

Liam nodded frantically, not wanting to disappoint. "Yeah!" he affirmed.

"Maybe just need a little nap after this, huh buddy?" you asked.

"Maybe," he replied, relieved that there was a nap in his future.

"Think I might need one too," Bucky chimed in. Liam giggled like it was a joke.

"All done!" you announced.

When the very elated Liam was done tippy tapping and hugging, he ran off to show his parents how absolutely cool he was.

You and Bucky stood, both stretching out your limbs.

"Think you've made a friend for life there," you told him; he softly smiled in reply. "Can I just say something that might be way out of place? I just… I don't know… I feel like you need to hear it."

Bucky frowned, studied your face for a second. "Sure,"

"Okay… So… You do know that you deserve to be here, right?"

Mostly his expression was blank, then his head tilted to the side just a little. You'd been reading him the whole time, he realised. He felt exposed. But there was nowhere to run to.

"Maybe…" he finally settled on saying.

"Maybe?" you scoffed. "I mean, kids are lining up to meet you… And you're not questioning if, like, Wanda Maximoff or Natasha Romanoff should be here, you know what I mean?"

Bucky looked over to where Scarlet Witch and Black Widow were forming a girl gang. "They're different. It's different," he argued, but his words were laced with too much sadness for you to give in.

"Yeah… If you wanna get technical, weren't you the only one under mind control or whatever?" you posed.

Bucky looked at you, tried to figure out why you were being so… persistently kind. Your logic made sense, and something in him considered believing it.

"I'm just saying," you continued, "You deserve to be here. And if you don't wanna accept that, then it can be like… Liam deserves for you to be here."

That, Bucky could get behind. He nodded. "Thank you," he said, awkward but earnest.

You shrugged it off, then took a slow step towards him. "Hug?"

He blinked stupidly, then nodded, opening his arms and letting you step into them. While you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, Bucky hesitated for a moment, then slid his arms around you. People around the room, even the ones that didn't know Bucky, watched how his hands lingered in the air before settling on your back. They saw how he melted into the hug, let his head rest on your shoulder and closed his eyes.

When you stepped away from each other, he'd inherited some of your fairy glitter.

"I'll see you next time, I guess," you offered, letting your sentence trail off enough that Bucky could catch it if he wanted. There was room for him to say anything. But, he just nodded.

Bucky watched you walk away.

Sam appeared at his side. "So, are you gonna-" Sam said, the amusement clear in his tone.

"Don't," Bucky interrupted.

"She's clearly-"

"I said don't," Bucky snapped, walking out of the room.

Sam went to follow, worried he'd genuinely upset his friend, but he caught Steve's eye. A subtle shake of the head told him to stand down.

…

Although you buried it deep inside, there was some small part of you that thought maybe you'd hear from Bucky. You weren't exactly sure why you thought that was going to happen. It was easy to let that idea fall in the face of logic though; he was an Avenger… very busy… very private… etc. etc. Nonetheless, that small part stayed alight, and it fed your dreams all the way through to the next time you would cross paths with Bucky again.

It was a different hospital, but the same type of event. Sparkle and shine and cheer the kids up. Although there were less Avengers than the first, the children were entirely chuffed with meeting their heroes. And, this event had something the previous did not. Thor. His laugh bellowed all through the ward's corridors, providing a sharp contrast to the otherwise sterile mundane life of the hospital.

Thor promised the children that it wasn't that they weren't worthy of wielding Mjolner, it was that they just weren't ready yet. "You're far too little! When you're big and strong, like me!" He filled the children with more hope than they'd had in a long time.

Your attention constantly being drawn to the larger-than-life Asgardian was a welcomed distraction… You were trying to give Bucky space, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he could. You wouldn't push it. Two superheroes that apparently did want to talk to you, though, were Falcon and Captain America.

Like you were their mission, there was hardly a second where one of them wasn't by your side. Sam was entirely unhelpful, giving creative input to all the face painting. He made the kids laugh though, often at jokes that went over their innocent heads. It was his sassy tone they really liked. Steve was a little calmer, answering weird and wonderful questions only children could think up.

They were both charming, personable, and genuinely fun to be around, but what were they doing? Were they trying to coax Bucky in? Provide a buffer? Or, no… Maybe they were keeping you from him? Shaking the thought from your head, you simply blew bubbles and painted faces and covered the room in confetti.

You would have liked to say you didn't notice when Bucky slipped from the room, not returning, but that small part of you most definitely did. It most definitely noticed and you most definitely felt the effect of him not speaking to you, not even offering a smile across the room.

"Did I do something?" you finally asked Steve, not needing to explain the context.

"No… It's not you…" he answered, looking over at the door Bucky had left through. "He's just… He's trying…"

…

The children's ward was quiet. It was like that on Tuesday mornings. No events. Rounds over. Just the everyday life of sick children and distraught parents. As you walked down the corridor, you glanced through open doorways on your way to the nurses' station.

It was a hard place to be.

Something caught your eye and you stopped yourself a second too late, passing the room before you could see what it was. A flash of something. Stepping back, you snuck a look around the corner.

A sunbeam off vibranium. Bucky Barnes was folded next to a bed, his arms crossed on the edge of the mattress, his head resting on them. He was asleep. You took a step into the room, then looked to the occupant of the bed. Your heart dropped. Liam.

Liam was asleep in bed, sweating and small.

