#this is an extreme tag however... i hope they die

[willflowered]

well... apologies for the extremely dark mindset i am in this week. someone who i was in a community with was revealed to be a creep around minors and posted horrific content.

[autisticmudkip]

Save a Disabled Child's Life!!!

Do you care about disabled people’s lives? I hope you do. Disabled people are all worthy of love and respect, and disability rights and justice are vital to building a better, more just world.

I truly hope that you care about disabled people. Maybe you are even disabled yourself. Here you have an opportunity to save the life of a disabled person. I dearly hope that you will help save him.

Nour Ashour @noor-yashour has two children. One of them, Muhammed, is just four years old, and since his birth has living with a condition that causes muscle relaxation and inability to move.

To treat his condition, Muhammed requires medical treatment, and regular physical therapy sessions. However, due to the ongoing war he and his family are suffering through, he has not been able to recieve proper treatment for over a year. Without treatment, Muhammed will DIE. He will die solely for the sake of being a disabled boy in Gaza. This is deeply unjust.

On top of Muhammed's pressing medical needs, the Ashour family needs help getting other necessities to survive as well. The need to be able to purchase food, water, and safe shelter for the coming winter.

Despite how urgent her family's needs are, and how diligently Nour has been working to raise funds for her family for months, she has only reached a small fraction of her goal! Donations have been extremely slow. Muhammed can't afford this. Without treatment, he will die.

£6,825 / £80,000

Please, I beg you, donate to Nour. Muhammed doesn't deserve to die. Nour doesn't deserve to lose her son. None of the Ashour family deserves to starve or freeze this winter. Donate whatever you can! Even a small amount, just £10 or even £5, is much better than nothing! If you absolutely cannot donate, please share Nour's campaign as widely as you can, both on tumblr and with people you know in person.

Please, just do whatever you can to save Muhammed. Give this disabled child a chance at life!

Vetted here by 90-ghost

Donate to save Muhammed!!!

Tagging for reach:

@meowmaids @chilewithcarnage @irhabiya @2spirit-0spoons @punkitt-is-here

@dirhwangdaseul @toesuckingoctober @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense @galactic-rhea @ddeck

@nibeul @symeona @vaders-georg @halvoric @fleshdyk3

@justmagicalgirl @slowbrobutch @andnowanowl @plum-soup @nyanfaer

@prececosmica @majesticcupcakequeen90 @deathlonging @deepspaceboytoy @neechees

@wouriqueen @coffeelich @bubonicherald @beargif @laurajameskinney

@bulletbilltime @liphia @cyber2000 @zingay @binglam

@2blushie @antiauteur @acnologia-is-best-dragon @bitchmael @fromjannah

@penelopiaad @laughtracklesbian @legallymean @b0nkcreat @esperantokomencanto

@uwu-pinata @syntheticspades @haruspexism @bloodandgutsyippee @wellwaterhysteria

[sunfyresrider]

ミ♥︎OUR LAST SUMMER | NETEYAM SULI

❥Summary: You were never allowed to leave the lab, especially to venture off into the forest. However, one day you get a extreme urge to go to the river and that’s where you met him. The man who would surely be your downfall. ❥Word Count: 8k ❥Tags: obsessive tendencies, love struck Neteyam, mild manipulation, jealous!neteyam, interspecies relationship, wingman!Lo’ak, smut, fingering, oral, p n v, choking (slightly), mild angst. Am I missing anything? Lmk! ❥Author’s Note: This can be seen as a part one to a future fic of mine ‘Mated for Life’. S/O to me for finally remembering to add a word count LMAO. This is inspired by an older fic of mine so I’m kinda copyrighting myself😎

Neteyam knew from a young age everything would fall on his shoulders, that all the responsibilities of an adult would be his to bear. It made him pretty fucking miserable to be honest, but he would never let it show. It made him a better person in many ways, a better son, a better warrior, and a great brother. It did not make him happy nor did it make him forget the loneliness he felt.

Lo’ak always claimed he was misunderstood but Neteyam dare say he had it worse. No one viewed him as other than perfect, no one attempted to see what’s under the surface, and no one was there to love him in the ways he thought he deserved. Today was one of the days that proved he wouldn’t be anything other than the perfect soldier. Another day he had to take the blame for something he did not do.

His brother had snuck onto the battlefield and nearly killed them both. The second their ikrans landed his father had a speech to give to them both, even while his eldest son was bleeding. He took the blame as he always did, the yelling, the insults, and the beratement to protect his younger brother. How much more could he take though? After his wounds had been healed he found himself in the corner of the forest, knees pressed tightly to his chest.

Neteyam prided himself on not being weak but today he let the tears flows. He let the river attempt to wash away the burden that he had no choice but to carry. Neteyam wanted someone, just anyone, to understand him. That is what he prayed for from Ewya, even though the great mother did not involve herself in petty things such as this, he hoped she would this one time.

You had grown up on Pandora, your mother being one of the great scientists who worked with Grace Augustine and Jake Sully. She didn’t allow you to venture outside often like spider, you were too small, too precious to her to risk being harmed in the wilderness. In your opinion it was a load of bullshit and you deserved to play with the Na’vi kids just like him! Except now you were older, inexperienced, out of shape, and would probably die by a viper wolf attack.

Unfortunately for her you were born with rebellion in your heart and a strong sense of will. Dusk had fallen on the moon and the light from the windows inside the lab were beginning to fill the room's orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. It was a strict rule to return to your room after biology lessons with Norm but you had plenty of time to stroll. Right now, your mother would still be aiding the warriors returning from the recent battle. It was prime time to make an escape and explore.

You first met Neteyam in a very compromising position, curled up by the stream and sleeping. There was a subtle stain on his blue skin from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you leave him out here all alone? Granted, he was twice your size and carried many weapons but that thought did not ease the ache in your heart. No one should ever be left alone to cry. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Neteyam?” You whispered into his ears.

His eyebrows began to furrow slightly, ears twitching in the direction of your voice. “Neteyam, wake up.” He jumped up and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the surroundings quickly and you before settling with a confused expression plastered on his face. “S-sorry Lo’ak isn’t here,” you mumbled out. You knew the former vastly better since he visited the lab so often, all you knew of the eldest was stories.

Neteyam’s quickened breathing settled, his eyes scanning over your form. Which human were you? You were too pretty to be another scientist, too young to have lived here during the war. It took him awhile of staring at you for his brain to finally put it together, “star girl.” His hands released you slowly as his mouth hung slightly agape, why in Ewya’s name would Lo’ak hide you from him? He had seen you in passing once or twice but he didn’t realize you looked like this.

Neteyam never considered an alien could be beautiful but you proved him very wrong. You had the perfect lips, your eyes glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell perfectly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your strange clothes you had a nice body too. “Lo’ak told me many things about you, all good so far.” He quickly cleared his throat, pulling his hands away to wipe the tears from his eyes. This was embarrassing, but he was going to push through it.

Two tiny, four fingered, hands cupped his cheeks. Your skin was warm, soft and distracting him from his original thought. “Are you alright? Was someone being cruel to you?” You regretted the last sentence as it stumbled out, he was just in a battle you idiot! Oh Ewya, help him because you sounded like the angels his dad spoke about. Neteyam was too dumbfounded to say anything coherent, maybe too starstruck by your presence.

You weren’t necessarily wrong, his father did hurt him deeply. His mother hurt him by not standing up for him either. The most perplexing part was you cared to ask, your tiny self risked being in these dangerous lands just to see if he was alright. Neteyam forced himself to nod slowly, not entirely sure how to react to such comfort.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best thing to do but your mother always comforted you in this way. You had even done this to Kiri a few times when she came to the lab to cry about her own problems. Gently, you swiped the tear tracks from his face, pressing two gentle kisses where they laid. “Don’t cry, you’re an amazing warrior, a good son, an even better brother. You finished your Rite of Passage before anyone else your age. You have so much more to offer than just those things and they’re just too blind to see it. And so many people love you like-”

“My child,” the sounds of your mother's cries echoed in your ears. Shit, she knew you had escaped. You let go of him quickly, preparing to run into her arms and feign innocence. Before you left though, you jumped onto him, arms embracing his frame the best they could. “You're perfect, okay? I’m always here to talk if you need it." You jumped to your feet, brushing off the dirt you had collected whilst exploring. "I gotta go... feel better!"

Neteyam sat up and watched you scurry away, his eyes were wide and time had stilled around him. Where the fuck have you been his entire life? His heart felt full in a way it hadn’t before, Neteyam’s stomach twisting around itself. The thoughts of your little hands, your little frame, your sweet voice and soft lips swirling in his head. You were so… perfect, so inviting… You had to be his.

He had never truly thought about having someone all for himself, especially an alien. But even the perfect son needed to indulge his own desires at times, even the hardened warrior needed to be held in times of sorrow. At this moment all he could think about was stealing you away, keeping you safe in his home, protecting you from the dangers of this world forever. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible.

Neteyam pulled himself up, with a new found confidence he ran home. It was time he talked to his parents about finding a potential mate.

The talk went about as well as Lo’ak claiming his ikran. He mentioned he had found someone, and he was prepared to finally choose a mate. His parents rejoiced, the proud look they reserved for him finally returning. Until he mentioned that it was you, and the light drained from their eyes, the colors fading from their faces.

Neteyam’s idea was shot down faster than he could manage to speak it. You had an avatar body in that damn lab and he knew it! You could easily become one of the people like his father and be his mate. Why was his mother so against it? His father at the very least gave it some thought before succumbing to his mother’s rants.

It wasn’t her fault she was traumatized, but it was hypocritical considering his father was an alien when she met him. Fine, Neteyam was used to a challenge and he would claim you before they had another chance to say no. Hopefully this time around his love for you would override his fear of disappointing his parents.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next time he came across you was far after eclipse, everyone in his home was fast asleep while he made his move. It was incredibly hard to sneak out of the camp, even harder to sneak into the human camp. Your stupid cameras and metal monstrosities make it nearly impossible to creep through, let alone into you. Neteyam vaguely remembered where Lo’ak claimed you slept, in moments like these he was grateful his brother had his back.

The more he tiptoed around the camp the angrier he became, were you even real or was that a fever dream? He stumbled onto a group of tree metal homes stacked against each other. Carefully, he peeked his head into each one searching you out. To his disappointment the first two were occupied by a snoring Norm and a drooling Max. It took him one more attempt before he finally saw your sleeping figure.

You were so adorable, all bundled up in the things called sheets and holding a pillow tightly to your chest. It made his soul melt at the sight, Neteyam wasted no time welcoming himself inside, pushing the first door open and closing it tightly behind him. If he let any air in from the outside you may die before he got the chance to touch you again. Thankfully, the next door was easier and much quieter than the first.

Neteyam had to crouch as he approached you, ignoring how terrifying he probably looked. He outstretched one of his long fingers to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, admiring the peaceful view in front of him. If Ewya allowed it he could stay and watch you sleep all night but your air was already taking an effect on his lungs.

“Yawne… wake up,” he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you awake. You were an incredibly light sleeper, your eyes shot open and you jumped back as if you were about to scream. Neteyam quickly shoved a hand over your lips, bracing the back of your head with the other before it crashed against the wall. “Shhh, shh yawne, it’s Neteyam.”

You crooked your head to the side, watching him closely. Obviously pondering why he invaded your space at such a late hour. “Neteyam,” you murmured into his hand, confirming if this was a dream or reality. A wide grin blessed his features, “good morning, baby girl.” He heard that nickname from his father, and by the blush on your cheeks it worked quite well. “What are you doing here?”

You rubbed your eyes, gazing out the window, “it’s after eclipse...” you drawled into a yawn. His entire body language shifted, excitement coursing through his veins. “I’m always too busy during the day to visit so I thought now would be the perfect time.” You sat up on your bed, he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “O-okay.”

Neteyam smiled at you with such kindness, even with his size you didn’t feel threatened in slightest. “I thought since you never get to go out I would take you tonight. Of course, you would be under my protection the entire time.”

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But at the back of your head the sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do rang strong. The fear of disappointing her was even stronger and the fear of potential punishment. “I- I can’t.”

“No one will find out, I promise.” His amber eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. “You wouldn’t want to make me sad, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” It was manipulative, he knew but it worked flawlessly with you. Neteyam would make up for this one transgression later. “Fine, just wait for me outside please. " you said in a nervous whisper.

Neteyam didn’t take his eyes off you as you slid into your “outside” clothing, at some point he would need to get you actual ones instead of the odd human fabrics that cover too much. You hastily slipped your mask on, taking in a deep breath as you did. He hated that thing, hopefully soon he could get rid of it. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach as you exited the lab.

“You ready, baby?” The word sounded foreign on his tongue but music to your ears. You nodded in excitement, letting Neteyam grasp your hand and pull you along. He was gentle with you no matter how much excitement was coursing through his veins. You moved in unison through the thick leaves, granted he whisked you off your feet anytime you seemed to falter. The farther away from the encampment you got, the happier you became.

The forest was naturally lit with bioluminescent flowers, vines, and grasses of all kinds. The noise of animals coming out to play filled your ears and for once it did not frighten you. Neteyam was basking in your joy, your voice carried only the excitement of someone innocent to this world. And when you glanced at him? It felt like Ewya herself had sent you to make his heart ache.

To avoid any possible maimings or accidental injuries he kept you very close to him. If Neteyam’s arm was not around you then his hand was on yours. The warmth you radiated felt like his only life source. To your surprise, he was naturally funny and laid back. You had only assumed he was cold, stern and serious, this must be a side of him he only showed a few.

You spoke with him more than anyone, babbling about everything you saw, heard or felt. It may seem obnoxious to others but to him it was like a melody being played by a flute. Each time you squeezed his fingers he felt the blood rush to his head, pounding at his skull in the most beautiful way. You had completely and irrevocably captured his heart.

As the evening progressed the original point of this journey was almost lost to the daze you put him in. Instead of immediately taking you to the sacred place he opted for the stream where you originally found him, you could call it a second, better, impression. It was memorizing in the eyes of a girl who never got to leave her cave of comfort. The fish glowing beneath a gentle stream, a waterfall glistening under the light of several moons.

But this place would be the start of your inevitable downfall. It started off as a dare that turned into swimming half nude with a man twice your size. You let the water flow past you, cradling your body in its warmth. Neteyam was a better swimmer than you, granted you had never gotten the chance before. You chased him in circles below the surface, quickly becoming distracted by the fish that swam by.

The orange was your favorite, reminding you of the sunset. His favorite was the yellow, said it reminded him of you because yellow was the color of happiness and you made him happy… It was a very sappy way of flirting but it worked. Neteyam spent most of his time indulging you on what you wanted or asked the entire night and he did not mind for one second.

You asked him personal questions no one else dared to, further carving your way into his soul. If he thought he knew what love was before he was terribly wrong. Whatever you were doing to him was much worse in all the right ways. It was about the time he came to the realization, staring into your eyes and seeing your future together, you started to nod off. Your eyes become droopy, yawns escaping your throat every other sentence.

Neteyam would stay like this forever if he could, drowning in your existence. Your health was more important to him though and you desperately needed sleep to survive. You tried to fight him off when he said it was time to go, whining to stay here forever. It was cute, and he almost didn’t make you leave, until another adorable yawn left you.

He whisked you off your feet without protest, wrapping your legs around him so he could carry you home. You felt embarrassed at first, realizing you probably looked like a baby being carried by their mother. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebump down your spine, long fingers wrapping around you to keep you in place. The low, deep, whisper of his voice telling you sweet nothings echoing in the walls of your mind.

A new sensation washed over you as Neteyam’s lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. A sweet ache between your legs that progressively got worse the longer he held you. You attempted to pull away, embarrassed he could feel the heat, but he easily overpowered you. Neteyam was determined to keep you in place, as close to him as humanly possible.

He paused his stride, gazing at you for a moment and then back to the forest ahead. You avoided his eyes, but you could feel the smirk creep onto his face. He didn’t say anything on the way home, deep in thought it seemed. However, you could hear his breath becoming ever so slightly heavier.

Neteyam should be a good little soldier and take you home and feign ignorance. He noticed every sound, every look, every smell, every movement coming from you. The warm feeling across his waist that was driving him to the brink of insanity. His own arousal was bound to be noticed the second he put you down… How far could he go with you before he was stopped? You wanted him and why should he not give you what you wanted?

Sneaking back inside the second time was easier than the first, and this time he intended to stay a little longer than necessary. You were drowsy, too tired to change yourself into dry clothing. You probably told yourself he was used to seeing people in less clothes and that it was nothing to Neteyam. Oh how wrong you were. He managed to keep quiet though, attempting to avoid the thing between his legs.

“Time for bed, yawne.” You threw yourself onto the bed, melting into the mattress. Sleep evaded you, the wetness between your legs making it unbearable to get comfortable. To your surprise, he climbed on top, hovering mere inches from your face. “You okay, baby girl?” His ears twitched, Neteyam’s tail betraying his thoughts. There it was again, the foreign nickname that rolled off his tongue like honey.

You crossed your legs together tightly, “I-I’m okay.” He cocked his head to the side, bringing a finger up to brush your face. “I can help you if there’s something wrong,” he purred. You gulped, opening your legs ever so slightly to make a little more room, but that only made the ache worse. His knee found its place between your thighs, applying pressure to the one place you were trying to avoid.

You turned away and evaded his gaze. You felt like a complete idiot, a grown woman acting like a horny teenager, it was disgusting! However, when you looked back at him he was still looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask for his help. His knee moved forward once more, you bit your lip to avoid the sound attempting to escape. “I can show you what helps me, yawne.”

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you. A sound of pleasure escaped you before you could stop it, and that seemed to embolden him.

His lips pressed harder against yours, the sweetness of his mouth made your mind hazy. Neteyam’s tongue found itself entangled with yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment. The feeling of need was quickly becoming too much so you moved your hips against him, desperately trying to release the pressure.

Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his fangs glistening in the light. “All you had to say was your problem was down there,” he purred. “I can fix that for you,” Neteyam’s voice turned into an exhilarating whisper, sending chills down your spine. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers gently slipping inside your waistband, hovering over the spot you really wanted him.

You grabbed his hand, your nerves getting the best of you. “W-what if someone finds out.” Neteyam moved forward, cupping your pussy . It was so wet and desperate for him, how could he stop? “I won’t tell if you don’t.” You closed your eyes, nodding your head. Neteyam kissed you once more, this time more rough than before. Internally, he hoped everyone would find out.

He slipped his finger inside of you, his eyes growing wide at how tight you were. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, and you were practically throbbing. Neteyam’s fingers were large enough to easily reach your sweet spot, stretching you out as he added another. You clenched around him, a high pitched sound leaving your lips.

He groaned at the sight of you, you were far too good to be true. Neteyam leaned down, gently nipping at your neck and sucking on your pulse point. His fangs occasionally gliding across your sensitive skin. Neteyam continued to pleasure you, fingers moving at a steady rhythm, a pace he knew he could keep up for hours.