Cautiously, you crept further into the room. Neither of them stirred, so you took a chair on the opposite side of the bed to Bucky and reached over to pick up Liam's chart from the end of his bed. It didn't say a lot, just the need-to-know for nurse rotation. But you knew those medications enough to know it was bad. Really bad. The emotions caught were too big. You put the chart back; the plastic-hitting-plastic sound it made woke Bucky up. He shot up, chair almost knocked to the ground if it weren't for his reflexes. He looked across the bed at you then, recognition instant. A worried expression took over his face.

"Y/N?"

"He's sick again," you said, your voice sounding far away.

Bucky tracked your gaze to Liam. He nodded. "Yeah… They, ah… It came back… His parents went home to get some sleep. I said I'd stay." When you didn't move, didn't say anything, Bucky grew nervous. He could hardly handle his own reaction, let alone yours too. "They, the hospital, got in touch when he came back in. Said that… I could help. Make him feel… brave, or… I don't know.. It's been a couple weeks, but…"

He couldn't bring himself to say it and you didn't need to hear it.

"I've… I've got to… go…" you said.

When you stood up, you wobbled on the spot and tried to take a step to the door. Bucky was next to you before you even clocked him moving.

"Come on. Don't wanna wake him," Bucky whispered, helping you out of the room gently.

In the corridor, away from the door, you felt the wet hot tears roll down your face. Stupid, you thought to yourself, you should be used to this. It's happened before. The obvious and cruel downside to volunteering in the pediatric ward of a hospital.

Bucky stood in front of you, watching for only a couple seconds before pulling you into a hug. He squeezed you into his chest, your arms curled comfortably between him and you.

"He's talked about you. He'd wanna see you... Come back this afternoon and see him."

You nodded, keeping your eyes shut tightly.

"Okay," you tried, your voice squeaky and small.

"Okay," Bucky repeated, trying to channel the humanity pre-Hydra Bucky showed when Steve's mother passed away. He knew what to say and do then. "You're okay… Go… Go do what ya need to. We'll be here. I've got him," he said.

When he let you go, you felt cold. You wiped your tears, nodded once and looked up at him.

"Go," he prompted, and you nodded again, turning and walking away.

…

"Yeah, I don't know what that is,"

"Finding Nemo?!" Liam repeated, like if he said it louder Bucky was more likely to recognise the title.

You chuckled from the seat next to Bucky's.

"You knew?" he asked.

"Everyone knows just keep swimming, Buck," you told him with a shrug.

"Guess that's another one for the list then," he said, pulling his phone out and adding the film to his ever-growing list of 'to watch'.

Hours could go by like that. You, Liam, and Bucky sitting around, reciting movie quotes to each other. Guessing titles. Laughing at all the gaps in Bucky's pop culture knowledge. Liam loved feeling smarter than an adult, and he completely lost himself in hysterical laughter when Bucky burst out his chair in joy when he finally recognised a film.

"Star Wars!" Bucky had screamed so loud the nurse came in to shush him. "Luke, I am your father!" Bucky whispered at her, grinning ear to ear. Then there was the Harry Potter time. "I got tricked into watching them," Bucky had said, shaking his head. Apparently, during his stay in Wakanda, Shuri had convinced him that Scarlet Witch and those who attended Hogwarts were from the same breed. He should, she said, watch it so he understands Wanda Maximoff better. Shuri would remember Bucky's face forever when he came back from visiting Team Cap.

"My turn," Liam said. He thought for a second. "I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse," he said, his voice forced as deep as his tiny child body would allow.

"Woah! Who let you watch that?!" you said, completely horrified.

"My cousin David," Liam snitched immediately. "The horse head didn't even look real,"

"It didn't," Bucky confirmed, again, happy to identify The Godfather. "Alright, my turn… Ah… Okay. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

You were as lost as Liam.

"We give up," Liam reported after maybe five seconds of thinking.

"Casablanca?! Come on, guys. It's a classic!" Bucky argued.

"God, you're showing your age," you teased.

"Alright, you do better,"

"Easy," you cleared your throat for dramatic effect, "To infinity and beyond!"

"TOY STORY!" both Liam and Bucky yelled in unison.

Liam then taught Bucky how to act out the "Buzz, will you get up here and give me a hand?" scene, complete with thrown prosthetic.

…

"Theeeeeee… beeeeestest… leaf!"

You and Bucky ran off in opposite directions. The hospital courtyard wasn't exactly bursting at the seams with nature, but it was enough to complete a little scavenger hunt.

On Liam's orders, you returned with the most impressive leaf you could find. Bucky was right behind you. Handing them over, Liam carefully considered them from his bunded up seat in his wheelchair.

"The winner is…" he said, pausing to cough. "Y/N!"

"What?!" Bucky screeched.

"Calm down. It's one-all," you reminded him. His feather was iridescent therefore better than your grey pigeon one.

Bucky grinned at you, ever competitive and ever aiming to make Liam happy. "Alright," he said. "What's next, little man?"

…

"Not today, guys," the nurse replied when you ask if Liam could go for a walk.

"Maybe we'll just read a couple chapters of The Lord of the Rings then, yeah?" you said, turning your suggestion to Bucky.

Bucky nodded solemnly, suddenly and deeply affected by the reminder of Liam's weakening state, of mortality.

Before entering Liam's room, you reached out and touched Bucky's arm. He stopped, looked at you with glossy eyes. You don't wanna see it, think it, but sadness didn't take away from Bucky's beauty.

"You okay?" you asked.

It was a loaded question and almost a rhetorical one. Bucky knew that. He didn't answer, just gave you a weak, lopsided smile.

"You Sam or Frodo today?" he asked, shaking it off and moving again.

…

For the whole time you'd known Bucky, his size had always been so obvious. Sitting beside children, beside Liam, he looked like a giant. Even next to the nurses that came and went he towered. Small hospital chairs. Small plastic cups. Small, sanitised rooms.

So, when you turned the corner and saw Bucky sitting on the floor of the pediatric ward's hallway, looking so fucking small, it stopped you in your tracks. His head was in his hands, and you knew what it meant.

Slowly, step by heavy step, you walked the hallway and came to stand in the doorway of what was once Liam's room. The bed had been stripped of linen, but wasn't yet made ready for the next patient. The charts were gone, and the many tubes and plastic bags of chemicals too. A crushed, empty juice box was on the ground.

Behind you, a nurse cleared her throat.

"Y/N… I'm so sorry… We tried to call ya this morning but-"

"I left my phone at home… I was running late. Locked myself out my apartment. Left half my kit there too. Was late to this fairy party gig I had downtown… Bad day… and-" you were rambling, tears slowly running down your face. The nurse's hand gently cupping your shoulder stopped you.

"S'alright, love… Nothing you could've done. But it's good you're here now. Reckon the Sergeant here might need a little TLC, yeah?"

Nodding, you wiped your tears away on the sleeve of your hoodie. Suddenly, it felt ridiculous to be wearing a pink tutu.

The nurse left you alone with Bucky.

Bucky, who had not moved a single inch since you arrived. Bucky, who looked small. Bucky.

"Let's go," you said, kneeling on the lino floor in front of him. "Think maybe a crying fairy and ah, statue Winter Soldier might confuse the kids… So… let's go."

You thought maybe he wasn't going to reply, but he lifted his head, faced up. Bucky's eyes were rimmed red, but they were dry. He looked haunted. Shaking his head the smallest amount, he told you, "I… I can't… can't leave him…"

"Okay… Okay, yeah. Um…" You looked up and down the hallway, trying to think while your head was drowning in grief. "Alright, um… My van is downstairs, in the lot. Let's just… I don't know, get that far."

Bucky just starred at you. For one… two… three… "Yeah, okay," he agreed, standing.

He didn't say a word as he followed you into the elevator and down to the carpark. People tried to not stare as you walked by.

Arriving at your van, you opened the back and shoved some things out of the way, pulling the small mattress and pillows down from where they were propped up against the side. Turning to face Bucky, you read the confusion in his face.

"Oh, ah… I don't live in it… I just…" There was no point in sugar-coating at that point. "I spend half my time around sick kids, you know? I need somewhere to be when it gets too much. Somewhere to… cry or sleep for an hour or whatever."

Bucky looked from the van to you, gave you a small nod of acknowledgement.

"We can just stay here… for as long as you need…" you offered, feeling embarrassment swell in you, but it quickly gave way to the apathy summoned by abject grief.

If Bucky thought it was weird, he didn't say and you wouldn't have cared. He didn't though. He moved to sit where he could politely unlace his boots and nudge them under the van, then he scooted back onto the mattress, laid down. You crawled in after him, closing the doors behind you.

He'd returned to his state of seeming too big for his surroundings, curled up in the back of your van. When you laid down next to him, he looked over at you. "Thank you," he said, voice croaky.

As tears began to form in his eyes, you had the grace to pretend not to notice. "I think there's a blanket somewhere…" You sat up, looking over a box of costume fairy wings. Before you could locate the blanket, Bucky's arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you into him.

Your back was to his chest, his face buried somewhere between your neck and the pillow.

"I'll keep you warm," Bucky said, "Hold me closer." So, you did, putting your arms over his and threading your fingers between his. You didn't need to be kept warm, but he needed to hold onto something solid, someone living, breathing, real, and there. He needed you.

…

Usually, sleeping in the back of the van was fine. When a super soldier was taking up 80% of the space, however… different story. You lasted forty minutes before snaking your way out, jumping over the front bench seat to sit behind the wheel.

Bucky was definitely dead to the world. You could hear his heavy sleep-induced breathing. But, you couldn't just drive off with him in the back. That would pretty much be kidnapping an Avenger, right? You looked over the seat at Bucky. Waking him up seemed like an equally bad idea, both practically and morally speaking. He was so peaceful.

So, against your better judgement, you got out, grabbed his boots, and jumped back in, putting the key in the ignition and turning.

At every car horn, New York pedestrian, and sharp turn, you glanced over to see if he'd been startled awake. Alas, sleeping beauty. After about fifteen minutes of sitting on your phone when you'd arrived home, parked in the back lot of your apartment complex, you ran out of feeds to refresh. Leaving the car key close to Bucky, where he'd see it, you left him there, figuring he'd probably be able to defend himself if anyone tried to steal the van.

Hours later, close to midnight, you found yourself walking around your place, lost and teary. Pulling your nightgown on, you left your apartment and ventured outside. It was cold. That type of night time chill that only exists when you're at your most sad. Bone freezing. Visible breathing.

There was no reply when you knocked on the back door of the van. Opening it, you were startled by Bucky's upright frame. He was sitting awake, back to the interior wall.

"Buck?"

No reply.

You were a little scared. Unsure of what to do next.

"I… I thought you could use the sleep. We're at my place now…"

Still, nothing.

"Do you want to come inside?"

You chewed your lip for a second, waited, but he remained still. His super soldier body would be fine without food or water for a little while longer, you reasoned. And, he constantly radiated heat.

"I'm apartment 5C. Come up when you're ready."