You bit your lip to hold back your whines, each breathy exhale turning into a high pitched moan. The sound was like music to Neteyam, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, tasting your skin as he left marks. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, in one way or another.

His thumb began to circle your clit, thankfully human anatomy was similar to his own. His tail wrapped around one of your legs, pulling it to the side, allowing him more access. You gripped onto him, burying your face in his chest to hide the embarrassment of the sound leaving your lips.

Neteyam kissed your forehead, nuzzling you softly as he quickened his pace. You clenched tightly around his fingers, bucking your hips against his hand, riding it out as much as possible. Neteyam had you pinned under him, mercilessly trying to pull out your orgasm. He was almost certain he would cum in his loincloth.

"You're doing so well for me, baby girl." He purred into your ear, his tongue darting across it as his hand worked you. His fingers consistently applying pressure at the spongy spot inside of you. His thumb continued to move across your clit, working it to match the pace. You gripped tightly to his broad shoulders, rolling your hips against his hand as you felt your body begin to give way. "Oh, I-I-I..."

“Hmm? Baby girl I can’t hear you.” His breath was hot on your neck. “S-sgood, Teyam,” your new nickname for him made him groan. His fingers continued to move, making your words come out more high pitched and incoherent than before. He nipped at your neck, biting it and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

He didn't want to stop, he didn't want this moment to end. The feeling of your warm cunt tightening around him as your body tensed. Your nails digging into his shoulders, you back arching and hips bucking. His hand moved at a steady pace as your body began to unravel, letting yourself go. The euphoric feeling washing over you like a tidal wave.

Neteyam took his time as he eased you through it, gently bringing you down as he whispered sweet nothings. He peppered kisses across your face, murmuring how good you were to him as you relaxed. "Good girl," he whispered. He carefully removed his fingers, and your body mourned the loss of him. “You did so good for me, yawne.”

Your body was limp underneath him, your weighted breaths slowing. “I’m so tired,” you murmured. Shh, go to sleep, yawne. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, unsurprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his loincloth, and it was leaking out onto your sheets.

Neteyam watched you sleep peacefully until the light began to shine into the camp. He rushed back home and thankfully, no one noticed his disappearance. This became a routine between the two of you, and Lo’ak became his best wingman. He pretended to not know anything, made excuses, and visited you pretending like he wasn’t just going so Neteyam had an excuse to follow. For once he was very grateful his little bro was the way he was.

Things were looking up for you as well, Now you got to leave the human lab more often and you got to watch him train with the other boys. A few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you, the way he moved if you moved. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship. Neteyam was always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in a way you never thought possible.

Neteyam was completely beside himself, and it was going to kill him eventually. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was so much more than just the perfect son. You liked him for the reasons no one else did, seeing him for how he truly was and wanted to be. It was no wonder he was infatuated by your existence.

Neteyam, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin you completely. He was pretty positive he wouldn’t even be able to fit inside you anyway. It didn’t change the fact he thought about it every single day. It was hard to explain the things he was feeling but he knew he was stuck to you. Without you he wouldn’t be able to breathe, eat, or sleep like he used to. Neteyam’s existence would become completely meaningless without your presence.

But for now, it was new and perfect. Shiny like a freshly carved toy bound to break.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

All good things come to an end, you learned that after Quartich had returned and Neteyam was being stolen away to a reef clan too far from you. The moon stopped its rotation, all of the life you had being stolen away after he uttered the words goodbye. It was an indescribable pain, unrelenting and all consuming. It took weeks for you to be able to leave your bed, for the nightmares to cease, but the thoughts of him haunted you at every waking moment.

The only place you could find him was at the river, in memories. A part of you wished to go back, to have never left the lab and stayed oblivious to his existence. In your heart you knew he was bound to carve his place into it one way or another. Neteyam used to say how he prayed to the great mother for you and Ewya always finds a way. Day and night blurred together, you stopped counting the hours and let them fly past you. In your darkest moments you repeated a chant to yourself, a prayer almost, One day, Neteyam will come back for you.

He cried, a pathetic display, in front of his parents to bring you with. Neytiri was disgusted, but not enough to hate you as much as spider. He took that as a small win in a losing battle. Jake never faltered on his stance, only family could come unless you wished to put yourself in danger. All he received for his pleas was sympathy from his siblings and a harsh scolding from his parents. It felt as thought his heart had been torn from his chest, the air sucked out of his lungs. You would be here alone, without him, doing all the things you should be doing with him. Neteyam would be stuck in the middle of the ocean with strangers on a droll island.

He did not adapt to the way of water like Lo’ak did. His brother had finally found an environment to thrive in but he was completely lost without you. It was becoming harder to maintain the perfection his father strived for. Even whilst in mourning he had to care of everyone, protect them, comfort them and receive none of it in return. It was a hard life to live but what other choice did he have?

Neteyam only ever felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He was always with you in his dreams, feeling, touching, hearing and smelling you again. For a few hours each night he was back in your room making stupid jokes and listening to rave about your newest discovery. It was always sunny in his dreams, even when it was nightfall. Each time Neteyam closed his eyes it was as if he was in the promised land… but everyone has to wake up eventually.

To ease the eternal ache, he started pleasuring himself more often. It would be a sad sight if anyone ever caught the once mighty warrior stopping to such levels but desperate times called for desperate measures. Neteyam fully intended on stealing you away one day, human or avatar body he didn’t care anymore. If anyone was against you he would kill them… except his own blood, of course.

When he connected to Ewya he saw you, crouched down by your mother in a body he didn’t recognize. Oh, your avatar, your mother is finally allowing you to use it. You were still ethereal in the new body, still tiny, but you looked much more like him. You felt so close to him, your warmth radiating through the connection. He was at peace again, for a limited time only. Neteyam was dragged away the second he felt a shift in the water… Kiri

“We’re leaving… now!” You scrambled to grab the med supplies before you leaped onto the helicopter. For all that it was worth, you hoped Kiri was okay. Still, a very selfish, disgusting, part of you was glad you now had an excuse to visit Neteyam. Norm wouldn’t allow you to go in Avatar form, too early to tell if it would last the long journey ahead. You nervously picked at your fingernails the entire way there, she would okay you knew it.

Neteyam could only watch as your little form rushed past everyone to get to his sister. He never left her side or yours for that matter, choosing to stay outside and watch you work. He couldn’t put into words how grateful he was for you, for the effort you were devoting to his family, to saving his sister. He felt a sliver of happiness just watching you again, seeing that you were alive and well.

You hadn’t given him the time of day though, too busy checking Kiri’s pulse and giving her an IV. If you were being honest with yourself this didn’t appear to be a normal human illness. Almost all people can wake up from seizures naturally, almost, as she wasn’t waking up at all. You didn’t know as much about Ewya as everyone else but if this happened whilst she was connected to the tree… then it was probably due to that.

Of course, you hadn’t voiced this out loud in fear of insulting Norm and his hard work. Also, Neytiri breathing down your neck had you too scared to move, a good mother, but a very scary woman. Eventually, you were all kicked out and you nearly fell on your face rushing onto the woven walkways. They were much more bouncy than you expected but a rather large Metkayina boy caught you before you dived head first into the ocean.

“You should be more careful, alien.” You gazed up at him with wide eyes, he was even bigger than Teyam! The last word was in Na’vi but you knew very well what it meant. Luckily, it wasn’t filled with disdain like it usually was, rather disappointment paired with curiosity. A strange thing you did notice was his hand remained on your shoulder, was this normal? “Thank you…” His head raised, eyes scanning you cautiously, “It’s Aonung.”

The crowd around the marui had finally begun to disappear and Neteyam was able to release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stood up from his crouching position, thanking ewya for saving his sister and welcoming her back to the land of the living. It was times like this he was grateful his dad pushed him so hard, if he was too weak, too careless, she could very well be dead.

Neteyam slowly stalked out of the marui, lost in his own thoughts. He knew you would love the ocean, the water, the creatures, and all of the plants you fawn over. His dream was to be able to show you it eventually, under more positive circumstances. For now, he would accept showing you what he could whilst you remained here. A childlike smile graced his features as he looked around, head turning in all directions to spot you.

“I’m going to kill him,” his eyes twitched and Neteyam’s hands unconsciously balled up into fists, granted they were not the same as those with four fingers. Aonung was touching you, talking to you as if you weren’t an alien. After all the bullshit he’d done to his siblings he had the nerve to touch you? He felt the bile in his gut rise to his throat as you smiled at something he said. “It’s a waste of time,” Lo’ak appeared beside him and if he was in his right mind Neteyam would have demanded to know where he has been.

Except he wasn’t in his right mind. “Fish lips,” his younger brother mumbled under his breath before turning to go into the marui where Kiri rested. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Neteyam couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night. Before he knew it his feet had carried him right behind you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

“Teyam,” you exclaimed, more excited than you have been in months. Your smile fell when you noticed the way his eyes were staring daggers into the water boy, enemies perhaps? “Back off,” he gritted through his teeth as he poked at Aonung’s chest. Obviously, this wasn’t a fight the other was interested in. He glanced at you with a raised brow, if he had a brow, and back at your Teyam.

“Okayyy then,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “It was nice meeting you, human.” Aonung spoke to Neteyam more than you, his smirk directed only at him. You swore you heard him growl lowly, maybe the heat was getting to your head. He didn’t move as he watched the fish boy walk away, his tail swaying violently behind him. “Neteyam?” You turned to him, staring at his face after what felt like centuries.

“Teyam-” you were cut off as his hand wrapped around your wrist, literally dragging you away from the camp. You protested at first, slamming your fist into his arm, offended by how he was behaving. Did the reef people make him cruel? “Let. Me. Go!” you shouted at him, but your cry fell on deaf ears. The grip he had on you wasn’t bruising but his strength far outmatched yours and this was completely unfair. You whipped your head around to watch where he was taking you, the sandy beach quickly turning into heavy shrubbery.

It was beautiful at the very least, you told yourself to remain positive. There hasn’t been a time where you’ve seen Neteyam this angry, especially at you. He paused in his steps when he felt you were now far enough away from everyone. Neteyam let your hand fall to your sides, taking a deep breath, “you!” You flicked when he raised his voice, your fear only heightened at your sheer size difference. "Y-yea, me."

Neteyam huffed, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze piercing though you. “Why haven’t I seen you all evening” Normally, he kept all of his feelings under check, making sure to never express them in case they would upset someone else. Now, the anger radiated off of his shoulders and his words dripped with malice. His question came out as more of a demand, and you could feel your own anxiety spike up. “I was helping Kiri.”

“Helping? You were too busy swooning over fish lips to help anyone.” The words fell from his mouth faster than he could process, regret immediately flooding his system. You wished the ground would open up and Ewya would swallow you whole. “I- I-'' you choked on your own words, tears welling in your eyes. “You don’t love me anymore?” Your damned mask began to fog as you stumbled over your words.

Neteyam's hands were around your shoulders before you could even react, pulling you into him, “don’t cry please, you’ll suffocate to death.” His tone was gentle and he spoke softly, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. The tears came quicker now and your heart hurt. His large hands ran up and down your back in an attempt to calm you down.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't mean to," You sniffled, attempting to keep the tears in your eyes. Neteyam didn’t mean to make you cry, although seeing you like this for him was far better than watching you with the other. Shit, was this manipulation? He dropped down on his knees so you could almost be the same height, placing his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Shh, I still love you. I would never stop loving you. No matter the time we spend apart or the distance between us, you’re in my heart forever, yawne.”

He always knew the right things to say, it made your heart swell and warmth fill your body. Neteyam could make the worst situations feel okay. "I-I," Neteyam placed a hand over his heart, "you don’t need to say anything to me, I've upset you." You sniffled "I still love you too," Neteyam released a deep breath, his face turning stern once more. “Let me prove to you how much I care about you.”

It took minutes before you were laid out on the sand, your pants long discarded. Neteyam had your legs over his shoulders, devouring you. Your toes curled against the cool beach as the wind blew through your hair, the breeze from the water chilling the heat radiating off of you. It was a new sensation, his tongue rubbing circles around your clit. The feeling was foreign and intense, sending jolts throughout your body.

Your hips bucked as his fingers prodded at your entrance, forcing all three inside as an attempt to stretch you more. Neteyam growled in response, the noise sending vibrations throughout your core. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling against the top of you to press into the soft spongy spot that had you crying out. Neteyam lapped at the wetness leaking out of you, drinking up every single drop of you.

His eyes met yours, you felt as if the whole world was spinning, a euphoric feeling bubbling inside you, building and building. Neteyam's tongue pressed against your clit once more and you felt the orgasm ripple through you, your walls contracting against his fingers and squeezing them. The pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn't do much but writhe and cry out as Neteyam brought you down from your high, licking you clean of your mess.

He pulled away and you whined at the loss of his body heat, until you heard the sounds of his loincloth falling to the ground. You pulled your head up off the ground and gasped, he was large, incredibly too large for you. His tip was a bruising purple, shining with precum. Your eyes nearly burst out of your skull, it looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. “T-teyam-”

Neteyam climbed on top of you, shushing you with his finger. “I’ll be gentle I promise,” he purred, his hand snaking down to his tip, rubbing the sticky liquid around the head before placing himself at your entrance. “I’m gonna claim you, mark you with my scent so no one else fucking touches you.” The head of his cock prodded at your entrance and the pressure was intense, your walls achingly slow stretching to fit him. "I can't," Neteyam pushed the head of his cock into you, forcing a choked cry from your lips. “Shh, just be a good girl for me.”

It hurt, yet it felt good in the most bizarre way, a tingling sensation shooting through your body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside you. “Oh ewya, you’re so fucking tiny, baby girl,” he groaned as he pushed deeper. His cock was stretching your walls, the pain slowly disappearing as you grew used to his size. You could feel him against the very base of your cervix, his hips pressing flush against your thighs. “F-f-fuck,” you choked out in a choked whimper, trying to get accustomed to his girth and length, it had to be the size of your forearm at least.

Neteyam began to pump into you slowly, giving you a few seconds to adjust to his length before snapping his hips and forcing the air out of your lungs, causing you to scream and arch your back. You couldn't believe the noises coming out of your own mouth, the moans and cries echoing around the beach. Neteyam moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you.

He used one of his large hands to press against your stomach, feeling his cock move inside of you. “You feel that, yawne?I can feel myself moving inside of you. Fuck, you're so perfect, sweetheart, taking all of me inside you.” He hissed as his movements got faster and more erratic. The feeling was indescribable, the mixture of pain and pleasure that had your head spinning and mind hazy.

Neteyam couldn’t fit all of himself in you no matter how hard he tried, he settled for slamming into the top of your cervix, forcing a scream from your lips. He hoped everyone could hear you screaming his name from miles away. “You like that, baby?” Neteyam growled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, clawing at his shoulders. “Ssyes teyam, sgood,” you slurred your words, feeling the waves of euphoria begin to roll inside of you again.

His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Teyam, p-please. Please!" You stuttered between moans and whimpers. Neteyam wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing softly. "That’s my girl,” his praise made you whimper for more. His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. "Louder, yawne. Everyone has to know you’re all mine," he growled into your ear, putting emphasis on 'mine’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him.

Neteyam removed his hand from your neck, wrapping his arm underneath your legs, spreading them as far as they could go and angling you so that he hit the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you, pounding against it rapidly. Your vision started to turn blurry and you felt yourself begin to fall over the edge again, a new kind of wave washing over you, “F-Fuck! Tey- teyam- please in for me!"

Your cunt clamped down around him, forcing Neteyam to cry out, his thrusts becoming shallow and erratic. You could feel Neteyam release inside of you, ropes of hot cum filling your insides, mixing with your own fluids.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby pulled you both out of your haze, “Neteyam!” Jake’s booking voice echoed around the beach. Both of your heads shot to the left, staring at the mortified father whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The walk of shame you both endured was the most humiliating moment of your entire life. It was an excruciating silent trip back home but at the very least Jake waited until you boarded the helicopter, with a traumatized look on his face, before he called your mother. Without a doubt he told Neytiri soon after and you could only imagine her utter rage. Norm and Max said nothing, opting to stare out the window and dissociate from the entire situation completely. You were extremely grateful for their silence.

You couldn’t imagine the scolding he was about to receive, the punishment he was going to endure. Your mom, although mortified, let you off the hook easily. No avatar for another month, and no Neteyam for the rest of eternity. That one hurt, you felt the same soul crushing despair as you did when he first left.

On the other side of Pandora Neteyam remained completely unphased. He took the yelling, the punishment and everything else like a strong man. In the end he had won, you were covered in his scent and no one was going to touch you again. As for your future together? He had a plan for that too. Neteyam had already practically mated with you no matter what his mother said and once you’re in that new body, he would run away and do it again.

You may not realize it yet but he was coming back for you. One way or another you were going to come to the reef with him, be a part of his family, bear his children, and never ever leave his side again. Even if it meant disappointing his parents one final time, but he had hope in Ewya that would not be the case.

[zoesmp4]

STUPID “love makes you stupid.” carl grimes x walsh!reader

tags: angst, some fluff, violence, blood, 6x9

a/n: omg this req was SO good i am sosososo sorry i couldn’t execute it properly 😭 im not so proud of this one, but i hope its ok!! 

you and carl grimes had been best friends ever since you could walk. you both met when your dad brought you to "bring your kid to work day" down at the station. the scent of coffee and the echo of footsteps filled the air.

it started to seem extremely boring, until a stranger approached you and your dad. you saw a little boy standing next to him, and felt a little less lonely. the man recognized you, though you had no idea who he was. "hi there y/n, this is carl." he introduced.

ever since then, you guys were inseparable. you and carl had a bond which was special, it was like no other. you could be yourself around him, and you could tell carl felt the same. the ease, the comfort, like you didn't have to pretend to be anyone else when you were together.

as expected, seeing him for the first time after the apocalypse started unleashed a unique wave of relief within you. you vividly recall the both of you making eye contact and running toward each other. you hugged each other tightly, as if you'd been separated for years.

"i was so scared!" you said, clutching your doll in your hand. "you don't need to be scared anymore," he reassured. "i'm here to protect you." carl loved to be your knight in shining armor, even when you were young.

through all the dark days, and as you both grew older, you two had always been there for each other. no matter whatever crap life threw at you, you guys stuck together. walker got too close to you? dead.

"i would never let anything happen to you. don't worry." he would always say. he was your closest friend, your ride or die. growing up was hard enough during the apocalypse, but having each other made it bearable.

however, as time passed, you started to feel a different way towards him. you started to feel as if things wouldn't be so bad if you guys were more than friends. actually, it was starting to seem like it was all you could dream of.

you thought it was just a one time thing, but you were dumb to think so. you often found yourself blushing at the thought of him, and when he had caught you daydreaming, let's just say he was curious.

"come on, why can't you just tell me who you like?" he asked, growing more agitated by the second. "shut up, i don't like anyone." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "bullshit, tell me who it is." he said, looking you in the eye, a grin plastered onto his pretty face.

"nope!" you replied, popping the "p."

carl grimes had stolen your heart, and there was no doubt about it. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger, it was quite obvious when you would stress whenever he got the tiniest injury.