He didn't look over as you closed the door and retreated back into the safety of your home. There, you cried. Grieved. Tried to sleep. You told yourself you would make him come inside in the morning.

…

The sun rose red over New York City. You'd left your blinds open all night; waking up to natural like was meant to be good for you. Sitting up, you stretched the last remnants of a restless sleep off your heavy body and stepped out of bed.

Maybe Bucky got himself in overnight. Crept in through an unlocked window. Used some sort of superhero technology to unlock the front door. He wasn't on the couch, though, or anywhere in the apartment.

Teeth brushed and coffee brewing, you once again donned the nightgown and headed outside.

At least he's lying down, you thought, opening the van door.

Bucky was back under the blanket. He was awake, the lines under his eyes deep set and sharing space with purple shadows.

"Come on," you said. "You can't stay here. People are gonna come looking for you."

Slowly, Bucky rolled his head to the side to look at you. Previously, he was staring at the van ceiling. "Steve knows," he told you, throwing his phone over. It landed on the blanket with a gentle thud.

You didn't pick it up.

Bucky continued, "Messaged him last night. Phone's dead now,"

"Um… okay… Well, you should still come inside. There's more room,"

"I'm fine."

It wasn't defiance as much as it was apathy. You wanted to say something. Anything. Be reassuring. But to be honest, you were surprised by his grief.

Surely, the Winter Solider knew loss. Surely, he'd mourned and learnt to cope.

No… No, this was different, you told yourself. The first child who passed away when you started working with the hospitals destroyed you. It took a month to even go back to the pediatric ward. Since then, you'd put things into perspective and learnt to process everything a bit better. Not as equipped as the doctors and nurses to do so, but able enough to survive the pain.

The pain. Entirely unique. Something Bucky hadn't felt before.

He really thought he'd felt all the types of bad there was to feel. He really thought he was no longer able to love. Besides Steve. And Sam. Wanda. Nat. Shuri… Okay, so he was kidding himself. Still. It fucking hurt.

…

Around lunch, you took Bucky some food. Around dinner, you found it untouched but replaced it anyway.

It was a Sunday night. In the morning you were expected over at the palliative care centre. Reading aloud to the patients helps.

At 5:30 am, you woke from a fever dream. After shoving the sheets in the apartment building's basement washer, you called the centre.

"Oh, no worries, Y/N," they told you. "Sally's bringin' her new puppy in today. That ought to bring some cheer to the place anyway."

Guilt alleviated only slightly, you trekked to the van.

At least he'd nibbled on dinner at some point.

"Bucky?"

It was dark still, the sun only just waking up. You could make out Bucky's form in amongst your stuff.

"You have to come inside today. I…" Guilt. Maybe a guilt trip would work. "I need my van for work…" It almost sounded like a question. "And, I'm sure you've got things you need to do…" No response. "Superhero stuff?"

A muffled snort, but nothing else.

…

"Any chance you can just leave him there?"

For a second, you thought Steve was joking. The silence at the end of the line said otherwise.

"Ah, I mean, it's been almost two days,"

"I can get a car sent over to you if-"

"No," you interrupted. "That's not it. I'm just… Is this normal?"

Steve sighed. "There's not a normal for us, Y/N. There's just… coping… day by day."

Holding in tears, you nodded to yourself. "Yeah, okay. I, ah, just wanted to check in. See if there's anything I should be doing,"

"I'd wager that you're already doing it… It means something that he's chosen to be near you. He could have run. He does sometimes. So, really, for him, this is… progress. He trusts you."

You're weren't sure what you'd done to deserve that.

"Thanks, Steve,"

"Anytime. Call anytime, Y/N."

When you'd phone Stark Tower looking for help, you didn't really expect to be taken seriously. As it turned out, they were waiting for your call.

…

To your relief, Bucky was sitting up when you opened the van doors around 5 pm. He watched in interest as you awkwardly climbed in, handing him the tray you were carrying so you could settle in next to him.

"Choc chip cookies and tea," you announced, not letting him give the tray back. "And I'm not leaving until you drink your cup and have at least two cookies."

Bucky looked down at the presentation in his lap. "Guess I can't argue with that."

You chewed your cookie slowly, making sure you'd not finish before him.

"Did you make these?"

"Yeah… I bake when I'm… Whatever," you replied.

He nodded, then took another bite.

"You called Steve?"

"How'd-"

Bucky shrugged. "Just figured you would. What'd he say?"

"Um… That you're okay here," you told him.

Bucky didn't reply, instead picked up his mug of tea and held it between his palms. The china softly chinked against his left hand.

You wanted to ask if he was indeed okay, but you weren't sure of what you'd be able to say if he lied. Or told the truth. Or anything in between.

When the tray was empty of food, you climbed out of the van, and half-heartedly asked if he was coming inside.

"I'm fine here," was his equally half-hearted reply.

Together, maybe, you could make a whole person, something functioning and able to cope better than either of you were doing alone.

Back inside your apartment, you ran out of plain flour and dishes to clean. All that was left to do was mourn.

…

It had been three nights and days since you'd arrived home from the hospital. Almost eighty hours of saying goodbye to Liam and telling yourself to be grateful that you knew him, and that you were able to help him laugh and find joy in his final few weeks. Hours of phone calls to friends, family, and your favourite nurses. Hours of standing at your apartment door, ready to march down to the van and pull Bucky out by his boots. Hours of it all.

Like all things though, good or bad, it was waning and you were beginning to see how you could survive.