"calm down, it's just a cut." "do you ever shut up?" you would say, reaching for the bandaids on the top shelves of your room. "it's really not as bad as it looks." you knew he was telling the truth, it was never that serious. however, you being you, you couldn't help but worry. 

but now? now it was actually serious. too serious. you felt the panic start to sink in the second you saw ron, a vengeful look on his face, pointing a gun in rick's direction. you froze when you realized who was in standing front of him. it was carl. your carl.

"you." ron said. your heart pounded against your ribs. your breaths were shallow and rapid, as a wave of terror gripped you. surely he wouldn't actually shoot. right? so many possibilities were going through your head at once, it was the worst thing you ever experienced.

fortunately, michonne came in a flash. you jumped slightly when her katana pierced through ron's skin. atleast it was all over now though. rick was alright. carl was alright.

or so you thought.

BANG!

his stupid fucking finger slipped. 

all of your negative thoughts came flooding back into your mind the moment the sound of the gunshot hit your eardrums. however, among all of your worries, there was one most prominent. where did the bullet go?

your eyes darted around before your gaze landed on carl. he had his head down, and when he looked up, it felt as if all the air in your lungs had been sucked out of your body. "dad?" he whimpered out.

he had been shot. in the head. directly into his eyesocket. the amount of blood flowing down his face made you sick to your stomach. it was only a matter of seconds before his body went limp and fell to the ground.

you never knew it was possible to feel this angry. there was no way in hell that just happened, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. it should've been you.

your facial expression contorted into one showing pure horror and anxiety. your eyes widened, tears at the rim, threatening to fall out. you breathed heavily, as you felt anguish and rage twist within you. rick lifted carl into his arms and carried him. that was your cue to pull out your knife.

you and michonne ran in front of rick and carl, killing walkers one by one. you were going ballistic, slashing every walker you possibly could, grunts escaping your mouth with every stab. you were going on a rampage, you weren't even thinking, you were just so enraged. how could you have let that happen to him?

blood splattered across your face, but you barely even noticed. hot tears streamed down your cheeks. each drop carried the weight of frustration and sorrow, their salty taste bitter on your lips. your body started to grow tired, but you kept pushing. dozens of walkers were laying on the ground.

now, the focus was getting carl help. and that's what you wanted. but you just couldn't stop. you were about to plunge your bloody knife into yet another walker, but michonne caught your arm in mid-air.

"that's enough." she said. she noticed how your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, and the way you looked like you wanted to watch the world burn.

she took the knife from your grasp before putting her hand around your shoulder for a few seconds to calm you down. "we have to hurry." she continued to kill every walker in her sight, one by one. you didn't care that your body hurt like hell, you didn't care about all the blood splattered onto you, you didn't care that you were exhausted.

the only thing you cared about was carl. would he be okay? was this the end? were you gonna lose your other half? your heart ached. you weren't even gonna get to tell him how you felt about him.

after what seemed like hours of running and fighting, you found yourself laying down in the infirmary bed next to carl's. he'd been patched up before you. he was sleeping, and you were glad he was getting the rest he needed.

but every time you looked at him, your chest tightened. he should've never even have to be here. he should've never had to go through that, ever.

daryl had a chair pulled up next to your bed. he was like a father figure to you after shane died. he sighed, wiping your now crimson splattered arms with a wet rag to clean off the blood. "y' used the knife i gave you?" he said, not looking up from your arm. "yeah, it's the best i have."

the silence in the room was so loud. it's not that he was disappointed in you, he was proud you were able to defend yourself. it was the fact that you could've died and you still kept pushing that made him so quiet. he cared about you a lot, and he knew you didn't have to fight so hard, especially at your age.

"why'd you do that?" he asks, finally making eye contact with you. you let out a breath before opening your mouth to speak, "love makes you stupid."

it felt nice, to finally be able to talk to someone about your feelings for the blue eyed boy. after all, you were never gonna tell him, so atleast you could tell someone. "damn right it does." he replied, before lighty ruffling your hair. 

"get some sleep, okay kiddo?" daryl said, wiping the last of the blood off your arms. "yeah, jus- please don't te-" "i won't tell a soul." he cut you off, already knowing what you were gonna ask of him. "thanks." you said, smiling.

little did you know, daryl wasn't the only person who heard your late night confession. a "sleeping" carl stirred in his bed, now facing the wall in the opposite direction of you. perhaps it was the exhaustion getting to you, but you could've sworn you heard a light chuckle.

[identityua]

Can I have Venti, Focalors and Ei dating hcs?

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DATING THE GENSHIN ARCHONS.

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PAIRINGS: Ei & Furina x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of death (Makoto). Me completely bullshitting everything about Focalors, since we have practically nothing to go off of. Tooth-rotting fluff as well! TAGS: Romance, kisses here and there, maybe even cuddles, pda, possessive behaviour (only a tad and mostly on Focalors), kinda sad, but also nice.

(I didn't write for Venti sorryyy)

EI

• The only way for your relationship to develop is already after the decree, because well, she was absent during it. Which means you don't have to put up with the awkward Shogun puppet, and actually hang out with Ei herself! • Let's start off with the fact that the electro archon is pretty much, entirely clueless about the whole romance thing. Unlike the other archon on this list, who has some idea of it either due to experience or media, this one spent thousands of years isolated. So let's be honest, you are going to need a lot of patience and skill to guide her into the playing field.

• In the first stages of your relationship things would be awkward, maybe even embarrassing. Baal wouldn't know how to react to your advances. Attempting even a simple peck on the cheek, would result in a confused:

"What are you doing, may I ask? A kiss, hm... It feels uncomfortably wet."

• Despite the lack of intimate knowledge, she will try her best with you. Because you are one of the most important things to her, you make her feel warm and secure, something Ei hasn't experienced in a long while. She will just have to put up and learn with you "interesting human antics."

• I hope you have a good dentist. The electro archon has an extremely sweet tooth, and in addition she has a whole array of servants and cooks at her disposal. Pretty much every date/hangout will consist of consuming copious amounts of sugar at one point or another.

• She doesn't really understand that humans need nutrition in different forms, not only sweet mochi and dango. So either try to explain that to her or... eat some protein beforehand.

• Being around Ei is calming. Whether you are an active or a quiet person, somehow her presence just balances everything out inside of you. Messy thoughts turn silky smooth, as just her soothing voice is enough to make you forget your troubles. Who needs a therapist when you have the electro archon?

• While you get to enjoy the tranquility that comes with being in her gentle company, sadly for Ei it is the exact opposite.

• Don't get me wrong, she loves spending time with you but... Ei just cannot shake off the sticky feeling that comes with it. You are a mortal, and mortals die. Their lifespans are short and often insignificant, little flickering candles that die out in a moment compared to how long she has lived.

• The thought simmers inside of her with each passing day, painfully reminding her of what she has felt when Makoto passed. Thoughts of eternity are mixed into this painful concoction as she wonders, has she made the right decision?

• However the archon is wise. She is a deity that has lived for many a millennia, and remembers the lessons she has learned through healing and self-discovery. The precious moments in life will hold no meaning If she staggers their flow. What matters is the now, she will worry about the later when it comes.

• Your relationship is neither public or private, because she doesn't exactly care If anybody knows. If danger is to come for you, because somebody with malicious intentions finds out you are affiliated with her -- Ei can protect you, no doubt about it. So it doesn't truly matter If somebody is aware of it or not. I would worry about Miko finding out, which she of course will, because that kitsune will not ever stop teasing the both of you about it.

• The one to think about marriage the least. It's not in the cards for either of you, and as she is slowly letting go of the idea of eternity, the symbol of "eternal love" can be a bit too ironic.

• Overall, a relationship with her is the exact opposite of the one with Furina. It is calm, secure, and loving, everything that a wounded soul like her would need to heal and keep on living. You are the light of her days, and no matter how fleeting, Ei will cherish every memory made together.

FURINA

• You know how the traveller is considered to be the saviour of many nations, due to their heroic acts? Saving cities from destruction and stuff, and how their journeys are super dangerous? Well, you made their job 10 times more difficult. Because Furina's act just went up by a mile.

• The citizens of the city of Justice simply cannot be happier that you exist, because around you, their beloved Lady puts on an even better, grand performance (in hopes of impressing you.)

• Chief Justice, however? Pray for him and his nerves.

• As long as you are present beside her in court, she tends to be in a better mood during the trials, even the ones she would normally consider boring. After all, how can she be bored If her precious mortal is right by her side?

• At the same time however, her emotions are bursting out of her, with you around. Yes she is in a better mood and more agreeable to compromise, but this drama queen cannot hold back from showing off in front on her partner. You are the only one who can influence her. So, you have to physically sit her down, and your conversations during trial are often something along the lines of:

“In my holy opinion, you are utmost guilty!”

“Love, he just asked a question, let’s not make assumptions just yet.”

“UGH, fine🙄”

• Will make comments during trials that are guaranteed to be the foulest roasts you have ever heard. The entire time you two are just trash-talking everyone, gossiping like high-schoolers.

• The hydro archon cannot get enough of you, but she is highly inexperienced in relationships. Therefore she will be flustered to initiate anything, but will brush it off with a mocking laugh. She adores acting all high and mighty, like you are lucky to even be around her (It’s the other way around). However If you were the one to touch her out of nowhere, she would practically melt, trying her best not to cling onto you like a koala.

• (Sometimes however, she does cling like a koala.)

• PDA is a bit iffy, because she does get extremely flustered, but she wants everybody; and I mean everybody to know that you are hers. So the Lady Justice will sit there, head up high with pride, blush all over her face, boasting about how she is the best of archons and of course has the best partner. Kiss her on the cheek and watch steam come out of her ears.

• Lady Furina is the type to say “Eyes on me” to her partner, but not in a suggestive way, no. She just wants yours undivided attention, and will get annoyed If she can’t have it 24/7. Please for the love of everything, set boundaries with her. She is a being that has lived for hundreds of years, she has no idea what that is.

• Kisses with her are a bit awkward, stiff even. She would never allow for them in public (only on the cheek is okay, since she prefers not to get too flustered). Which means they would be intimately shared only between the two of you. Furina would drop the act ever so slightly, her truthful nature slipping out. The scared of rejection, terrified of losing you nature, which she hides underneath so many covers of her flamboyant personality. Perhaps, this vulnerability is what makes her kisses so emotional and so very her.

• Despite the fact that she can be a bit much, she tries to be as caring as possible around you. As someone who spends days and days analysing criminals, she picks up on behavioural patterns very easily. Therefore, as soon as you are upset, she is on the case, looking for a way to get you smiling again. She will drop anything and everything to be at your side If you need her, because you are just that important to her.

• However having said that, she is not the best at picking her words sometimes. Furina can be a little offensive with her comments, so just let her know it bothers you. After all she does care for you, and would hate having you hurt.

• Will not apologize. Unless she has tremendously fucked up, don't expect any verbal apology. Focalors is like Slavic parents, instead of saying “I’m sorry”, she will bring you a gift and tell you to stop sulking. After all, she’s the god of Justice, she’s not used to being wrong.

• The one archon out of all in Teyvat to think about marriage the most. I mean she is the holy deity and persona number one in her own court, she can arrange that whenever and however she wants. As your relationship progresses, Furina finds herself daydreaming about you and her having a majestic wedding. The thought makes her giddy with excitement.

• Dates with this archon are spontaneous, and are probably the most unique you have had in your life. I mean, who else would take you sightseeing into the abyss? Yeah, only this one.

• Can be a Karen to service workers whenever you go to restaurants. Don’t let her, or she’ll never stop.

• Overall, being in a relationship with Focalors is spontaneous, fun and lively. Never a dull moment with her, but she can be overbearing and a bit clueless. Have patience for her, she does truly love you after all, as much as a deity can.

+

• Catching Focalors’s attention in the first place is not that difficult, for one reason. Yes, she seeks constant entertainment and you would think that she needs a jester for a partner to keep her in a relationship. But due to her tendencies and the fact that everyone only adores her for the dramatics she puts on, she can get quite lonely.

• No one really knows or understands the hydro archon for who she is, therefore she is terrified of slipping up, making a mistake, showing any sign that she isn't all mighty and all knowing.

• So If you manage to see past that façade, and not make fun of her for it? Take her heart, It's already yours.

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

Fic Friday (47)

Title: Liberation

Author: @starwalker42

Word Count: 1708

AO3 Description: Maybe they've given up with her, left her to die. Scully finds herself almost hoping that's the case: no more questions, no more fear.

My thoughts: Scully-in-peril and then some hurt/comfort is my kryptonite. I will just devour any and all fics with this trope. However, this one is a favorite that I come back to when I want to scratch that itch. The writing really makes you feel Scully's fear but also her relief when Mulder finds her. The ending is extremely sweet, too.

Enjoy! Tagging @today-in-fic

[saphhhiree]

solitary embers:

the deadly dance of the jack of hearts.

a/n: chishiya x flirty!clever!reader. this is during the solitary confinement game that’s played in season two! my first fanfic on here…. i’m trying my hardest LOL. anyway… list of flirting from the reader, chishiya definitely “hates” it. erm ya this will be a series with smut at some point enjoy!!! also.. i don’t remember like anyone’s name except for urumi, banda and obi

within the dark confines of teio prison, another sinister game of life and death began—the jack of hearts. each player wore a collar with a hidden card suit on the back, and the challenge was to deduce their own symbol without the aid of mirrors or reflective surfaces. the stakes were high, and the players' lives hinged on their ability to trust others to unravel the mysteries of their collars.

amidst the tension and uncertainty, you found yourself in a large room with 19 other players, including chishiya shuntaro, a master strategist that you played with during the game of tag. “chishiya!” you called out, relief washing over you seeing that at least you weren’t alone, you knew chishiya, he’s smart. you needed him on your side for this game specifically. he softly nodded in your direction.

as the hour of free roam began, players scattered across the prison, forming alliances in their quest for survival. you observed the interactions among the others, trying to discern who might be a trustworthy ally and who could be the elusive jack of hearts. soon you cautiously ventured into the prison grounds, your heart pounding with anxiety. the atmosphere was tense, and the sense of isolation weighed heavily on your shoulders. a large monitor displayed the faces of your fellow participants, a haunting reminder of the deadly stakes. as you continued your exploration, you spotted chishiya, he appeared deep in thought, you followed his gaze that was fixated on the same monitor. a part of you wished you could approach him, hoping that his keen mind might offer valuable insights. however, you hesitated, unsure if he would welcome any intrusion. you soon found the snack area, looked around at the large amount snacks and water provided. it seemed the prison authorities were intent on making this a long-lasting ordeal. the realization that this game could continue for what seems like forever only added to the weight on your shoulders. as you continued you search you wound up back in the main room, chishiya still there. you weren’t close in any means, but the shared experience of one game together meant you could trust eachother on a surface level.

"hey, have you figured out your symbol?" urumi asked, approaching you with a weirdly big grin. "um not yet," you replied, trying to keep your nerves in check. "but i’m working on it." you flashed two quick thumbs up with a sarcastic smile on your face. chishiya stood against a wall nearby, listening to the exchange silently. he glanced at you and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "are you okay?" you offered a small nod, appreciating the unspoken support. you walked over to him,“chishiya.. have you noticed anything that could help us?” you asked, his eyes met yours, he smirked briefly and stated “observation is key. we have pay attention to even the smallest details.” youre curiosity piqued, you winked and leaned in his ear, making it look like you had something extremely important to say, “well, chishiya, i’ve done some observing, and i’ve deducted that you’re one of the most intriguing details about this whole place… i can’t help wonder what’s lurking behind those mysterious eyes..” you leaned back against the way a slight smile on your face. his lips twitched, finding it hard to suppress a smirk as the lightest shade of red dusted his ears and cheeks. “you know, flattery won’t get us out of here.” he turned his head as he spoke, thankful that it’s slightly dim in the room. “ah but it never hurts, does it chishiya? besides, we could all die tomorrow, why not have some fun?” you turned your head to meet his gaze, shrugging as you spoke. “let’s just focus on the game.” he couldn’t read you, were you being serious? or just trying to lighten the mood? or both?? “aw i promise not to distract you too much” you sarcastically spoke, he ignored you, and looked at the the groups trying to observe them without thinking about what you just said.

as the minutes dwindled, everyone walked to find their chosen confinements to say their card suit. you and chishiya slowly made your way to the cells, walking side by side. "i can't help but feel that this game is designed to sow distrust among us," chishiya said, his voice low but steady. you nodded in agreement. "of course our resident genius knows what to do, i get it, it's all about survival. we can't let ourselves get too comfortable with anyone." he rolled his eyes at the first part of your sentence, “let me say it again, flattery won’t get us out of here, y/n” you giggled a little bit side eyeing him. he intrigued you, it felt like forever ago since you guys played tag with usagi and arisu. you couldn’t hide the fact that he piqued your interest that night, watching from afar from the highest floor, then pulling out a homemade taser??? you wanted to break his shell. figure out if his quiet exterior hid a deeper level of insight and emotion. a voiced chimed to let the players know they should retreat to their cells as they had five minutes left. both slowly approaching your cells, you asked, “i can trust you right ?” and turned around. with a subtle gesture, chishiya reached out and lifted your hair, fingers brushing against you neck leaving a trail of goosebumps down your spine. your heart skipped a beat, you found him attractive yea, and this had to be done in order for you to make it to the next round, but you couldn’t help feel soothed by his electrifying touch, a tender twinge of intimacy in the midst of a deadly game. he pretty much read your mind, “i’m sorry, it’s the only way” he murmured, voice soft and hesitant, almost as if he wanted to explain the touch. he leaned in close to you, his warm breath grazing your ear, “hearts.” you bit your lip, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “thank you.” you whispered back, all the confidence you had when flirting with him previously gone. grateful for the moment of trust. you turned back around facing him, “well mr. mysterious, it’s only fair if i tell you yours..” you tried being playful to ignore the fact you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. he took off his hood, “spades.” you said as he turned back around. he nodded, a silent gesture that was still appreciated.

you entered the cell, as it seemed to hold its breath as you waited for the prompt to give your answer. mind still flustered from the earlier interaction, “hearts.” moments later, a soft click echoed through the cell, confirming your answer was correct.

RAHHHH!!!!!

i will work on pt2 soon! i hope you guys liked it. still working on writing n stuff.. sorry if any of this is ooc!!! enjoy the rest of your day/night :)

PART TWO IS OUT!!

[aphroditelovesu]

Hello, can I please request general headcanons for a (romantic) either Yandere Jason Grace x reader or Yandere Percy Jackson x reader? Thanks!

''I know I can be scary sometimes, but I want you to know that I would never hurt you.'' — Percy Jackson.

❝ 🌊 — lady l: I made it from Percy, because I already wrote a general headcanon with Jason, you can read it by clicking on one of the tags below. I changed the way the structure of the headcanons looks a bit, with a phrase above. What do you think? Hope you like it and good reading! Sorry for any mistakes. :)

❝tw: yandere themes, obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of murder, implied torture, unhealthy relationships, mention of kidnapping and blood.

❝pairing: yandere!percy jackson x gender neutral!reader

Percy Jackson is your biggest admirer, your best friend and confidant. Everyone knows he's reliable and everyone sees them as a great friend, but maybe it's time to look a little closer look. If you take a closer look, maybe he's not what everyone says he is. The glares and hate-filled glares at anyone who comes near his darling is somewhat revealing in his behavior.

He knows that the feelings he has for you are wrong, that the morbid thoughts that come to his mind all the time are disturbing, but even so, even knowing all of this, Percy can't stay away from you. He ignores every warning he gives himself, he just can't stay away from you.

Percy wants to be your best friend, your lover and more and he will stop at nothing to make those wishes come true. It is very common to see him always at your side or with at least one eye on you. He fears for you. What if you get hurt? What if you get kidnapped? What if you get killed by a monster? He can't let any of that happen to you, so he'll make sure you're with him at all times.

He won't admit it to anyone, but Percy craves your approval and attention. The demigod lives for your compliments or your bright smiles, he doesn't care if he has to get hurt to get your attention back to him, all that matters in the end is you. And only you.

Percy is extremely loyal to his friends and family, it's nothing new that he would die and kill to protect them, but after meeting you, he'd get rid of them all if you asked. From the moment he laid eyes on you, you became the center of his world. They have become nothing compared to you. They are nothing compared to you.

To say he is overprotective of you is a huge understatement, Percy will go to extreme lengths when it comes to your safety. He goes crazy with worry when he sees a single scratch on your skin, a scratch he knows shouldn't be there. He doesn't care if you're a child of Ares, for example, he won't overlook even the smallest bruise made on your skin. First he will take care of that wound, he would make sure it heals properly and after he makes sure you are safe, he will go after whoever caused it. Jackson will not rest until the one who inflicted his scar is dead. He's your protector and he can't let anyone who hurts you get away with it.

Percy is known for his sarcasm and intelligence, sometimes even being a little moody which makes him a bit difficult to deal with at times, but when you combine these traits with his yandere side there's nothing good that will come out of it. He has difficulty dealing with anger and can become troublesome at times. He will quickly fly into a rage if he sees someone disrespecting you or if they have been staring at you longer than he deems necessary. He will go to the lengths of making personal threats and, if those threats don't work, he will have to take matters into his own hands. Percy doesn't mind getting blood on his hands for you.

He is very jealous, often becoming possessive of his darling. He tries, however, to be subtle about it. He doesn't like to be jealous, he knows he shouldn't be jealous after all he is Percy Jackson, a proud son of Poseidon and he knows he doesn't have to feel that way but he does because you are his whole world and he is very afraid of losing you. Something that not many people know is that he is quite insecure when it comes to relationships and he loves you very much, he cares for you more than he ever cared for anyone else and just the thought of you leaving him for someone else drives him insane with jealousy and when he feels this way, Percy will cling to you more than he ever has, becoming clingy and questioning you repeatedly if you really love him.

On quests, Percy will always accompany you, whether you like it or not. For him being extremely protective of you, this is something that both hinders and helps you, because you don't remember any monster being able to even touch a strand of your hair but also he is suffocating when it comes to your safety, going as far as point of being overbearing and being adamant about keeping you out of harm's way. He won't hesitate to send you away if the situation gets out of control, he knows you'll be mad at him but he won't care after seeing you safe and alive. All the possible curses you throw at him are ignored by him, since he's more focused on looking at you lovingly.

He is a very dedicated and attentive boyfriend, in every moment of your life, he will be present. In addition to being loyal and protective, Percy will always make you feel special because you are special and he won't make you feel anything less than the most loved person in the world. Expect to receive lots of treats from your demigod, from gifts that came from the sea to absurd things right away (but never ask him how he managed to buy them), he knows that you deserve the best and the best you will receive.

Percy is extremely insightful when he wants to be and he is with you. There is nothing that escapes his keen eyes when it comes to you, the son of Poseidon will always know where you are and who you are with at Camp Half-Blood. He is very popular and that has its advantages, everything you do will have his permission and double attention. If you complain to him about it, he will just tell you that: ''it's for your own safety''. His protective behavior is suffocating and the clingy way he acts towards you leaves you unsettled, even more so when he makes subtle threats to you about hurting your friends. He says he'll never hurt you, but you know that doesn't apply to other demigods.

Some say he is one of the greatest, if not the greatest, heroes that ever lived and they are right. Percy Jackson is courageous and possesses all the qualities that make him a hero and feats that may even be greater than Hercules ever did. He's fun, popular and protective, what's not to like about him? The most sensible answer would be: nothing. But you know that's not true, you know very well Percy's obsessive and possessive behavior towards you, the way he behaves when someone gets too close to you, his crazed jealousy and the threats he makes when he thinks no one is hearing this. You know all this but still find yourself unable to leave him, but even if you wanted to leave him, you couldn't, Percy would always find you.

[shenenenigans]

FILE A-1226 | SUBJECT 020798

THREAT LEVEL: High

STATUS: ???

020798 has been found sneaking into segyein only rooms and stealing numerous files and records. She has also caused harm to multiple workers in the infirmary by subjecting them to extremely hazardous elixirs on multiple occasions. She has done this either by injections in their sleep or by “gifting” the workers juice which they drank unaware of the poison. This has unfortunately gone under our radar until the day of her departure.

020798 also tried to kill one of her nurses, Ambys, a former interviewer who worked on Incident 8-625 in the 39th ANAKT Garden. Cameras show 020798 hitting Ambys in the back of the head with her IV stand before proceeding to stab him directly in his chest with an unknown object. She looks to have dug deep into his body, removing his heart. She collects many blood samples from him, then throws her unidentified weapon at the camera allowing her to escape with no witnesses.

From gathering evidence, it seems that she had made a makeshift laboratory for herself in an old closet where she created a serum out of the blood she collected from Ambys. We are not sure what she was hoping to make of it.

Ambys cannot die. We are sure 020798 was aware of this information, as most of the files she stole were about him.

020798 left a camera on nearby her laboratory, where she smiled into the lens and waved. We can also see Ambys steadily regaining control of his body, which is due to his species being able to regenerate any part of the body after a short amount of time. 020798 must have removed his heart in hopes of slowing him down.

Ambys and 020798 had a fight in her laboratory where Ambys tried to restrain her. She was quite violent and acted very out of character. She is seen injecting herself with the serum she made and becoming more aggressive after being injected. Black veins circled around the site of injection. Her nails also became stained black.

Ambys slammed her against the wall, breaking her collar, and holding her by the head.

020798 thrashed about before her head was violently torn off. Another student had walked in after the incident occurred, and he was dealt with accordingly.

We are sure that 020798 is dead. However, when her body was transferred to a holding room, after 24 hours, it was missing. We do not know what happened during that time.

Ambys visited 020798’s body within those 24 hours, but refuses to talk about the situation.

In short: 020798 is dangerous and most likely deceased. We will not label her as missing and instead hide this event from the other students by reporting her death as a surgical accident.

If 020798 is still, in fact, alive: please do not be alarmed. She will not survive more than one week.

020798 deceived us all. We thought she was a sweet, kind girl at heart. This is her true nature. Do not be fooled in the future. There will be incidents like this again if we do not keep close watch.

Other notes:

Ambys will not be punished for causing the death of a student. It was in self-defense.

If there are any future sightings of subject 020798, please report it to ANAKT Garden staff. We will only then proceed to search for her. We are still confident that she will not survive.

From now on, all infirmary staff will lock all doors before closing down for the night. We will now have night time surveillance.

020798 had also stolen files on herself. It is possible she found things she shouldn’t have.

We will now relocate the records into a secluded area.

tags! @bluemoonscape @4listr @starry-skiez @rockwgooglyeyes @aakaneeee @paradisedisconcert and also @apriciticreveries @pwippy and @nottoonedin ! for the last three im not sure if you wanted to be tagged since you only liked the post but i did it just in case… please let me know if i missed anyone! if i did, i apologize! you can also tell me if you want to be added here as well <3

[gatitties]

Just wondering but I would be pleased for you to write some platonic straw hat headcanons with a male s/o who had eaten a speed fruit that allows him to move at extreme high speeds but it also allows him to survive falls from heights and collisions that would kill a normal person and maybe to further explain this devil fruit I'm just gonna have to send a link here bc it's much more easy: https://shipoffools.fandom.com/wiki/Soku_Soku_no_Mi#Strengths_and_Weaknesses And about s/o's personality is that he's similar to sonic, quick witted, free-spirited and easy-going, and likes to go on adventures with the crew. although he has a short temper and is often impatient with slower things and at times he just likes to show off but also has a bit of an ego. Other than that, he is pretty much loyal to his friends and will protect his friends if they're in trouble.

─ Strawhats x male!reader (platonic)

─ Summary: just some headcannons about you being a menace to society most of the time

─ Warnings: none

Part two / Part three

I hope this is good enough 🫠

─ How you came into the life of this crew was curious…

─ You were just on a random island and you decided to go for a run, the problem is that you activated your fruit and you just fell down a ravine, luckily there was a ship right below.

─ You fell on top of poor Usopp who was working on some bombs for his slingshot, the poor boy just thought he was dead when he opened his eyes and was lying there looking at the sky.

─ But his mind began to work and luckily he didn't have much more than a few scratches and bruises, nothing serious, however his eyes bulged to see how you calmly got up, removing the splinters from your clothes, "HOW are you still alive?!" "It was a small fall, I wouldn't die for it, I'm sorry I wrecked whatever you were doing by the way."

─ And you just wanted to get out of there, but a sharp sword made you unable to go any further if you didn't want to be beheaded.

─ After some threats, some insults and hitting from Nami, you decided that you should at least fix the mess you've caused.

─ And you know, one thing leads to another and maybe they got attached to some of your ways while you were helping them, of course you did too but you wouldn't say it out loud.

─ You used to travel alone but now you have some friends to turn to if you have problems, Luffy doesn't ask for many requirements for you to be in the crew either.

─ And speaking of Luffy… he will be one of your greatest contributions so that you don't get bored, although Nami will scold you two because your tag game sometimes goes too far.

─ You will inevitably have a lot of arguments with Sanji at first, but he doesn't see you as an 'opponent' like Zoro.

─ Which leads to you being in arguments between these two, like you're the little brother and you have to choose one side or the other, "I'm telling you that he prefers to cook with me" "that's stupid, he always enjoys training with me" "Who would you rather go with?" "Franky"

─ And despite enjoying time with the two of them, Franky always had interesting things to look at, and you were trying to talk him out of it in order to make the ship go much faster, you know, speed is your thing after all.

─ "For the tenth time, no, I won't put those thrusters to go faster, it would waste a lot of energy" "I can give you that energy!"

─ The only moments of more tranquility that you have are with Brook, Robin and Nami, because normally you are someone a little restless when you are with your captain, however these three manage to bring out the calm that you can not have while playing.

─ You are also someone somewhat reckless who tends to underestimate the capabilities of your opponents, that's how your ego works sometimes and you end up wearing yourself out in battles to the point of exhaustion.

─ Chopper is always so worried, because he sees you bump into things while you run and you just go back to walking like nothing happened, "Time to get checked out!" "But yesterday you did it?" "I never know when you can get really hurt so it's daily check ups for you" "Oh come on…"

─ You are probably one of the youngest in the crew, so they will surely see you as someone to take care of and protect.

─ That doesn't mean that they don't know that you know how to take care of yourself, they trust you but whenever they can help you in your battles they do.

─ Usopp is probably the one to calm you down when before a fight the villain starts describing their evil plan or harsh life, "Just sum it up dammit, we don't care about your filthy life!" "P-please calm down, we don't need any more trouble with a guy like that…"

─ Something about you is that you don't give a shit about what people talk about you, but if it's towards someone you appreciate, you'll just lose it.

─ Jinbe is probably like a second father (or the father you never had), he is the one you feel the most respect for and the one you joke with the least, plus you like to learn some karate and you are a quick learner.

─ They all appreciate that you care about harmful comments or actions towards them, but they also won't let you kick a guy at 200 km/h for saying something bad about them, "Just let me hit them, they'll see how pretty the stars are if they don't die from the impact!" "You can't just go around hitting random people for giving us dirty looks!"

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

For the twst monster au if Yuu is a woman how would the staff and students first react to periods? (Also I love your writing and I hope you have a wonderful day.)

WARNING: Menstrual cycle discussion, blood mention, female!Yuu

Awww thank you! I'm glad I can keep entertaining everyone with my writing, and I hope you’re having a wonderful day too! QvQ

In a way I actually answered this question in this post with an AFAB Yuu, though I hadn’t done much in regards for those who have extremely painful cycles compared to others…which, by the way, cycles really shouldn’t be painful to the point of not being able to function at all. It’s best to talk to a specialized doctor about this, because there are ways to make it more bearable! Please make sure you’re taking care of yourselves. ;;3;;

So this will be a situation involving a fem!MC with a particularly bad cycle not that I’m projecting my own experiences here, no sir-e Bob! Under a read more just in case!

////

No matter how much fanfiction Yuu read, no one ever said that being transported to another world would be all sunshine and rainbows. Even less so when she found out she was literally the only human known in Twisted Wonderland’s existence—a fact that put an uncomfortable amount of attention on her as she tried her best to adjust to the strange world filled with magic and humanoid monsters alike. Thankfully—despite the rough start where Yuu got dragged into a mess caused by two of the monster students and their new chimera companion—she was grateful to have found a new friendship with Ace and Deuce (even after the latter finally started to relax after realizing she was a girl). It made things feel less…stressful, knowing she had friends she could talk to even as Jack and several other first year students joined their rag-tag group. She began to relax more…

And perhaps that’s why she found herself awake at 3:00 am, the growing discomfort in her lower back growing more and more intense. ‘Crap,’ she thought, carefully sliding out of bed to avoid disturbing Grim and making her way to the bathroom.

//

Grim grumbled sleepily as he woke up, wondering why he felt so cold before realizing that Yuu wasn’t next to him. “Mmrgh…Yuu, hurry up,” he mumbled, head drooping as he crawled his way deeper into the sheets where there was still some warmth. “’m cold…”

Thump!

“Fygah!?” he yelped, scrambling around before managing to poke his head out from beneath the covers. “What was that?”

In the bathroom across the hall, he could faintly hear sharp, quiet gasps of pain and whimpers.

“Yuu?” he called out, moving to climb out of bed…and pausing when he caught something in the glow of his ear flames: a small, dark stain that looked almost black against the white sheets. Worried by the strangely familiar smell, he climbed out of bed and made his way over to investigate the noise. He didn’t recognize the sounds, yet he recognized Yuu’s voice immediately. As he got closer, however, a new smell hit his nose that set his fur on edge. It was heavy, the sharp tang of copper making his nose twitch as dread filled him:

Blood.

“Yuu!!” he cried out loudly, bursting into the bathroom and rushing over to the collapsed human. “Yuu! What’s wrong?! What’s going on!?”

Her face was contorted in pain as she writhed on the ground, Yuu hissing and gasping as she clutched her gut. Tears streaming down her face, she could barely focus on Grim’s face as she said, “It…it hurts…it hurts!”

“D-Don’t worry, Yuu! I-I’ll go get help!” he told her, paws scrabbling at the wooden floorboards as he bolted for the phone Crowley had given them the other day. “Don’t you die on me!!”

//

Brr-brr-brr!!

Ace groaned as he buried his head under the pillow, trying to block out the noise and the bright light of his phone as it rang incessantly nearby. It wasn’t until it began ringing again that he reluctantly reached out and—dragging it under the pillow with him—held it up to his ear and mumbled a tired, “What do you want…?”

“ACE!!!! YUU’S DYING!!!!!!”

“Gyah!!”

THWUMP!!

“Ow!” Ace groaned, the sheer volume of Grim’s voice on the other end startling him enough to fall out of bed. His roommates—including Deuce—were awakened and complaining as he straightened up and said, “Grim? What the hell, dude, it’s almost four in the morning!”

“Ace! You and Deuce gotta get over here right now! Yuu’s in the bathroom in a lot of pain, and I smell blood! Lots of blood!!” Grim said, sounding panicked. “Hurry!!!”

“Wait, hold on! What do you mean Yuu’s hurt?” he asked, scrambling to his feet. “And what do you mean you smell blood?!”

“Ace? What’s going on with Yuu??” Deuce asked, getting to his hooves as quick as possible. “Is she okay!?”

“Hurry!!” Grim yowled before the line dropped.

“We gotta move!!” Ace said, immediately grabbing his clothes and throwing them on before bolting out of the room. “Hurry up, Deuce!”

“Hang on, Yuu! We’re coming!”

//

By the time they managed to get there, Yuu was now sitting on the floor with her back to the wall for support. Her face showed her exhaustion, Grim and the ghosts looking anxious and worried as she focused on breathing. “Yuu! What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?!” Deuce asked, a large first aid kit strapped to his back like saddle bags.

“Grim said you were bleeding,” Ace added, kneeling to get a closer look at her. The stench of blood was so thick that it set his fight or flight instincts into overdrive, yet he couldn’t see any obvious signs of injury. “Are you okay? Do we need to call a hospital?”

Yuu stared at them with tired eyes, the surprise on her face tinged with what looked like guilt as she shook her head. “No…no, I don’t need to go to the hospital,” she told them. “It’s not that serious. Do…you by chance, have any aspirin or something like that in those bags?”

“Apirin…? Uh…y-yeah, but…but what about the blood we’re smelling?” Deuce asked, one of his forehooves tapping the wooden floorboards anxiously before he stopped it. “No one bleeds that much unless they’re injured!”

At that her face flushed a deep red as her arms clutched at her middle again. “Well…not exactly,” she uttered quietly. “It’s…my monthly…”

“Monthly?” Ace repeated with a frown. “Monthly what?”

“…cycle…my monthly cycle…”

In that moment it finally clicked, Ace’s long rabbit ears immediately pulling back as he said, “Oh…oh! Jeez, is that all it was?”

“Eh?” Deuce uttered. “What’s going on?”

“Seriously, Deuce? I would’ve thought you’d have paid attention in biology class or something…anyway, are you sure you’re okay, Yuu?” Though his tone had been teasing at first, Ace’s concern was clear as day as he looked her in the eye. “Female monster cycles don’t normally smell this blood heavy.”

“I’m fine. This happens every month,” Yuu explained, reaching up to the sink and pulling herself—rather shakily—to her feet. “I’m lucky on the days when it doesn’t start and wake me up at three in the morning, let alone allows me to function properly on the first day or two.” With a tired sigh, she uttered, “I really didn’t think I’d be having this conversation with you guys though…”

“Yeah, well, Grim thought you were dying and called us,” Ace said. In a serious tone, however, he said, “You’ve got that medical exam with the researchers tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“I think you need to talk to them about this.”

“Ace, it’s fine-”

“Once in a while is one thing, but if this keeps happening every month to the point you’re barely able to do anything, isn’t it better to try and find a way to mitigate it rather than suffer through it?”