You were sitting at the kitchen bench, practising your pipe cleaner and pom pom crown-making skills when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at your phone as you stood, you thought it was around dinner time. Probably next door, asking to borrow an egg. Or the old lady from down the hall that always made too much lasagne.

Without checking the peephole, you opened the door with your best polite smile ready.

Bucky.

The sight of him hit you, not like a tidal wave, but a waist-deep wave that knocks you back unexpectedly. You stumbled, had to refocus. Felt a little out of control.

Out of the mess of the back of the van, it was easier to see how utterly fucked he looked. His long hair was ratty, visibly knotted in parts. Expression strung out, he looked like he was in amphetamine withdrawal. His skin was too shiny, and his clothes were crumpled and damp in places.

Bucky went to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked pained, then sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hoodie's arm.

Without any warning, you burst into tears.

Your hands went up to cup your mouth but it was too late. The sobs were heaving up from deep inside you, and Bucky was born with too much empathy to not be affected. Tears began to roll down his face.

And that was it. Any pretence or attempt to be stoic was entirely dissolved. You crumbled into each other.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and you pressed your head hard into his chest, almost pushing against him like you were trying to push the feelings out of yourself.

"I know," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

As his arms tightened around your body, you could feel how it was calming you. It was only a short term relief from the grief, but it was the very least Bucky could think to do. Holding you wasn't going to make anything better, but it made you both feel less alone.

Showers and fuzzy bed socks. Hot cocoa and trashy television. Sleeping close. Waking up together.

From the deep unwanted darkness of grief, something was determined to find a way to grow.

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @bubbabarnes

(not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) 

[fairymadnessyeah]

Dragons and Oaths

Shigadabi week day 3

AO3 Link

Summary: For Tenko, moving out of the city was just another bad chapter in his sad, miserable life. But all of that changes when he meets Dabi.

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Cute / Mythology / Childhood

Tenko was sleeping when he heard the crash.

At first, he didn't move from where he was, under the covers of his bed. The sound had come from outside. It was dead at night, and after the crash, the only sound was the crickets outside. Tenko had heard the noise, so Oboro must have too. Oboro would take care of it, he was strong, and he always protected Tenko. After five minutes of complete silence, his curiosity won against his fear. He got out of his bed, his bare feet meeting the cold floor of his room and he peeked out his window. In his garden, a few meters away from the limiting woods, was a black and purple serpent-like dragon. The scaled creature was long and big. But it was hurt. He could see patches of dark liquid below it and the slow breathing of the monster.

Without thinking, his feet started moving on their own. He ran to the bathroom, where they keep their first aid kit, and then went out to help the dragon. His feet hit the wood as he runs outside. Before, he was half-believing it was still a dream. However, the moment he steps into the grass, he knows it isn't. There is a power emanating from the creature. It's overwhelming, but it amazes him nonetheless.

Now that he is closer, he can see that some parts of the dragon where the black scales seem to be burned off. Tenko, now with a better understanding of the problem, gets to work. He puts burn cream on the damaged areas and then covers it with a bandage. He concentrates on his task and gets so lost in it that, when he gets to the dragons head, he notices the creature's eye is open and watching him.

It's blue, and he can feel it piercing through his soul. It's cold and warm at the same time, and it almost looks like it's shining. Tenko doesn't know how much time he spent staring back at those blue sapphires. The moment is interrupted by Oboro calling his name from the house.

The dragon quickly looks back before flying back to the wood. Tenko feels the air rush next to him, ruffling his hair. Oboro steps out of the house a few seconds after, looking worried and scrambling to him, asking if he is okay.

After the encounter, he doesn't know what to tell him.

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Moving out of the city wasn't Tenko's choice.

Oboro had thought it would be good for them to get a change of scenery after the shit-storm they survived. Tenko had lost his family in a driving accident, and the man that caused it adopted him. He was a wealthy tycoon and, 'felt so bad about the incident' that he wanted to give Tenko a new home. That was the statement he realised to the press the real reason was that his company was going to release a new product and they couldn't risk the bad publicity. Oboro, or as he first met him, Kurogiri was his assistant and took most of the care for Tenko.

In reality, he was a cop undercover, trying to get enough evidence of Tenko's new adopted parent, illicit activities to put him behind bars. Which, he succeeded eventually. When everything was wrapped up, having grown attached to him, Oboro took him with him instead of letting him go to a foster home. There was a risk of affiliates seeking revenge and trying to achieve it through Oboro and Tenko, so they moved away from the city.

From big building and skyscrapers, now they had clear skies and open fields of their small rural town. Tenko couldn't say he loved it. Bugs were annoying, the Internet was always malfunctioning, and it was so quiet. The city always had a buzz of movement he had become accustomed to, police car sirens, trains, chatter in the street. Now, the most he heard was the wind blowing, rustling grass and leaves, or the hums of insects. Oboro had told him this place was said to be connected with the spirits, but he hadn't believed him.

Until the other night.

Tenko was sure he hadn't dreamt it. If not for the fact that Oboro found him outside one night, but for the half-empty jar of burn cream.

It had been so surreal.

Tenko had saved a real-life dragon. Or at least, he thought he had. After disappearing into the woods, he didn't see or hear it again. Though not for lack of trying. The woods, after his video games, was the only entertaining stuff about the place. It was like living in a fantasy game and him being the main character. He had to be more careful than he was in his games, however. He only had one life, and he couldn't restart it. No matter how much he wanted to.