“He’s right, you know,” one of the ghosts said, sounding concerned. “When we were still alive, we had to take care of ourselves whenever we were hurt or sick. This cycle of yours doesn’t sound normal.”

“At least talk to them about it,” another ghost said gently. “You nearly scared the life back into us earlier!”

“Yeah. You’re our pal, and we’d hate to see you suffering,” the last ghost said.

“Fynaa…I still don’t know what’s going on, but you scared me, Yuu!” Grim scolded, though it was hard to not see the tears in his eyes as he stared up at her. “I thought you were dying…”

“Yuu…we really just want what’s best for you,” Deuce said. “Not just because you’re the only human, but because we care about you as our friend. So please…don’t just ignore it if you’re hurting. Okay…?”

For a long time, Yuu was silent, staring at everyone one by one…before slowly nodding. “…okay,” she said, tears forming in her eyes even as she smiled. “I’ll talk to them about it.”

“Good. Now…mind if we spend the night here? I’m too tired to run back to the dorm,” Ace grumbled with a sigh. “I think that’s enough chaos for one day.”

SLAM!!!

“Where is she?!” Crowley’s voice shrieked from the main entrance. “Is Yuu alright?!”

“…Grim…did you call the headmaster too?” Deuce muttered.

“…I panicked, okay!? I didn’t know who to call!”

////

And so, while we end on a comical note of Crowley freaking out over the research institutions, I’ve said it time and time again that these researchers will absolutely make sure that any concerns Yuu has will be addressed. After all, if they can find some way to enhance their quality of life, then that makes things all the better in the end!

It helps that, in this case, they literally get free health care as the only living human in Twisted Wonderland. Lucky! >:V

[thiccpersonality]

Forget Me Not

(Before you start reading: I must warn this is an extremely long fic, the word count coming in at 27,591 words. If you'd prefer to read it somewhere not on Tumblr, I posted it here on my AO3: My Story. However, if you enjoy reading fics as long as Pinocchio's lying nose, please enjoy! 💛)

Relationships:

Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne

Batfamily Members & Alfred Pennyworth

Clark Kent & Alfred Pennyworth

Diana (Wonder Woman) & Alfred Pennyworth

Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne

Diana (Wonder Woman) & Bruce Wayne

Diana (Wonder Woman) & Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne

Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne

Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne

Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne

Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne

Characters:

Alfred Pennyworth

Bruce Wayne

Clark Kent

Diana (Wonder Woman)

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Tim Drake (DCU)

Damian Wayne

Kate Kane (DCU)

Barbara Gordon

Stephanie Brown

Cassandra Cain

Ace the Bat-Hound (DCU)

Leslie Thompkins

Additional Tags:

Angst

Fluff and Angst

Fluff

Fluff and Humor

Family Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Hurt

Emotional Hurt

Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

Character Death

Death

Sickfic

Sick Character

Dementia

Old Age

Alfred Pennyworth is the Best

Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth

Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth

Good Parent Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne Loves Children

Bruce Wayne is Good With Kids

Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member

Alfred Pennyworth Needs a Hug

Bruce Needs a Hug

Everyone Needs A Hug

Hugs

Bruce Wayne Gets a Hug

Everyone Gets A Hug

It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better

Bittersweet Ending

Disease: a disorder of structure or function in a human, animal, or plant, especially one that has a known cause and a distinctive group of symptoms, signs, or anatomical changes.

Everyone should know why a disease would be a frightening ordeal to go through, it's something that usually spells death for the person or people who have it, it's like having a sickness but worse...almost as if the term itself is pre-warning those who are hearing of it that there is a high chance they will die. A disease is intimidating in many ways, there are some there is absolutely no cure for, some where you just have to hope and pray that the outcome won't be as bad as any other persons case that disease has gotten it's cold, suffocating tendrils on.

There is an uncertainty and fear that strikes through the heart of the victim or victims and their families when such news is relayed that a disease has taken root to the person, it plants an uncertainty in the soil of your heart like a little seed, quickly taking root and spreading anxiety and doubtfulness in the future to come for yourself or your loved one like a stubborn weed.

There are many kinds of diseases, but one that Bruce finds the most horrifying is the disease of one's mind, it can show up in multiple ways...he has seen it before: The psychopathy and delusions of the rogue gallery for one, the weariness and depression from the pain of one's life for another, something that can spread so quickly from one bad day that it changed their minds forever is something both fascinating and haunting. But the one disease of mind that scares Bruce the most are the ones that can remain unseen, most likely because the disease is being stubborn or perhaps it was too late?

All Bruce knows is that for him, his disease is death...or maybe it's the opposite way around?

Death always seemed to cling to Bruce as if he's it's only lifeline, which is absurd considering what death does, but sometimes that thought causes the man himself to wonder if death is just as tired of it's job as anyone else is? If it is just hoping to find someone who can cheat itself and prove that it's not a monster...at least not because it wants to be, but it has a job to do like anyone else, and sometimes there are people that have to do the dirty work, that have to take on a role that they know might make them hated beyond all reason.

Bruce should know that all too well, maybe that's why death clings to him like an insecure child seeking affirmation from an adult or loved one? Maybe it just sees him as a friend of sorts; it's confidant, someone who knows the ins and outs of how death operates and isn't scared by it or shies away from it, it knows he has come to terms with it and understands it...or has tried to.

That is one thing Bruce despises about himself; how he lies and tells himself that he's not afraid when deep down he's that eight-year-old boy in a bloody alleyway, the red clinging to his legs and hands like a second skin, the rain mixing with his tears as he sits alone and confused; his mind trying to process what just happened as his eyes frantically flutter between his mom and dad's now cold bodies.

So, yes, Bruce is well acquainted with death and disease, from too young an age one might add. He has seen sickness take ahold of his father's patients when younger and as stated before: he witnessed his parents death, and he has witnessed his own son Jason die alone and most likely scared. Bruce has seen death stretch out it's hand like an uncontrollable and incurable disease, hoping to claim another victim or reaching out as a cry for help...that he does not know, all he knows is that he is tired of death following him around like his own shadow, he is tired of it claiming the lives of everyone he loves without fail.

There have been moments where Bruce begged loudly for death to come for him instead, and it seems like whenever he has, it didn't work or moved on to someone else he knows as if it doesn't want to let him go, as if it's saying: "not you...not yet", trying it's hardest to keep the one person who is painfully familiar with it and who it recognizes just as much in return, though death may not quite realize just how much suffering it is putting it's "friend" through.

You see.

Bruce, just like death, has familiarized himself with the grandeur of delusion and the temporary peace or comfort it can bring. Thinking that if you can lie to yourself enough that everything and everyone is just fine, that you are fine and that you aren't slowly being driven insane by the back and forth death, as if you aren't slowly being eaten away by grief and sorrow...as if the people that you love and care for will continue to live another day because you think so, you've convinced yourself well enough because there was no other choice, it was either being delusional or you let the crushing weight of every death you've ever witnessed process in your mind and rip you apart like a dog with it's favorite chew toy.

Bruce had gotten so good at lying to himself that he believed one specific person would never die, at least not before he passed before that person: Alfred.

The tricky thing about grief and delusion is that they go hand in hand very well, sometimes peoples cause of grief is their delusions and for others their delusions are a cause of grief; two things Bruce has come to know very well.

Another thing is that they both can cause you to lie to yourself, sometimes very well, and when you have a grown man with repressed trauma, well, that is a dangerous cocktail for one to drink. Bruce deep down is that child in that alleyway...he never quite truly moved on from Thomas and Martha Wayne's deaths, that frightened little boy is still in him looking for someone to cling to, someone to lean on as a parental and mature adult figure...and who better than Alfred? The man has always been a shining star in Bruce's darkened world, something and someone to look forward to in his lowest moments, the man has always been so patient and put together whenever Bruce was at his worst that the boy was convinced Alfred had powers.

Ever since he could walk, Alfred was the person Bruce would follow to the earth and back again, and when the man stepped up after his parents died, that broken part of him clung to what was familiar and what he knew was something solid to lean on when the ground beneath him became sinking sand.

Because of that, Bruce never once thought of Alfred succumbing to any sort of disease, let alone death. He and death seemed to have a silent agreement on the other man: not Alfred, never Alfred...but it seems that it was only one of death's many tricks for Bruce. To make himself and his inner child hopeful that, if nothing else, at least he will always have Alfred by his side with his sharp mind and quick wit, always there to nag Bruce about his bad ways of living his life. He never thought the other would be one to fall to such sneaky tricks because, if nothing else, Alfred never has succumbed to such diseases of the mind or heart before.

But...

Bruce didn't realize how wrong he was until it was too late. Unaware that sometimes grief and heartbreak can sometimes take years to show in someone's heart or mind, clueless to the ways it festers like an unattended cut, causing worse of an injury than what you initially started out with. He didn't know that just like an unattended cut, that feelings can act just the same, building up overtime until it claims someone's life or leaves them with scars.

Or maybe he's just playing ignorant?

Bruce knows deep down that such things are true, but he is so used to lying to himself and pushing aside the truth of his feelings that sometimes he forgets to apply it to other people. He is sick and tired of dealing with death, especially when it comes to his family and friends, that he finds it easier to sacrifice his own life and well-being so that death never happens again in his family, not anymore.

But, death is one of the many things Bruce knows he doesn't have control over, especially not when he can't see it forming or coming. Not when it disguises itself so well that by the time you notice death take hold of someone, it's too late to do anything. Bruce thought that death and him had an understanding when it came to Alfred...but now he is left wondering if death found his situation hilarious or if it was left grieving just as he was.

And it all started slow and unassuming, like a thief in the night.

XXX

It was a surprisingly beautiful day in Gotham, the sun out to give a comforting amount of warmth while a cool breeze blows throughout the Wayne estate, the birds chirping happily in the trees as the bat-family sits outside to have a picnic together, Bruce smiling softly at all his family gathered together while soaking up the noise.

It's nice to be able to relax with his children and see them be young and free, even if it's just for a moment in time. Bruce appreciates his family for coming over as it's the anniversary of his parents death today...an occasion the man would usually choose to grieve alone with, the weather too bright and pleasant on such a sad morning, but Bruce finds himself not minding it today because it brought him his children. "Damian, how many times have I told you not to throw the water balloons below the belt?"

Bruce raises his brow at his youngest child over his shades while sipping at his lemonade, holding back his amused smirk at the boy turning to frown at him.

"I don't know? Probably one hundred and one times since we've come out to play. But I do not see the issue with it, father, in this war, anything is possible." Damian smirks at his dad in a way that has Bruce slightly concerned for his other children, but the moment is ruined by the boy sputtering as a balloon pop's against his head. "What miserable lowlife dared to hit me-" Damian shouts as he's pelted three times in the back with water balloons-"Cut it out you cretin! I swear on my grandfather's name that when I find who did that-" Bruce does his best to hold back his laughter when Tim and Steph interrupt the boy with more balloons to his face.

Conversation long forgotten at this point, Bruce just relaxes into his chair with a genuine smile as he watches Damian chase after the two teens, his heart growing warm when the boy chooses to tug Jason onto his team with the claim that despite the others mental and emotional setbacks, he proves to be well trained and physically capable.

Surprisingly, the older boy only pinches at Damian's face in retaliation before picking the boy up and running after their newfound "enemies" with the other on his shoulder. Bruce feels that fondness in his heart mix with the cold and familiar touch of grief and sadness at imagining his parents being here to witness this, from imagining if this would be the kinds of things he did with his own parents on sunny days. Bruce loosens his tense body and slowly allows himself to feel some of that pain, he must be having a rare good day, because any other time of day he would choose to focus on one or the other, but never both.

At the thought of his parents though, Bruce turns his head to look around for Alfred and frowns when he sees that the man hasn't come back outside yet, is the other just busy with housework or is he grieving too?

Bruce paused at the thought and looks back and forth between his laughing family and the sliding back door thoughtfully, he doesn't want to intrude on Alfred if the man is grieving in his own way, he actually isn't sure if he's ever seen the man cry properly at Thomas and Martha dying...but then again, he also isn't sure the nature of their relationship with each other and if they were even close. It does bother Bruce a bit to think that maybe Alfred and his parents weren't friends and that maybe they just stayed professional with each other, just because the man was willing to befriend the Wayne's child, it doesn't exactly mean he was willing to be friends with his employers.

Bruce makes his decision and stands up from his seat, shouting to his kids about how he'll be right back and chuckling as he's completely ignored by all of them.

Bruce slides open the door and inhales deeply at the scent coming from the kitchen, his feet automatically taking him to the source of the smell, a small smile tugging at his lips when he sees his dad in a Robin themed apron: "Alfred! Why are you still baking in here? You said that you'd be joining us outside soon and this doesn't look like soon."

Alfred raises his brow at the mock scolding tone Bruce is taking with him, "Don't you dare try that with me, sir. I am providing everyone with dessert for later, sustenance if you may, at least I am not hunched over this counter and forgetting to feed myself." Bruce responds with a small gasp at the slightly judgmental look he receives from the other man, taking a seat at the counter and stealing a taste of the cream cheese frosting Alfred is whipping up, giving an innocent grin when the other attempts hitting his hand for it. "And no one would believe me if I told them that you act like a child."

Alfred softens when looking back up at Bruce and seeing the man looking comfortable and happy, considering the day it is, he expected the man to be worse for wear like any other time, but this version of his son is always welcomed and if he willfully ignores the man sneaking in another scoop of cream...well, that's only his and Bruce's business.

"Not believe you, Alfred? I think your talking poppycock now. Whoever wouldn't believe you is mad I say."

Bruce watches Alfred move around the kitchen in search of something, his smile widening at the not so subtle twitch of Alfred's lips from his words, though the Wayne heir grows confused when his longtime friend stops in the middle of the floor confused. "Alfred? Is everything okay?" Bruce watches closely as the man turns to give him a reassuring smirk, the older man lifting a hand to tap at his head. "Oh, you know how it is with age, my dear boy. My old noggin' doesn't work quite like it used to, seems I am forgetful today." Alfred's obviously playful comment causes a pang of fear to shoot through Bruce's heart, the simple mention of anything being wrong with his dad on a day where he's remembering his late parents isn't helping to quell his sudden worry.

"Don't say that! You are fine, Alfred. You are fine."

Alfred looks at Bruce confused for just a moment before his shoulders slump at realizing the issue, his gunmetal blue eyes carefully observing the worry in those icy eyes and the young man's suddenly tense posture.

Alfred sighs softly and reaches forward to grab Bruce's hand in his own, "I apologize for my comment. I didn't mean to come off as insensitive or intentionally trying to worry you Bruce...I promise I am fine. Just a bit...foggy today upstairs is all-" his thumb comfortingly strokes across Bruce's hand, an action that is so familiar to the younger that it automatically causes him to relax-"I suppose that you aren't the only one who struggles on this day." Bruce pauses for a moment in thought before he takes the time to look at Alfred properly and feels a pang of sadness hit him at the grief in the man's eyes...it's something he almost never sees from the man, at least not this openly.

Bruce sucks in a sharp breath of air at truly being able to see just how tired and grief stricken the older man looks, his other hand lifting to rest on top of Alfred's, his thumb mimicking the comforting gesture for the other just as the man did for him. "I'm sorry, Alfie...I wondered about if you missed them as I do, but I never wanted to ask because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." Alfred blinks away the mist from his eyes and releases a deep breath he didn't even know he was holding, clearing his throat before speaking. "You being concerned for my well being could never bother me, sir. Now, what do you say you help me in the kitchen for today and we finish making this Bavarian Torte together?"

Bruce's eyes widen and water slightly at the name of the dessert, "You mean...the chocolate one? That was one of mom's favorite desserts." 

Alfred smiles bittersweetly at the old memories of the Wayne matriarch sneaking into the kitchen to steal the whipped icing and extra slices of cake without any remorse, remembering how she would sometimes use underhanded tricks such as sending a toddling, pudgy faced Bruce in to ask for the cake, all while cackling behind the corner like a maniac-because much like herself-it was impossible to deny the young boy anything.

"Exactly the chocolate one. I thought it might be nice to eat something familiar to remember them by...I know how much you miss them and if I'm overstepping a bound-" Alfred grunts as he's crushed into a tight hug, his arms reaching out to squeeze Bruce back as the man whispers in his ear.

"It's perfect Alfred, thank you. I'd love to help."

XXX

Bruce thought the moment of forgetfulness was unusual for Alfred, but even the best of the best have their off days once in awhile. Though he wishes he would have payed attention to the amount of grief on the butler's face when he confessed Thomas and Martha's deaths hit him hard as well, maybe if he did things wouldn't have spiraled as quickly as they did? I mean, that's if it was caused partly by untreated grief and sorrow.

Bruce wishes he would have held onto that concern long afterwards, but he trusted that child in himself telling him that Alfred is alright, telling him to trust the unwavering and impenetrable force that is Alfred Pennyworth.

That desperation to not want to even think or ponder on the thought that something could truly be wrong with Alfred seemed to overshadow the moments where something was off. It especially didn't help that each question and concerned remark was met by a steadfast reassurance that everything was fine and that Alfred was as right as rain, and maybe Bruce was being immature for so quickly being placated by the firm words and grounding tone? But Bruce was always prone to listening to Alfred when he got in such a mood, his usual iron-willed stubbornness would seem to fade into nothing whenever the man would stand tall and chase away his worries, just like when he was but a frightened child desperate for comfort yet too scared to reach out and claim such a thing for himself. Alfred remaining patient and calm despite Bruce's weariness and temperament.

Sometimes...sometimes Bruce thinks he was being selfish when it came to Alfred, he wonders about what kind of child he is to ignore his own concerns and the warning signs death gave to him in favor of being comforted by words he wanted to hear. Words of assurance and a promise that everything was fine, even when it always wasn't.

Bruce hates when his family tells him that there was nothing much he could have done, that things happened so quickly for even a doctor like Leslie to be able to aid Alfred. Bruce finds it easier to blame things on himself, he finds it easier to chalk things up to being his fault like most peoples deaths are.

Ultimately though, Bruce never thought that disease of someone's mind could spread so quickly under his and the family's noses.

XXX

Alfred is trying to cook breakfast for his family but he can't figure out where he placed the tongs, he can't grab the bacon from the pan if he doesn't have the proper utensils to do so. The older man sighs in frustration and rubs at his temples, he doesn't know why, but he has been misplacing things lately or becoming forgetful and it irks him to no end...he knows that his health is fine, but he would rather not be subject to bouts of forgetfulness at what feels like the most random of times.

While Alfred is searching through the same drawers he looked through fifty times already, one of his grandchildren sneak up behind him and startle him by asking what's wrong.

Alfred jumps and quickly turns around, a displeased frown gracing his face when Tim just giggles happily at getting a rare one up on the usually aware butler. "One of these days you children are going to give this old man a heart attack. But if you must know what's wrong, I seemed to have lost the tongs, and I would hate to let you all's bacon burn because I can't find them." Tim perks up at hearing his breakfast could be ruined and nods his head, gently moving Alfred to the side so he can take a look himself. "You sure Jason hasn't started taking our stuff again? I know he's been coming to the Manor a lot more...but he sometimes slips utensils out to use in his own apartment."