He didn't know anything about the dragon until two nights later. He had just finished brushing his teeth and gotten ready for bed when a strong gush of wind opened his bedroom window. He went to close it, but when he looked out of it, he saw it again. The black dragon was back. It was posted on top of one of the trees and looking straight at him.

Then, the dragon zoomed towards him. Tenko ducked and closed his eyes as the dragon came inside, through his window. When he opened his eyes, there was no dragon, just a trail of blue flower petals and a boy his age. He had red hair and a black mompe. Shigaraki would have believed a stranger had come into his room if he hadn't crossed eyes with the boy. The piercing blue that locked into his very soul, the same blue the dragon had.

None of them said anything for a while. But then the boy-dragon moved. He kneeled down completely, his forehead touching the wood boards. "I am the eldest Spirit son of the fire dragon of the east, Todoroki Touya, also known as the protector Dabi," the boy said, not looking up. "You helped me in my time of need and saved my life," he raised his head and looked at his face. "I am forever in your debt, and I swear to protect you and be beside you, for now, and ever," he finishes and once again bows his head down.

'WHAT!?'

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Ever since then, the dragon became a constant in his life.

He only appeared at night, or when Tenko was alone. He didn't like people, especially adults. Whenever Oboro was near, or he talked about his teachers, Dabi got tense. He guessed it had something to do with his dad. Since the one time Dabi mentioned him, he snarled and growled.

At first, Tenko tried to get rid of him. He had asked Oboro about having a dog one day, and he said he would think about it. Tenko didn't think a dragon was an improvement from a puppy. So, he would close his windows and run away from the boy whenever he saw him. Trying to somehow, make the dragon understand he didn't want his protection. But, Dabi was relentless. He would sit outside his window and watch from a distance.

One day, after a bad nightmare, Tenko opened the window. They talked for hours until he fell asleep, the dragon holding him, and wiping his tears. Since then, his window was always open at night.

Dabi came from the spirit world. A place out there that he could barely imagine. He knew how to do magic, his area was blue fire spells, and he had three younger siblings. Tenko couldn't get enough of his stories, about him, his family, his home. He was really out of touch with technology, though. He jumped the first time he turned on the computer in his room. So Tenko spent most nights teaching him about video games and computers. Dabi wasn't very good at them, but he appreciated having a gaming partner after so long. However, the best part of the whole ordeal was the flying. Sometimes, when he was done with his homework and had a free afternoon, Tomura would slip into the woods, and the dragon would take him into the sky. The first time he asked, he expect Dabi to refuse and tell him he would never carry him. Instead, the smug bastard grinned and said: "Took you a while to ask,".

Flying was amazing. He loved feeling the wind in his face, the fast beating of his heart, the warmth of Dabi under his hands. There was nothing like it. Seeing the trees and houses look doll-size below them, it made him feel free. Up in the sky with Dabi, he was not afraid anymore, nor tense or anxious. It was as if the world itself disappeared, and only the blue sky was real.

Though while having a dragon protecting you was fun, it brought complications Tenko never expected.

One was the blue petals. Every time Dabi transformed back and forth into his human and dragon form, he left a trail of blue petals. He didn't mind them much, since they were proof to him that Dabi was real, that he didn't conjure him from his imagination. He was, however, tired of having to clean up after him. Every morning, Tenko would have to dump piles and piles of the stuff because of the dragon.

Another thing was Dabi's temper.

Tenko was used to kids making fun of him. He was new, pale and scratched beyond repair. He had learned to ignore bullies and keep to himself. Dabi, though, wasn't so forgiving. The first time he told Dabi about how a kid pushed him, which he got a scratch from, the dragon left that night earlier than usual. Tenko had thought he had said something wrong and made the dragon mad. But the next day, that same kid's family, found all of their harvest had gone bad in one night.

But that was the nicest case. One day, another kid played a prank on him, dropping trash water on top of him and Dabi burned their home. Nobody got hurt, but the kid swore that he saw a beast inside his house watching him as he destroyed the place. After that incident, he had to have a very serious discussion with Dabi about what he could do and not to other people.

As the month passed and the weather grew colder, Dabi became one of the highlights of his days. He looked forward to seeing him every night and fly with him whenever he could. Dabi had become more than just a dragon to him. He was the one who listened to him about the most mundane things. He was the one who brought him warmth in cold nights. He was the one who made him forget about the horrible world he was part of. He was the one who could make him smile with just a thought about him.

...

Too bad it came to an end so quickly.

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"Hey, Tenko! Could you come down for a moment?" Oboro called him from the living room.

Tenko, leaving his homework half done, went down the stair and found that his caretaker wasn't alone. Sitting in the couch, was Aizawa and Yamada with little Shinsou in between them asleep. The two men were Oboro's friend. Tenko only knew that they had gone to High School together and that Aizawa had worked alongside him to put bad guys under arrest. Tenko liked them. They were the closest he ever got to uncles and a cousin, even if Shinsou was too young to do anything fun.

"Hey, little listener!" Yamada greets him. "Why don't you sit down? We got good news!" he tells him, and the kid follows his instructions.

The three men share a look before Oboro starts talking. "We are clear, Ten," he smiles. "We can go back home,"

"B-back home?" he feels as if his world has been shattered into million pieces.

"Yeah!"

"You mean, we have to move? Away from here?"

"Yes, aren't you excited?" Oboro asks and gently caresses his shoulder.

"No!" Tenko snaps, his eyes getting wet. "I don't want to leave!" he screams, waking up Shinsou.

"Tenko, calm down," Aizawa tells him.

"No! You can't take me! I have to stay here!" he knows he is throwing a tantrum, but they don't get it. "We can't leave! We can't!"

"Tenko, nothing will happen to us. The bad people are gone, we can go back home, finally," Oboro keeps talking and tries to get close to him.

"NO!"

In a panic, Tenko snaps and runs. He rushes through the rest of the house and exits through the back door before sprinting to the woods. He can hear Oboro's, Aizawa's and Yamada's worried calls for him. But as he feels the damp grass under his feet, he can't care anymore. They don't understand, he can't leave. Dabi is here, and he can't leave him.

As he goes further into the forest, the voices screaming his name get quieter. He doesn't stop until he gets to a clear patch of the woods, where there are trees, and he can see the blue sky. "Dabi! Dabi!" he calls for the dragon in desperation. Tenko knows he is there when he feels a wind ruffle his hair behind him and he turns around to see Dabi there.

"Tenko? What wrong? Are you-" Dabi asks, worried at seeing the tears in the boy's eyes but gets interrupted as the light-haired one runs into his arms and starts to cry. Dabi, quickly recovering from his surprise, holds the wailing boy as he wraps his arms around him in an embrace.

"We- we are mo- moving a- away from here," he says between sobs. "You'll co- come with, right? You- you promised to stay by- by my side. You can't leave me," he tells the dragon and feels his hold tightening.

"I can't, Tenko," he whispers slowly and sad.

"W- why? Don't you want to be with me?" he asks. It had always been something he avoided talking about with the dragon. The idea that Dabi only stayed by his side because he had to made him feel bitter. Tenko was the happiest with Dabi, the thought of it being a one-sided thing, that Dabi didn't want to be with him, broke his heart.

"There is nothing that I would wish for more," Dabi says, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking straight into his eyes. "But I can't leave. My shrine is here. I can't leave it," he explains, and Tenko can see the honesty and hurt in his eyes.

Tenko starts crying more now. Dabi embraces him and lets him. In the dragon's arms, he feels safe and warm. But the tears won't stop. How could they? It might be the last time he could be here. "No! No! I don't want to lose you!" Tenko keeps wailing and feels gentle hands in his hair.

"You will never lose me, Tenko," Dabi says and starts wiping away his tears. "I will always be with you, as long as you remember me," he places his forehead against him.

For a few moments, the only sounds around them are the wind and Tenko's small hiccups. But that peace is interrupted when they hear Oboro. He is calling his name, worried. Dabi looks at where the sound is coming from and then turns back to him, taking one of his hands in his own. "Please, don't forget me," he pleads as blue flower petals start appearing out of nowhere.

"I won't," Tenko says, and Dabi smiles sadly at him.

In a flash, he feels something soft touch his lips and then a strong gush of wind. Dabi isn't there anymore, but his hand feels heavy. Tenko opens his palm and sees that the dragon left him something. It's as small as his hand and pitch black. A scale. Dabi's scale. He hears his name being called once more. Before going to Oboro, he fills one of his pockets with blue flower petals.

Tenko follows the voice to a path, where a stone shrine with candles and blue flowers is. The moment he sees him, Oboro runs to him and lifts him in his arms. "Don't run off like that again, Tenko, please," he begs. He nods silently as he lets the man hold him to ease his worries.

"Dragon!" Shinsou, who is up on Aizawa's shoulders, suddenly cries, pointing at the sky.

Tenko looks up to see Dabi twirling flying form disappear between the clouds.

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Come Back... Be here.

Pairings: Tooru Oikawa x Fem!Reader 

Genre: Angst 

Word Court: 1.6k. 

𝅘𝅥𝅮  This is falling in love in the cruelest way. This is falling for you and you are worlds away.  New York, be here. But you're in London and I break down cause it's not fair that you're not around.  𝅘𝅥𝅮

It was a lonely life, one you were forced to become accustomed to. Your fiancé of three years was constantly travelling due to work, and right now he was in Brazil. You tried to maintain high spirits, filling your free time with volunteering and work. But recently every morning, you dreaded waking up. The emptiness that was usually dormant had become active once more, nibbling away at your will to continue your mundane life. Your first thought was to partake in something spontaneous. An activity that would revitalize your very being.

“I’m going to buy a ticket to Brazil!” It was the first idea to pop into your head, Tooru would never see it coming!

“You don’t have the money for that, y/n.” Your best friend, Akaashi was studying diligently when he heard your outburst. It was only natural for him to poke a hole in the plan you assumed was impeccable.

“That’s.... true. I’ll have to pick up more shifts. I can do it.” A determined smile had fixed upon your glossed lips. It would be a surprise.

For the next month every second you had was dedicated to earning money. During one facetime call Oikawa had inquired why the bags under your eyes have gotten worse. He suggested that you buy a new skin care kit, oblivious of the real reason your skin no longer had a healthy glow.

But because of your new and hectic schedule, the two of you barely spoke to one another. At first you did not notice, your whole goal was to surprise him after all. He was the one thing on your mind. It was Akaashi who commented on the lack of communication.

“You and Oikawa haven’t been talking as much.” It was a mere observation from a concerned friend.

“Well, you know I’ve been busy!” You waved a hand dismissively.

“But... he hasn’t called you either?”

You stopped stirring the pot, realization starting to hit. It was weird. Tooru didn’t seem to be phased by the sudden lack of communication. He simply went with it, as if nothing had changed.

If your absence doesn’t matter, then your presence never did.

You knew that all too well. When you were a child you slowly drifted from your friends, and while the others were indifferent, you cried your heart out. It was your older sister who told you that quote.