Alfred crosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, "I hope not. He knows good and well that he can ask Bruce for help and he'll buy the boy almost anything."

A drowsy voice comes from the kitchen entrance, "Where would the fun be if I asked? I hafta fulfill that little street rat in me somehow." Tim rolls his eyes at Jason's groggy response, the boy standing up straight and frowning at how the tongs have seemingly disappeared out of nowhere. "Yeah...well, did the street rat in you steal the tongs? Alfred needs them or else the bacon will burn...and we don't want the bacon to burn."

Jason smacks his lips and shrugs his shoulders, "Nope! I don't know where they are or where they ran off to, maybe our home is turning into the castle from Beauty and The Beast? Next the grandfather clock will start talking and Alfred's feather duster will have a French accent. Just use a fork for now, maybe the tongs will turn up soon." Tim shuts the drawer he was looking through and opens the one with their table utensils and pulls out a fork for Alfred to use, his gaze suspicious as he looks Jason's way. "Mhm...by 'turn up soon' do you mean you have to go get them from your apartment and rush them back here so you won't get in trouble?"

Before Jason can respond, Damian walks in with the tongs in his small hands, unconsciously clicking them together as he enters the kitchen.

"I found these in father's bathroom today. Why were they in there in the first place?" Damian continues to click the two claws together as he looks around at everyone for an answer.

Alfred feels confusion at what Damian said...he knows the boy would have no reason to lie, but there would also be no reason for him to place the tongs in Bruce's room. It must have been Bruce's dog, Ace, that did it, that must be it. Despite the dog being well trained, it still acts like a dog and that means chewing at stuff from time to time or even running off with household stuff.

"Maybe it was Ace yesterday? I saw him in the kitchen with me before heading upstairs to bed, and I do believe I stopped by Bruce's bathroom to clean it up one more time and Ace followed me then as well." Alfred extends his hand to retrieve the tongs and nods at Damian in thanks, smiling when the boy calls Ace to him and fake scolds the dog for taking his utensils. The dog just tilts it's head in confusion, it did no such thing last night, it witnessed Alfred carrying the tongs with him and leaving them in it's master's bathroom after leaving...but it knows that the humans won't understand it, so it takes the scolding bravely and gently nudges it's nose into Damian's neck.

Jason is now sitting at the countertop, his cheek resting against his hand as he yawns. "Why were you in dad's bathroom? I'm pretty sure you have your own."

Damian giggles at the cold dog nose tickling his neck before he realizes he's being addressed and clears his throat. "Why not be in father's bathroom? It is the largest one and the best one after all, and as the one true Wayne heir, I deserve the best." Jason rolls his eyes and watches as Damian climbs into the seat next to him, a humored look in his eyes when realizing that if his baby brother didn't have fancy hop-y ninja skills, he would be struggling into the tall chair because of his height.

"Okay shortcake, sure. You positive you didn't use B's bathroom because you were already in his room? I don't know...maybe because you slept in his bed last night like the child you are."

Jason was only joking, but the pink coloring Damian's face causes the older to snort in amusement at how easy it is to tease the other. Though Jason is now having to defend himself from Damian's fists trying to strike him in his side, "Don't be mad at me because I unknowingly guessed correctly. I'm definitely not judging you for sleeping in his bed, he has a really nice bed, and I'm pretty sure if I still had the time to...I would have slept in Bruce's bed as much as I could before dying."

Damian pauses his attempted murder and frowns up at the older boy, pulling away his fist in favor of crossing his arms and leaning on the counter. "That's...tragic. Does father know of this predicament of yours? You sound as though you think about it a lot and I'm sure father has as well."

"I know of his predicament now and I am never bothered if any of my children want to climb into my bed." Bruce walks into the kitchen with bed head, somehow making it look like a fashion statement rather than a hot mess, carefully ruffling Jason's head as he passes by him and hiding his pleased smile at being able to embarrass his second eldest with his hand. "Now that we've come to a conclusion on Jason's dilemma. I see we are having bacon and eggs for breakfast. Will mine have cheese like usual, Alfred?"

The older man sets the last of the bacon on the tray, his eyebrows furrowing at how forgetful he is being lately, he didn't even prepare the ingredients for the eggs. 

"Could someone pull out the eggs, cheese and vegetables for me? I'm afraid I was so focused on finding the tongs that I neglected to pull out the eggs and other ingredients. Will anyone be having an omelette?" Richard appears out of what seems like nowhere, excitedly shouting about how he'll get the items and help Alfred beat the eggs, the kind offer immediately being met with complaints from the rest of his siblings. "That's no fair! Pretty sure you got to help Alfred yesterday with breakfast too. I'm gonna crack the eggs and mix them!" Tim loudly exclaims while standing up and reaching for the fridge handle, Richard's hand bumping into his as they start a mini shoving match with each other.

Alfred sighs at the morning already starting off so loudly, "If it is of concern to anyone...I also need a mixing bowl. It seems I've forgotten where I placed them last."

Bruce watches on amused as his second eldest and baby son hop out of their seats and rush to search for the mixing bowls, laughter escaping him when Jason asks Damian why he's trying to search the cabinets when he's so tiny. Bruce looks to Alfred and laughs harder seeing the man's facial expression, leaning forward to speak to the older so that he's heard over the chaos. "Now you've caused more of a ruckus then before. It was a good try though."

Alfred raises a brow, "Nice try?"

"Yes. Acting like you didn't know where the bowls are in the hopes that it would distract Tim instead, but now you have another argument on your hands." Bruce leans into his palm with a smirk, his confusion growing as Alfred smirks a bit awkwardly, as though he was being serious about not knowing where the bowls are but is attempting at acting like he knows what's going on. "Of course, sir. This old man has his own tactics to deploy...though I suppose I should rethink my plans, they seem to not work with the children."

Bruce blinks away the confusion in his eyes, he feels like he should ask Alfred what's wrong, his mind going back to his parents anniversary night and how forgetful the other seemed then too...but he had said that everything was fine with him. Maybe it's just him overthinking things again? Bruce has plenty of those moments where his mind has gotten him in trouble with family and friends alike because his paranoia got in the way of his trust. So, if Alfred claims he is fine...then he is, who would know his health better than the man himself? Definitely not Bruce, he doesn't think he would exactly count as the healthiest role model or example on health, not really.

Plus, Alfred is probably just trying to trick Bruce with the confusion too. His butler is a surprisingly good actor, sometimes even better than Bruce himself, so it's probably just all an act.

Bruce snaps out of his thoughts when he sees Damian clinging onto a large metal bowl that Jason is holding onto, the younger dangling in the air as his brother attempts to shake him off of the bowl. "Move it, pipsqueak! I grabbed this bowl first and you know it! Your fancy ninja skills don't beat height, I grabbed this before you jumped up and attacked me for it." Damian glares at Jason and tilts his head back so that he's looking at his dad, "Father! Tell Todd to release the bowl into my hands! I had it first and he won't let it go!"

Bruce opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by Richard making a distressed sound, he turns his head quickly in worry as to what could be the issue only to see his eldest only lost a round of rock, paper, scissors to Tim.

"No! Best two out of three?" 

Tim clutches onto the cheese and vegetables while narrowing his eyes at Richard, "You mean best two out of ten? We've played nine times already and you've lost most of them." Richard eyes the ingredients dubiously, slowly inching towards the smaller boy with his arms out, as though he's trying to disarm a startled puppy rather than his littlest brother. "Look, you cheated me, m'kay? I think Cass has been teaching you her tricks...she is unnaturally good at rock, paper, scissors." 

Tim rolls his eyes and keeps his hold tight on the stuff in his arms, "It's not Cass' fault you make bets with her and end up losing your money. Why would you even make bets with the one person trained since birth to read body language? You're just an idiot."

Richard gasps at the words and playfully lunges for the fridge, loudly exclaiming to Tim that if he's getting the cheese and vegetables then he'll retrieve the egg carton.

Bruce's cheeks hurt from smiling so much, his humored gaze turning to glance at Alfred to see how he's dealing with the banter and turning to something concerned at seeing how lost the man looks while standing there, but he doesn't have time to think about it as Damian screeches for him again.

"Father! Tell Todd to release the bowl from his evil clutches! I demand it!"

"Is it so hard for you to not speak in ancient? Why don't you speak like a normal kid-ow! The Hell!? Dad, get Damian off of me, he's starting to bite again! Don't make me punt you into the wall, gremlin!" Bruce sucks in a deep breath and rubs his temples, it started off amusing, but now it's quickly becoming a headache with all this shouting.

However, he has to be a dad, and because of this responsibility and honor (a tiring honor) he stands up to soothe his childrens tempers with the promise of Alfred's bacon, his concern for his own dad temporarily forgotten.

XXX

Bruce should have known that it's the little foxes that spoil the vine, but he was either too busy dealing with other people's issues or too busy being in denial that he didn't want to notice the signs of something being wrong. Anytime he did ask, it was always met with similar answers and responses, even on days where Alfred seemed to get visibly upset with him about the constant questioning, he would ignore that little voice telling him that Alfred's anger seemed wrong in favor of moving on and returning to "normal".

One of the most worrying moments for Bruce was when other people started to notice it too, especially Clark and Diana, it was a long couple months stuck in space working on a peace treaty between two different planets...Bruce hadn't even wanted to leave at the time, his concern for Alfred's growing confusion and seemingly depleting mental state was enough reason for him to not want to go.

But, with Superman and Wonder Woman tag teaming him and nudging him along with the prospect of the two planets possible war effecting earth, that was more reason to leave his dad behind in order to make sure his loved ones won't be hurt. Not before asking Damian to keep an eye on Alfred until he returns.

Bruce never expected to be gone for five months...of course he was glad that the peace treaty was successful, but he never wanted to be gone for so long from his family, especially when all his worries came crashing down on him the moment the League headed back to the Watchtower. His thoughts immediately rushing to how Alfred and the kids are, if his dad has gotten any worse or if the memory issues truly were just a cause of overwhelming grief from past memories undealt with properly.

He remembers Clark and Diana mentioning how hungry they were when they finally landed, but both were too tired (both more mentally and emotionally than physically) to even make something themselves. Of course with that response-and the two flashing puppy eyes his way-Bruce acquiesced with a sigh and invited them to his home, too exhausted himself to properly roll his eyes when the two managed wide smiles, as if they haven't been alone with him for a year.

XXX

Bruce blinks away the dizziness from the Zeta-Tube light, he should have taken the time to prepare himself for the sudden feeling of vamping one place to another, especially with the slight fuzzy feeling in your brain that the Zeta Tube gives Leaguers...at least humans like Bruce anyway.

A feeling of peace and contentment runs throughout the vigilante at finally being home, that queazy feeling of homesick he's been secretly dealing with for a year now finally dispersing at the squeak of the bats above his head and the soft whirring of his machines. Bruce's eyes unconsciously keep drifting to the entrance of the cave as he changes out of his suit, becoming curious as to why Alfred hasn't come down to the Cave yet. Usually when Bruce doesn't notify anyone that he's back from a mission, Alfred is always the first person waiting for him or the first to know he's back anyway, always ready with a change of clothes and quickly analyzing him for any injuries or hint that something is wrong. 

Bruce realizes that Alfred won't be coming down on his own, so he quickly changes out of his Batsuit and heads upstairs to grab some clothes for Diana and Clark, turning to raise a curious brow at them when they attempt to follow him like two stray dogs.

"And what do you two think you are doing?"

Bruce is thinking of every training technique on self-control that he can to stop himself from laughing at the kicked puppy look Kal gives him and the deer in headlights look Diana wears. The Kryptonian has his foot frozen midair on the first step, "But...I thought you invited us over for a late dinner? Don't tell me you were joking about that? I was looking forward to that sandwich." Diana elbows Clark in the side for his comment, her sapphire blue eyes narrowing disapprovingly on how the man is more worried about food.

"I think what he means to say is that we thought the invitation was a serious one. And that we hope we didn't cross some sort of boundary? Especially when remembering you haven't seen your family in months...you must desire to see them right away, and we hope our presence isn't intruding upon that desire." Bruce has to look away at the overly sincere way the Amazonian is looking at him, and from the slow realization of Diana's words sinking into Clark's brain and causing him to (somehow) look more pitiful than before. "Gosh, B! Di is right, I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that...I was selfish to spend more time with you and eat a good sandwich."

Bruce's shoulders shake lightly as he finally breaks, he slowly turns to face his friends with a rare genuine smile on his face, the two freezing in place from the-no doubt exhausted-but genuinely happy laughter their friend is making.

"You two...it isn't about misunderstood jokes or interrupting my family time. I meant it when I asked you both to join me for dinner, I was just leaving to go get you both some clothes...you should know Alfred's rule about the suits in the home by heart now. That's all." Bruce rubs at his cheeks after speaking, it always hurts when he smiles too much, he doesn't know how since his children make him smile all the time, so he should be used to it by now. Luckily though, the answer seems to have satisfied both Diana and Clark's curiosity and worry, the two nodding their heads and preparing to say something but are quickly interrupted by the Grandfather Clock sliding open to reveal a sleepy looking Damian and Tim standing at the entrance.

"Father, you're finally back..." The younger boy rubs at his eyes and blinks rapidly, stifling a yawn as he speaks.

Tim seems to take Damian's cue as he yawns instead, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he does so, his posture looking exhausted beyond all belief but relieved at seeing Bruce again. "Hey, dad. Hi auntie Di and uncle C, we were hoping it was you this time, B. We brought you some extra clothes as the cave alerted us there was three people."  Bruce smiles at Tim fondly as the boy walks down the steps, the amusement growing in him once again when Damian huffs, pouts and rolls his eyes at whatever it was the his older brother said.

"I for one am beyond grateful that it's father this time around. If Todd brought his ragtag band of paupers over one more time to purposely grate on my nerves, I was actually going to murder one of them." Damian remains stubborn on his statement despite the look his dad turns to give him for saying he would murder people, "What? And don't get me started on Grayson, father! He was inviting people over for sleepovers every single night! Why does one man need so many feminine counterparts to hang around? They all-" Tim interrupts with a teasing look on his face and in his eyes 

"They all pampered him and babied him despite his threats to cut them down to size. Don't act like you didn't enjoy the skin care treatments, it's nothing you wouldn't do with dad-" the teen leans over to whisper purposefully loud to Bruce-"which is exactly why he allowed it to happen despite the constant protests. He was reminded of you whenever they treated his skin."

Bruce somehow manages to smiles even wider yet softer at the statement, his exhausted eyes shining with an overwhelming amount of emotions at realizing how much he's missed this; how much he's missed his family. The man quickly walks the rest of the way up the steps to pick up his baby son, cutting off the threats he knew Damian was going to shout at Tim, "Well...I am here now. There will be no more missing me as I can do our skin care together again, sadly not tonight, I'm too... exhausted. I have to make us sandwiches and get to bed before Alfred notices I'm still up and scolds me."

Bruce looks away from Damian too soon, hiking the boy up on his hip and securing his hold on him so the boy's chin is resting on his shoulder, not noticing the way his youngest son's face twists into something odd at the mention of Alfred.

Diana and Clark quickly finish changing and look at each other confused for the odd look Damian gave, as well as Tim's reaction to it, the older boy narrowing his eyes suddenly at the other in warning...as if he's telling the younger to control himself and not say whatever he's thinking, at least not tonight.

Curiouser and curiouser is when Tim notices the older heroes staring and quickly switches to a small, tired smile, the movement so precise and quick that both Diana and Clark thought they imagined it. However, the disgruntled look Damian gives Tim is enough to reassure the two that what they saw was real, the heroes following closely behind Bruce as they head to the kitchen and wonder silently what could be up with Alfred.

------

Bruce lazily chews on his sandwich, his eyes feeling heavy as he eats, the side to side motion of chewing oddly helping him to relax more on the stool, his chest pressing into Damian's back more as his body continues to slump down. At this rate, he'll fall to sleep at the kitchen counter with his child trapped on his lap rather than in his bed, so, with a quick clear of his throat, Bruce's slightly scratchy voice starts up a conversation. "How has everyone been doing while I was away? How has Alfred been? I bet he's been relieved not having to watch over me for these past few months, huh?"

He tried to go for something silly, cause that's a thing he's been attempting to pick up lately, and not his usual dry humor either. But with the micro expression Damian just made and the very miniscule tension in Tim's shoulders at his comment, he either wasn't very funny or something is going on with Alfred, or someone else in the family.

Bruce definitely would believe that he just isn't that funny, but these expressions and tensing isn't the normal 'dad you're embarrassing' type of looks or body language, it's the 'uh oh! Dad just mentioned something that we didn't want to speak about ever or right now.' And while Bruce may be exhausted from the month long trip in space, dealing with interplanetary peace making and/or keeping, on top of handling a rowdy group (the younger ones) of Justice Leaguers along with the severe jet lag one gets after traveling in space, he is still a dad and father first and foremost on top of being Batman.

Bruce hates how his first instinct is to panic and immediately turn to Diana and Clark to somehow blame or fuss at them for insisting he should go. But, he knows he shouldn't cause unnecessary fights and arguments, plus, he doesn't know exactly what happened or if anything happened at all...so there is absolutely no need to panic...right? 

The longer Bruce sits in silence to think of a response, the more he starts to panic at the thought that maybe after being away for so long his family is feeling awkward around him, and that thought makes him feel way more paranoid and obsessive so he tries to think of something more reasonable. What is more reasonable you ask? Immediately imaging one of his kids dying while he's away-and nope! Absolutely not that thought- "Can you or I just say something about it already? You're causing father to spiral." Bruce blinks away the concern in his eyes to look questioningly at Damian for his stern tone, Diana and Clark also pause their eating to look between the two boys.

"Tim...I think that whatever is going on that you need to share it. Clark and I both saw the look you gave Damian when he made that face." 

Tim sighs tiredly and rests his head in his hands when Bruce immediately asks him about, "what look", he takes a moment to compose himself before speaking. "You're right, aunty Di. I just-it's just...Alfred has been acting...off I guess one could say?"  The teen looks down in guilt when seeing his dad's worried look, "You see...this is exactly why I thought we should wait to tell him this in the morning. You're getting stressed when you already look exhausted enough as is."

Bruce shakes his head, ignoring the heavy weight of exhaustion pressing on his eyelids in favor of addressing what Tim said. 

"What do you mean by off, Tim? Has he gotten worse when I was away?"

Tim looks up quickly at what Bruce just said, confusion shining in his eyes as he tilted his head, "Worse? What does that mean?" Damian stops his chewing on one of Bruce's (stolen) chips, looking up to his father, expressing his puzzlement in his big green eyes alone. "Timothy is right, father...what do you mean by worse? Did something happen to Pennyworth before you left?"

Clark and Diana silently worry when they see Bruce look guilty for a second before controlling his expression, they know that whatever is going on must be serious enough as it's causing him this much distress, but they are hoping that their friend won't choose to shut down and keep things to himself as he tends to do when extremely worried. "Bruce, if there was something that happened to Alfred a couple months ago before you left, why didn't you tell everyone? Is...is that why you were so insistent on staying here instead of leaving Earth?" Clark looks worried as he asks, he feels guilty at the thought of forcing his friend away from his father figure when the man may have needed him most.

Bruce sighs, the remainder of his sandwich and chips long forgotten, the worry and uncertainty replacing the feeling of hunger in his stomach. "Nothing happened-" he pauses at the looks he receives from everyone at the table, huffing in irritation at their doubt-"I promise that nothing happened. At least not that I've seen...I don't even think there's anything truly wrong, Alfred said he's fine, just been a little forgetful and such lately...but he expects to get better, he does." Bruce does his best not to outwardly shrink into himself at the desperation in his tone, as if he's trying to convince himself that everything is okay and is going to be okay because Alfred said so.

Damian frowns worriedly, making eye contact with Tim and having a silent conversation, nodding slightly before hugging and kissing Bruce goodnight before sliding out of his lap. Tim hops down from his own stool and smiles reassuringly at Bruce, deciding that him and Damian can badger their dad in the morning about it; for now though, they'll leave it to Diana and Clark. "G'night, dad. Make sure to get some rest soon or else Alfred will be mad at you, night uncle Clark and aunty Di." Bruce watches his children leave, a frown tugging on his lips and the worry building at the thought of him having made his kids mad. His arms automatically come up so he can cross them, internally telling himself that it isn't a gesture of self-comfort, but that he just feels like crossing them-which apparently that's not what it looks like-as his two friends look at him in concern. "Bruce, what-"

"I...made them mad?"

Diana softens at the anxious note in Bruce's voice and shakes her head, "No. They weren't mad, that isn't why they left. And even if it was...why sound so confused about it?"

Bruce automatically digs his nails into his arms to calm himself before remembering to let up, he feels irritated when realizing Clark must have heard it as the man's eyes drift look at his hands. "Because I never know when I make someone mad, I never know what I do wrong. I think-I think Alfred's issue is my fault." The abruptness in which Bruce switched to blaming himself cause the two superheroes to freeze in place, their tired minds trying to process what it is that their friend just said before it sinks in and Clark jumps in to quickly reassure the other man.

"How can anything going on now be your fault, B? I thought you said nothing even happened?"

A frustrated grunt escapes Bruce's lips, "I said that it's nothing that I have been able to see. But I'm pretty sure whatever is happening with him is my fault! Alfred is...I don't know? He's becoming more-"

"Master Bruce, when did you return home? The systems didn't alert me that you arrived, nor did any of the children. I have been wondering where you've been and no one ever had an answer." Alfred stands at the kitchen entrance with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed in disapproval, something fond warming Bruce's insides at hearing something familiar come out of the butler's mouth, though he doubts no one never told the older man of his whereabouts. Which, that thought causes Bruce to grow worried again.

"Tim and Damian just came down, Al. They told me at some point that you were upstairs resting so we thought not to bother you."

Bruce tries to keep his careful check over of Alfred subtle as he carefully eyes the man and his face, noting that nothing looks too out of place physically wise, which is good! The healthy appearance kind of eases the prickly tingle of anxiety in Bruce's gut.

Alfred doesn't pay attention to or notice his son's analyzing as he doesn't scold Bruce for his fretting and instead softens his stance and eyes the unfinished food on Bruce's plate. "Too tired to finish your food? Understandable. You look absolutely atrocious, sir, if I may say so? I have never seen such circles under your eyes before in my life! Was tonight that bad?" Bruce rolls his eyes at Alfred's comment, curiosity taking over his thoughts as he wonders exactly what Alfred means by, "tonight." He desires to ask the man what that means to him...but he is afraid that maybe he won't get the answer he's looking for, luckily enough, Diana must see he wants to ask the other that, so she takes over. Her tone friendly and warm.

"Good morning, Alfred. It's always lovely to see you. What do you mean by tonight?" 

Alfred nods politely at Diana but freezes for a moment, he isn't blind, he can see the way Bruce slumps ever so slightly in his seat when the woman asks her question. Now he feels unsure about what tonight means as well, so, he tries to play it off by asking a question of his own. 

"You know, tonight. What do you think tonight means?"

Diana manages to keep her smile on her face, the response is unusual for the Brit as he is always so straightforward in his responses, but she can work with this. "I think tonight means the mission we went on to space, we made a peace treaty between two different planets. Of course, you knew that though, Alfred." The three heroes wait in anticipation for the man's comment, but are baffled when Alfred looks momentarily surprised before fixing his face to look as if he recalls something, though Bruce finds himself bothered at the curtness of the man's response, "Yes. The space mission, of course."

What did Bruce do? Did Alfred not want him to actually go on the mission? Bruce knows that the older man can often be straightforward and to the point...but he never sounds so abrupt and-and upset, this is for sure Alfred's angry tone, Bruce should know, the man has had to take it to him many times.

Diana looks apologetic when Bruce looks at her, he softens as he knows the woman didn't do it on purpose, she was just doing what Bruce wanted and took the consequences of that came with asking Alfred the question. "Alfred, is everything okay? You never let me know that you didn't want me to leave on the mission, you never really ask me to stay because you know the importance of the work I do." Alfred remains silent, though Bruce grows more perplexed at the exasperated expression Alfred has on his face. Luckily enough, Diana and Clark sense the older man's growing frustration and-like the angels they are-leave their friend alone to talk to his dad alone, the Kryptonian and Amazonian reassuring Alfred they remember where the spare rooms are when he moves to guide them.

As soon as the two heroes leave and Alfred is left alone with Bruce, the older man takes the chance to state exactly what it is that's bothering him.

"How am I to let you know that I would or would not want you to depart if you never told me in the first place, sir? I have been asking the boys where you've been for days now and I could never find you, but it turns out you went off world without even a word to me." Alfred turns to glare at Bruce in a disappointed way, but instead finds his irritation at the fact his son never told him he was leaving, turning into irritation at the perturbed look on the other's face. "What exactly is that look for? Surely you aren't trying to feel guilty now when it's already happened? I have told you about-" 

"It's been more than a few days, Alfie. I have been off world for a whole year. I told you that I'd be leaving and even tried to stay behind, but you, Clark and Diana insisted that I go along to help. As soon as you found out I was trying to stay in Gotham, you insisted the change of scenery might do wonders for me, even if it's from another planet..." Bruce trails off and searches Alfred's face for any sign that he may remember even an inkling of the conversation they had, his heart sinks a bit more when the man looks disbelieving. "Don't you remember? You stated that me visiting another planet wouldn't be any different than living in Gotham since everyone here might as well be considered their own special alien race."

The silence is awkward for both Bruce and Alfred, with the former wanting to ask so many questions about his dad and what's been going on with him lately but stopping himself as Alfred looks like he'll fall over if he has to try remembering anything, and the latter feeling embarrassed at not remembering any of this. 

Alfred stands up straight and quickly takes Bruce's plate to the sink to distract himself from his own internal worry and confusion, "Of course. I just thought that I'd have a bit of a laugh teasing you when you came back, you should join your friends upstairs, Bruce, you need your rest." Bruce's brows furrow at the obvious dismissal, maybe not necessarily in the butler's tone, but his body language shows that he is done with the conversation and that it's just a joke as he said it was. But Bruce knows it's more than that...it has to be, why would Alfred suddenly forget these things now? He wishes that he could blame it on the other just being tired, but that doesn't seem like it at all.

"Alfred...it's okay if you don't remember, I just-"

Alfred huffs and scrubs at the dishes harder, "All is well, Bruce-" his tone is cold and clipped when speaking-"I am telling you to go to bed now, you need the rest after the long day you've had. I am fine, thank you."

Bruce stares at Alfred's back for a bit too long but decides an argument with the other isn't the best option right now, he just silently slides out his seat with a whispered, "goodnight," and heads up the stairs. Bruce feels stupid for feeling like a scolded toddler, but while he has definitely been on the receiving end of Alfred's short tone, never has the man used it for a topic that wasn't that serious when you think about it hard enough, and what exactly does the other man mean when saying a long day? Does he mean literally just the day Bruce had traveling back to earth or is Alfred already forgetting that the other mentioned it's been exactly three hundred sixty five days since seeing each other?

Bruce enters his room with a sigh at seeing his two friends sitting on his bed, he doesn't enjoy the concern on their faces either.

"What's wrong with Alfred?"

Clark quietly hisses Diana's name at the blunt question, the woman frowning at the look her Kryptonian friend is giving her. "What? What is the issue with asking what we all are thinking?" Clark sighs and drags his hand down his face, "Nothing inherently. But, you could try showing a little more...tact when such issues arise. You know we appreciate your honesty, but season your words with a little grace, please."

Diana exhales loudly but nods in agreement, "I understand. I'm sorry, Bruce...I know the question must be inappropriate considering the situation at hand."

Bruce leans back against the door, fully shutting it with a quiet 'click' sound as he looks up towards the ceiling in thought. "No, Diana is right to ask that question. I was going to say to you both before Alfred interrupted that he's been more forgetful as of late, I was afraid to leave him because I wanted to personally keep an eye on him and see if things were getting worse or if they'd return back to normal. Now I'm wondering if me leaving off world only made the issue worse?"

Clark shakes his head, "I don't think that's how this works, B. If this is something that's been happening before today or even a few months back when you told Alfred...then I am pretty sure he would have reached this point either way, with or without your being here. Since we are on the topic of Alfred being...different than usual, anyone notice how he had absolutely no idea what tonight meant?" Diana crosses her arms with a nod, "Yes. I was just thinking about that...he deflected by asking me a question and then answered based off of what I said, I've never seen him do that before in all the years I've interacted with that man."

At Bruce's prolonged silence, Clark and Diana turn to look at him, the two glancing at each other sympathetically towards their friend and his obvious distress. Diana sighs softly and gently calls the younger man's name, "Bruce, what are you planning on doing? Your sons noticed that something was amiss, we noticed it, and obviously you do too...the look in your eyes and the way you speak about Alfred is proof enough that you feel something's up."

Bruce squeezes his eyes shut tight at Diana's words, "He says that he's fine."

"But do you believe that?" Diana questions honestly, but not without gentleness, "Despite your stubborn nature and what feels like a know-it-all attitude at times. That's something I appreciate about you is your judgment and ability to sense when something is wrong...usually you are so quick to admit to us how right you are, yet now you avoid what it seems you already know, why? My friend, I think whatever you are telling yourself to do; do it. I know not only would it help you be at ease, but it could help Alfred as well." Bruce slumps against the door more in defeat and exhaustion, he feels like someone is playing a cruel joke on him, it feels like someone is twisting a knife deep into his heart with all the worry weighing on it.

But Diana is right, especially when it comes to matters of the heart and the truth within, so despite wanting to fight the two on it, all he can do is look at them tiredly and nod.

XXX

Bruce remembers how weighed down his body felt, not just by the exhaustion from the off world mission, but from the stress that decided to overwhelm him as soon as he returned back on earth. He remembers telling his family the next morning what had been going on, he hated to see the concern on each of his childrens faces and the uncertainty in their tones as they bombarded him with questions, but he knows that despite any personal feelings on the matter...his being honest was appreciated by the family.

And it all started with a phone call.

XXX

Richard loves being called by his family, even if two and a half out of one billion of them act like they don't like calling him, why do Jason and Damian have to be so tsundere about it? He loves receiving calls from Alfred to let him know that there's a warm plate saved for him, and he especially loves when Bruce calls him; even more so, Richard treasures the moments where his dad just calls to simply hear his voice and check on his well-being. Though Richard also adores when he catches Bruce trying to call him when busy and he's not, picking up the phone with a wide smirk at the awkward silence his dad stews in, trying to make excuses as to why he's calling (he's that half to the two others).

But, sometimes not every call that the eldest receives is always one that makes him happy, like now, Richard was just trying to enjoy a day out with some of his siblings when his phone rang. He picks it up quickly as it's Bruce and calls from him are either entertaining or something to be concerned about...sadly it's the latter today.

"I told you the kids would be just fine with me, B. We've only been out for..."

Stephanie responds from behind the curtain she's trying out clothes in, "Seven hours. We left early today to get some shopping done, remember?"

Richard's eyes widen and he looks at the phone's time curiously before laughing and gesturing to his siblings, "Wow! Yeah, uh...seven hours, we've only been gone that long. No wonder why you guys were hounding me for food-" the eldest goes silent at Bruce's immediate questioning interrogating on if he's fed his siblings yet, Stephanie must know what's happening as she pokes her head out from the curtain with an amused smirk-"Yeah...yeah, I've remembered to feed them actual food."

Jason pushes himself off the wall and towards Richard so he can speak into his phone, "No he didn't. The first place he dragged us to when entering the mall was some candy store, we all got something from there and ate that, then we all got distracted by other things so we never ate real food. M'pretty sure Tim has fainted from the lack of nourishment-ack!" The older teen grunts as his face is pushed away and smirks at his older brother trying to excuse himself, "Wha-no! Of course Tim didn't actually faint, dad. They are all being dramatic about it...though I confess that maybe I did kind of let food slip my mind-anyways! I want to hear what you called about! Do you need us to pick something up?"

Richard waits patiently as Bruce takes time to say whatever it is he wants to say, he's learned not to assume the worst is happening as sometimes the other man just calls because he loves him and other times it's that he doesn't know if it's okay to just say it, so patience is something that's much needed during this short time.

However, while waiting, he glances over at Tim and Damian who are trying on fancy glasses together, his smile growing fond when the younger allows Tim to pick him up so he can see his reflection in the display cases mirror. The frantic waving of someone's arms from the corner of his eye catch Richard's attention, so he looks towards Stephanie who immediately starts posing in her new outfit for him, his eyes taking in the Y2K look she's been going for recently and decides that the style fits her...though she's someone who is constantly changing her aesthetic, so he wonders how long this will last.

His attention hones back in on Bruce when the man softly clears his throat, "There has been something that has been on my mind lately and I have decided-through Diana and Clark's unwanted but...appreciated input-that I should share it with the family as well, ah...minus Alfred."

Richard stops smiling at hearing that and furrows his brows, "Uncle C and Aunty Di actually...they actually agreed that you should have this conversation with us instead of Alfred? What's going on?" At the curious looks and protests he receives from his younger siblings at wondering what's going on, Richard waves his hand at them to quiet the group down, listening as his dad sighs tiredly and responds in a tone that implies whatever the topic is about has been thought about without breaks. He wouldn't be surprised if Bruce lost sleep turning the thoughts over in his head, "They did...it's something that I have been noticing with Alfred for awhile now, so that's why he can't be here for the conversation. Tim and Damian know what the concerns are...we somewhat brought the issue up last night when I came home. I'm sure they'd be willing to fill you all in if you ask. I love you, Dicky Bird."

Richard didn't even realize how tense his body was until his shoulders dropped at the other saying he loves him, his smile turns more relaxed and he softly responds back. "I love you too, dad. We'll be there as quickly as possible...and I'll try not to break traffic rules along the way." As soon as he hangs up and pockets his phone, Richard is bombarded with questions from the family. The man looks between his siblings before settling on Damian and Tim, "Dad said that you two would know what the conversation would be about. Apparently last night you two mentioned an issue with Alfred? B apparently wants to talk to us about it today as it's been a concern he's had for a bit now."

Tim sighs in relief, he was worried something really horrible was happening with Bruce.

"Yeah, me and Damian noticed Alfred acting kind of weird while dad was away. I tried to mention it yesterday to him but he kind of freaked out about it, so I thought it'd be best to let him have a breather from our interrogation and let Aunty Di and Uncle Clark handle it...which they apparently did."

Richard's brows pinch together in worry for whatever could be wrong with Alfred, and with a small sigh, rounds his family up so they can leave for home.

------

Richard is just about trampled under his younger siblings feet with the way they all push at him and trip over one another trying to get inside, he tries calming them down and asking them to wait or try knocking on the door instead, but all he gets for his efforts is someone stepping very harshly on his foot...which he doesn't know if it that was done on accident or on purpose.

Luckily enough, Richard's slightly overdramatic pained cries are answered as the door is swung open to reveal an overly entertained Kate looking at all of them humorously, her brow raised in question. "Where's the fire? You all look like you're crushing poor little Dickie to death, you okay?" The redhead smiles at the chorus of apologies uttered to her instead of Richard, her smile growing at the eldest siblings offended scoff of protest, "You see the way I get treated by my dearly beloved siblings? At least you had the decency to ask of my well-being, and I'm surprisingly just fine after such an ordeal."

Kate chuckles and watches as the Wayne children form a line and calmly walk in the house instead, her eyes giving away the amusement she feels from Richard's words.

"Hm...maybe it's because you didn't feed them? You know how they get when they're hungry."

Richard shuts the door and pauses for a moment to process his cousin's words, giving her a playful glare at the reminder of his forgetfulness. "Yeah, yeah, not like themselves. Should've fed them a Snickers I guess?" Kate snorts at the comment and leads the kids to the family room, reassuring Jason that Bruce has food waiting for them when the teen gives a longing look to the kitchen, geeze...Bruce's kids really did get their theatrics from him.

At the site of beautifully prepared sandwiches on the coffee table, Jason and the rest of his siblings dash forward-and with Bruce's guidance-figure out which plate belongs to who. Kate shares an amused look with her younger cousin before clapping her hands together to get the rowdy groups attention, "Okay guys! Let's not forget why we are here in the first place. Bruce called us here for what sounds like a very important reason, and I'm curious as to what could be so serious that Alfred isn't allowed in on it." At the reminder of why they were called here, the children quickly turn their now apprehensive looks onto their dad, Jason speaking around a mouthful of food.

"Why...w're we c'lled? W's wr'ng?"

Bruce does his best not to squirm under the attention...he's had to act as if he's way braver than he feels before for goodness sakes! So what's the difference now?

"I am sure Tim and Damian shared what they have witnessed with Alfred along the way home-"

Stephanie interrupts, her response candid, "Actually, they were quite tight-lipped about the information. Anytime we'd asked we were met with silence or the same response being: 'we think it's dad's right to let you know himself, sorry.' They did at least tell us at the mall that Alfred was acting really weird...though that's nothing new as that's basically what you told us."

Bruce can't help the warmth in his heart at Damian and Tim's thoughtfulness, though the longer he thinks about it, he doesn't know whether to stay thankful of their choice or to feel slightly overwhelmed at having to explain everything himself to his family. One thing Bruce is consistently thankful for right now is his childrens-specifically Stephanie's-ability to break the tension by being straightforward and even sarcastic while sounding so conversational, though he can see her tone isn't appreciated by his youngest child, so before a fight can break out between Damian and Stephanie, Bruce clears his throat.

"Thank you for that bit of information, Steph, now I know exactly what I have to tell you all to fill you in on the problem." Cass tilts her head in question and Barbara says the unasked question out loud, "And what exactly is that?"

Bruce sighs tiredly and attempts his best comforting smile: "Everything."