Now, you had accidentally drifted from your boyfriend by trying to get closer to him. Your chest constricted, anxiety beginning to course through your veins.

“Keiji, can you finish cooking this for me?” Your voice was barely released in a whisper, and your best friend was immediately at your side.

“Go.” He lightly pressed against your back, shoving you out of the kitchen.

The second you reach your bedroom, you placed the phone against your ear, listening intently to the dial tone. He would pick up, right?

“Hello, y/n?”

You instantly feel the stream begin, tears flowing freely as you clutch the phone as if it were Tooru himself.

“Hi.” Was all you were able to utter back.

“... are you crying?” His tone was dripping with concern, which only made you cry even more. You had missed him so much, and you were terrified about losing him. What if he found someone in Brazil? Someone whose face wasn’t colourless and drained? Someone who was able to cheer for him at every game. Someone who wasn’t you.

“Come back. I need you to be here!” The plead was completely unintentional, as you were overwhelmed by the emptiness you had tried so hard to combat. It had been months since you kissed his lips. Months since you were able to caress his face... Months since you felt loved.

Your words are met with silence. He wonders what possessed you to make such an ridiculous request.

“Y/n, I can’t do that.” There was no menace in his voice, rather he sounded defeated. His volleyball career had always strained his romantic relationships. It was nothing new.

“You can’t or you won’t? Other players at least visit their significant others or call them whenever they have a chance!” You were unable to control yourself, for three years you were the perfect girlfriend and then fiancé. It was your goal to be the last person Oikawa Tooru loved. You wanted to be understanding, that was why you never voiced your pain. But now there was no holding back.

“Did something happen? Why are you acting like this suddenly?” If he was being honest, he would have admitted that he did slack as a partner, but only because you never seemed to mind. There were plenty of occasions where his team members would request time off to spend with their loved one, but not him. Volleyball always came first.

“Nothing happened. I keep waiting for you to put me first... but it’ll never happen.” Pinching your eyelids shut, you stumble back a few steps, forcing your back to meet the wall for support.

“Y/n, please. Let’s talk tomorrow when you’re calmer.” His voice used to sound better than your favourite song, and right now he sounded like a complete stranger.

“Okay.” It was suddenly hard to breathe, your lungs were refusing to continue accepting the air, as if it were poison.

“Goodnight. I love you.”

You don’t say it back, which hurts him. But in your head you think he deserves it.

How could you build a family with someone who never viewed you as a priority?

——

He didn’t call the next day, and neither did you.

You had received your final pay-check in the mail the next day and still found yourself at the airport, buying a seat on a last minute flight to Brazil. But your reasons for going had changed. On the flight you fiddled with the ring on your finger, occasionally removing it to read the engraving inside. ‘Yours forever’

A bitter laugh crawled up your throat as you choked back tears. Forever never lasted as long as one expected.

When you arrived it was morning, you knew he had a game scheduled in the evening, and decided to spend the day exploring. It wasn’t a cheap flight, you may as well make the best out of the situation. After buying Akaashi a souvenir, you visited a few popular tourist attractions. It was oddly refreshing being on your own in a new city. It also reminded you that you survived without him before and could do it again.

You managed to purchase some close tickets for the game at a fair price, another benefit for being a single person. Most people bought tickets in pairs, you used to do it too. But not anymore.

When Oikawa entered the court, there were various screams throughout the stands. You even saw some signs that were decorated for him. He seemed to be the most loved player on the team, not that it was surprising.

In the first two sets he failed to notice you. But when he was prepping to serve in the final set, his eyes landed on yours as he began his journey back to the ground. The second his feet connected to the laminated flooring, he stumbled back clumsily. He had not expected to see her. Her presence had thrown Oikawa off his usual rhythm, which almost cost them the final set. Fortunately, his team mates were able to adjust and stole a narrow win. 

At the end of the game, Oikawa had ran off the court, eager to find you. Within minutes he found you at the empty stands. A hand was resting on his chest as he attempted to catch his breath.

“Y/n? What are doing here?”

“I was saving up to see you. That’s why I didn’t call as much recently. That’s why there were bags under my eyes.” A sad smile tugged at the ends of your lips as realization fell upon the man you loved.

“I didn’t know. But I’m glad you’re here. Let me introduce you to the team.” Extending out an arm, he attempted to grab your hand but you quickly stepped away from his touch.

“No, Tooru. I don’t think that’s necessary. I have come only to return this.” As your hands began to tug at the symbol of your love, fear flashed in his caramel irises. Instinctively he grabbed your hands, stopping you from completing the movement.

“Please, y/n. I know.. I haven’t been the best fiancé. But I refuse to let you end it like this.”

“You aren’t the only person in this relationship, Tooru.” Your voice cracked as tears began to cloud your vision.

“I will be better, give me the chance and I'll prove it." To your surprise, there were tears blossoming in his eyes. This was the first time you had seen him cry since high-school. "I love you, please don't do this." Lifting your hands to his mouth, he dropped gentle kisses to your knuckles, only furthering your confusion. How could you turn him down when he looked so vulnerable? A sight so rare that you had to wonder if you were dreaming the entire event. 

Stepping closer to him, your forehead dropped against his chest in defeat. Swiftly his arms snaked around your waist, drawing your small frame against his. It had been so long since you were able to feel his warm embrace. 

"I love you, y/n." He pressed his lips against the crown of your head, and at that moment you were roped in once again. All you could do was hope this time would be different.