------

"And now I'm even more-" Bruce waves his hand-"you know, at having everyone point it out. I knew I should have listened to myself before but I was so confident in Alfred that I believed everything he told me...or at least I wanted to, now it's my fault that this is getting worse. I should have just listened to myself in the first place and took him to see Leslie, but I hoped to respect his wish of not seeing a doctor and now he has to pay for my carelessness."

Everyone remains silent at the troublesome news, all trying to process the words in their own way and figure out what to say...if there's anything to say at all.

"You can't blame yourself, dad...we probably would have done a similar thing if it were us. I mean, it's Alfred, if he says he's fine then that's the way it usually goes...and I don't think anyone in this house would ever expect something like this from him, that's never really a thought that never occurs is how he could be sick-" the sound of leather squeaking causes Richard to pause with a frown on his face at the way Bruce's knuckles turn white from how hard he's gripping the arms of the chair he sits in, obviously his dad is still in denial about whatever is going on with Alfred. Maybe the actual issue comes from not being in denial about it and admitting to himself deep down what he knows to be true? Maybe if he lets his dad know he's not alone in feeling lost then things will be fine-"Dad...you aren't-"

Bruce cuts his eldest off and looks around at everyone's empty plates, "Does anyone need more food? Jason? I saw you looking around for more earlier."

Jason jumps slightly at his name being called suddenly, his frown deepening at Bruce's attempts at distracting himself while he shares a concerned look with Richard. "Dad, it's okay for now, just sit back. You already prepared a lot for us and I'm sure most of us are full now, so just relax-" Bruce's hands clench open and closed at the word relax, he's perfectly relaxed, okay? He doesn't look unrelaxed, in fact, he thinks he's being too overly relaxed at such a topic being discussed. I mean, who asks someone if they want more food if they aren't relaxed?

"Relaxed? I am relaxed and I'm fine. I just need--I want--someone needs food! Please, someone needs food."

Bruce hates the looks he receives from his children and cousin, why are they looking at him like that? He doesn't need sympathy right now, he's fine, he's perfectly fine. Why can't they see that?

Bruce almost leaves the room, half afraid he'll flip over the table and break the glass plates in his distress anger...yeah, anger, it's much easier to tell himself that it's all because of anger instead of the crushing anxiety eating away at his mind. Luckily, before he can get up and leave his problems behind, Damian stands up holding his plate, looking to his father with big green eyes. "I could always use another sandwich...please? Pennyworth has taught you well in the art of sandwich making, father, it tastes delicious."

Hearing that someone needs him-needs his help-is enough to snap Bruce back into reality and out of the cloud of despair that was quickly weighing on him.

With a nod, Bruce guides his youngest into the kitchen to prepare the boy as many sandwiches as he wishes, not paying attention to the looks Damian shares with the rest of the family before they are out of sight. Neither does he pay attention to his son as he hops up to sit on the counter and watch as his father meticulously prepares too many sandwiches for one person alone, the older doesn't see the concern clouding Damian's eyes as the once neat sandwich making becomes sloppier with the increasing shakiness of his dad's hands.

"This looks familiar."

Bruce curses softly as he messes up yet another sandwich and tosses the bread to the side, "What...what looks familiar?"

Damian kicks his legs idly and shrugs, "You and the constant hand movements. Did you know that Alfred does the same thing when he's worried? The whole time you were on that mission and he didn't know where you were, he did something with his hands, whether that was cleaning or folding clothes or trying to cook something." Bruce tenses at hearing Alfred's name and accidentally messes up another sandwich by crushing it in his hands, his heart racing at why his son is choosing to do this to him. "Damian." He says the name like a warning, something slightly desperate in his tone for the boy to just stay quiet as he fixes his food, but the other just hums and continues on.

"I suppose it makes sense. You were raised by Alfred after all...so I'm sure that you learned plenty of little habits like that from him over the years of him raising you up. He also tends to make much more than nece-" Damian doesn't even flinch when Bruce slams his messy hands on the counter just a touch too forcefully, neither does he back down when his father finally looks to him in anger, his tone shaky and voice tight as he speaks. "Stop! Just stop! What is the point of all this!?"

Damian finds the courage to speak after searching his father's eyes and seeing the uncertainty within the icy orbs, "Because you seem to be running away from the fact that the man who raised you is unwell! You seem to be hiding the fact that the man who became your dad is showing worrying signs in his health behind anger! You are uncertain of the outcome, father, and I'm trying to understand why you run from that fact? I...I was uncertain when I came here for the first time, at getting to be around and see the man who is my father, who I was told stories about from a young age. I hid it behind anger too and acted out because I was uncertain of the outcome...and you always, always proved my fears wrong. Now that I've gotten to know you, I would-I would be terrified to lose you."

Damian keeps his stance tall despite the tears gathering in his eyes and the sadness creeping into his heart at what his father must be going through.

Bruce tries so desperately to hold onto the anger he's easily crafted and cultivated over the years in response to situations where he's scared to show how he really feels, but he can feel the cracks in his mask growing bigger at Damian's words, he understands what the boy is saying to him...but does he want to admit it now? In an attempt to hold onto that anger, Bruce tries to say Damian's name angrily again, his voice sounding less harsh this time and more raw; vulnerable.

"Damian."

"Father."

Bruce's eyebrows pinch together at the confidence in the way his son says his name, "...Damian." He tries it again.

"Dad."

Bruce's breath hitches at the shakiness in Damian's tone the second time around, he is still trying to fight the overwhelming emotions, so he tries it one more time. "D-Damian."

This time there's a pause, Damian's voice matching the vulnerability in his father's tone as he says, "Daddy."

Bruce finally looks back up at Damian, not even realizing his head was hanging so low, and his heart finally cracks at seeing the same uncertainty he feels in his youngest child's eyes. He never took the time to think of what Damian could be going through...at what all his family could be going through, and it's with that realization that Bruce finally allows the dam to break and all his emotions come pouring out in one desperate cry.

"I'm sorry, Damian-baby, come here."

Bruce ignores the mess on his hands and pulls his son in close, holding his baby close to his heart as the child shakes from the force of his cries.

Bruce turns to look at the entrance of the kitchen when hearing his family shuffle in the doorway, standing still; unsure. Unsure as to if they are allowed to join in on the moment, and his answer to them is extending his right arm to them in invitation, the cries getting louder as all of them slam into him and release their worries in a mess of unintelligible babbling. He sucks in a deep breath to try and control himself for what he wants to say, "I-I know you all knew this already...but I'm...I'm scared. I'm absolutely t-terrified at the thought of Alfred-of my dad dying, of forgetting me and us-of everything! I'm scared of it all because he felt like my structure after everything collapsed from under me and around me, and I'm so sorry t-that I forgot how you all must feel. Please forgive me."

Bruce's kids just hug onto him tighter and simultaneously tell him that they love him, they tell him not to worry about it and that they understand. He feels overwhelmed at how...good and healthy his kids have turned out despite the mess that he is, his eyes water in a mix of the sadness and affection he feels towards his children, his icy blue's meeting Kate's as she fondly watches all of them from the entrance.

At the look Bruce gives her, Kate smiles as best she can, though she can tell how wobbly it is from the way her lips tremble. She waits patiently as her younger cousin's children get the comfort they need from him and each other, watches as Stephanie takes Damian from Bruce's arms and hugs tightly onto him instead, opening her arms up to the man when everyone moves away from him and finally sheds her tears at the way Bruce runs into her arms and wraps his own around her. All she can imagine in this moment is that eight-year-old desperately clinging onto her the moment she arrived back in Gotham for her aunt and uncle's funeral, her hand rising to cradle her cousin's head against her shoulder the way she did all those years ago when he sought her arms for comfort.

"I'm scared too, B. He helped me a lot when my parents died...and I can't imagine losing him either. But you, you were raised by him, and I know how scary this must be, you never quite liked the unknown."

Bruce squeezes Kate and cries into her neck instead, his hands gripping onto her shirt tightly. "He's my second dad...I don't want to lose him in any way. I-I know assuming he'll die isn't exactly r-right...but does such a quick change in health ever spell out good things?" Kate stays silent at the question, from personal experience, her side of the family has always had issues with health, especially at the later points in life...and nine times out of ten the word it spelled out was death, so she can't exactly say to Bruce that Alfred won't die. Granted that's just for her family history, they don't really know much about Alfred's family line, but that's just fine, she doesn't think that Bruce would accept any attempts to soothe him with carefully crafted words.

Instead, Kate just squeezes onto her cousin tighter and cradles his head against her neck, as if she can hide him from the reality of his fears for a moment in time.

XXX

Everything seemed to have shifted during that moment, both for the better and the worst, Bruce was thankful for that moment as it was a chance for him to remember that the situation was more than just him...it was about everyone that Alfred knows and loves. He remembers being thankful to his children for their understanding and consideration in a moment where he acted out of fear, anger and stress, he was appreciative of their maturity in a moment where he himself didn't feel mature.

Bruce felt like that moment helped him grow even closer to his children in a time of vulnerability, was thankful for the kids thoughtfulness to also openly show him how scared the news made them, but Bruce also dreaded the thought of dealing with Alfred afterwards. The older man has never liked going to a hospital, and to be honest, Bruce didn't even remember seeing the other needing to be taken in for any sort of sickness...not from any past memories anyway, Alfred was always just so...healthy, and not once did Bruce ever remember seeing him otherwise, so maybe that's another reason why this whole situation made him overwhelmed with anxiety? Bruce has never seen his dad in a state where he became the recipient of caretaking, it was always the opposite for Alfred.

Bruce recalls the way the rest of the days events went, the family continued on as normal when Alfred returned home from his impromptu shopping trip with Clark and Diana, he remembers the feeling of peace and warmth he felt that night in his bedroom with all his children surrounding him, but he also remembers the worry warring with the feeling of contentment in his mind.

But the one thing Bruce recollects to this day is the moment he got Alfred to agree to a visit to Leslie's office, it was a couple weeks after the other man kept getting everyone's names wrong all of a sudden, Bruce remembers practically begging his dad to get a check up and feeling relief sink into his bones when Alfred (begrudgingly) agreed to it.

XXX

"Things should be right quick, Al. Leslie just wanted to do a checkup, especially since the kids had theirs done lately, we thought you should get one too."  The latter part is definitely a lie...but Bruce doesn't know what else to say to the man who can sniff out his lies a mile away, so maybe if he uses his grandkids as an excuse then Alfred won't prod as much?

Bruce checks his watch for what feels like the millionth time already-and surprisingly enough-Alfred picks up on the nervous gesture and looks at his son critically before sighing at whatever it is he sees on the younger one's face and gently covering the watch with his hand. "I assure you that whatever it is you're nervous about should absolutely be of no concern to you. I adore you, sir, but sometimes you do have the habit of over exaggerating things, just calm down and sit still with me."

It is my concern when you keep forgetting things you used to know goes unsaid, even though Bruce is thinking it and desperately wants to say that to Alfred, he knows the other will just keep denying that he's not forgetting things...though sometimes he sees-what feels like-a moment of clarity in the man's eyes whenever he musters up the courage to say something to Alfred, it's like the man would grow nervous himself and be in denial about it, not because he was confused, but because he knew exactly what was going on and didn't want to acknowledge it himself. And Bruce really wants to say something after Alfred's attempted reassurances, but the familiar feeling of the other's thumb brushing side to side on his hand causes his lips to clamp shut from the feeling of comfort that washes over him.

So, Bruce obediently sits still with Alfred while the other gently brushed his thumb across the other's hand.

The duo wait for only a few more seconds-but it feels like hours to Bruce-until Leslie calls Alfred's name. "Alfred Pennyworth, it's been awhile since I've seen you. You look good per usual."

Bruce tries not to roll his eyes when Alfred gives him a pointed look for the woman's comment, "Thank you. Not everyone here seems to share that opinion, but yours is much appreciated as it's the right one to have." Leslie gives a chuckle at the words and gives Bruce a once-over, noticing the stress in the man's stance alone, "Yes. But can you blame him? You've done so much for him, Alfred, one of those things being fretting over his lack of self-care and concern for himself, though I hear there is a role reversal here as he is now claiming you aren't being as concerned for your well-being."

Alfred hums and waves his hand, "He's imagining stuff cause he doesn't get enough sleep. I have told Bruce time and time again that one day it would have negative effects on him, and now it seems that hour has come as he claims I'm forgetting things I know for a fact I know. Maybe you should be checking his head instead?" Leslie chuckles yet again and gestures for Alfred to head into the examination room first. "Well, I will definitely be the one making sure that any claims being made are false or not. It would be foolish of me as a doctor to wave off the concerns of one of my best-worst patients, especially considering who he is."

Bruce opens his mouth to protest against the best-worst patient comment, but the door closes before he can complain to Leslie that any fight he's put up was for a good reason...even if he knows deep down that it actually wasn't.

Instead, Bruce sighs as the anxious thoughts come back at the silence surrounding him now, every good and negative scenario playing around in his head about what today's diagnosis could be...if there is anything at all, choosing to wrap his arms around himself in a hug and settle back into the chair as he focuses on those worrisome thoughts.

------

The crushing weight in Bruce's chest as well as the lightweight, almost dreamy, feeling the rest of his body is giving him is about to make him scream at the top of his lungs. He doesn't know how long it's been since he's anxiously patiently been waiting for Leslie and Alfred to return, he remembers seeing them awhile ago when the two left to run a few CT scans-which absolutely drove Bruce's distress up a few thousand notches-but Leslie just gave him a look that asked him if he trusted her...which obviously the answer was yes, so he bowed his head and settled back in his chair to wait until Leslie was done with whatever she wanted to do.

But who knows how long ago that was? Bruce stopped looking at his watch as he figured the amount of times he was looking at it was unhealthy, now he is left to his own biting thoughts and the feeling of being in a dream as every nightmarish scenario flashes through his mind.

He doesn't even know why he's overreacting...Leslie talked to him about running a couple scans on Alfred's brain to see if there were any changes to it, so it's not like the woman is surprising him with something unknown and unexpected, they talked extensively about the way things would go, will go, and even how it could possibly go. Bruce knows that the older woman mentioned every possible scenario-not only cause she's a great doctor-but for his sake...he knows how she knows his habits, down to his obsessive need to know every possible outcome if he can, and thankfully Leslie kindly fed him everything he wanted and more...so why?

Bruce hates feeling like a scared child who is waiting for someone-anyone-to comfort him, to give him what he needs because he doesn't feel like he can even process what that is-

"Thank you for your patience, Alfred. You are definitely much more patient than Bruce during checkups."

Bruce snaps out of his thoughts to give a playfully hurt look towards the woman, "I'm very hurt by that, doctor. The way you say that makes me think you have favorite patients around here...and I'm pretty sure that has to be against one of your many rules as a doctor." Leslie turns to Bruce with a smile on her lips from his comment, her own witty retort dying in her throat at seeing how pale the younger looks when she finally is able to eye him properly, with a soft sigh she gently utters, "Oh Bruce-" before giving the other a comforting look and handing Alfred over to an assistant of her's to be looked after so her and Bruce can speak about the older man's condition without any problems.

Bruce feels trepidation when Leslie carefully nods her head to the room where Alfred just got his checkup in, even though the other remains calm and relaxed, he still feels like whatever he'll hear will be something he doesn't like...something he's scared of.

"Leslie..."

The woman quickly looks up at Bruce from the sound of her name being whispered, her usually sharp gaze softens at the uncertainty written over the other's face, her hands automatically reaching out to grab Bruce's clammy hands in her warm one's so she can warm them up. "I haven't even said anything yet, Bruce. Just breathe with me." 

This whole moment feels all too familiar for both Bruce and Leslie, the last time the doctor remembers holding the other in such a way was the night her best friend and his wife died...she remembers the pain of having to look over her own friend's body, as well as the overwhelming sadness she felt when Bruce dropped by with that still small hope that maybe she saved at least one of his parents. She remembers holding onto his hands in the exact same way because he was already starting to panic at the mere thought of what she could say, even if somewhere deep down he knew they were dead, it didn't mean that he wanted to hear it be confirmed, especially by someone who feels like his Aunt.

Leslie feels Bruce squeeze onto her hands tightly, her mind going back to hands that felt so much smaller and dirty with blood and grime from Crime Alley, her heart aching as she watches the much older Bruce go through the same process he did years ago of taking a deep calming breath in and out.

She hates being the one to give out bad news...especially to Bruce, but she knows that it's a part of her work.

When Bruce opens his eyes and stares at Leslie with a much more clear-eyed look, the woman gives a small smile to show how proud she is before shedding her role as concerned Aunt and putting back on her professional doctor one. "Bruce, I know we talked over the phone about all the possibilities of this visit, and even some things we could do to see what's going on with Alfred's brain-" the man nods and swallows nervously, his hands tightening their grip on the woman's own at the prickle of fear that touches his heart at the words-"You were all for doing anything we could to see what's going on, including the CT scans. And...there is nothing showing up on them."

Bruce slumps with relief and releases a loud breath he didn't even know he was holding, his gaze growing confused as to why Alfred is being so forgetful. "I don't get it...if nothing is showing up, why is Alfred having trouble remembering things he used to know and forgetting to do things he did before? I know...I know we talked about it possibly being Alzheimer's or Dementia, but it should show up, shouldn't it?" Leslie takes a deep breath to prepare herself for what she has to say, "That's not the way it works, Bruce. If it's in its early stages then it won't show up on the scans, though I do find it peculiar as it does sound as though Alfred's mind is forgetting things rapidly, but, we shouldn't immediately cross out Alzheimer's or Dementia just because of a couple failed scans."

Bruce doesn't know if he feels better or worse from the news...if anything, he kind of feels numb right now.

"I-...what do you think it sounds like?"

Leslie frowns at the question, shaking her head, maybe because she knows Bruce so well she's holding back...and maybe she's being a little selfish? But she's sick and tired of being the bearer of bad news, especially to a man like Bruce who seems to only know tragedy, however, at the desperate look in the man's eyes, she just sighs softly and concedes to the prodding look. "I think it sounds like dementia for right now, which is more like an umbrella term for more specific conditions that effect someone's memory or thinking skills. To be honest with you Bruce, it could end up being anything...especially since Alfred has served in the military, right? That much you do know about his past, he could have brain trauma that I don't know about."

Bruce pauses at the thought and carefully pulls away from Leslie's warm hands, stepping away when the woman reaches out for him as he does so, "What am I supposed to do then? I can't treat a problem that's not even showing up and I can't find a cure for something that doesn't have one."

Leslie pulls back her hands and holds them to her chest, gripping them tight so she doesn't attempt to reach out for Bruce again, she should handle this one step at a time...just like when he was eight. "Bruce, look at me-" she waits patiently for the man to look at her, her gaze unwavering and tone firm as she reassures the younger. "None of this is your fault, do you hear me? I know what you're thinking and I think you should stop thinking it right now. You don't have to do anything, because the harsh truth is: there isn't anything you can do for Alfred but be there for him. You can also leave it to me and my team to try and figure out the issue and if there is one, especially that can be seen-in fact, it doesn't even have to be me who helps Alfred...say the word and I'll get you the best Doctors I trust to try and work this thing out."

Bruce feels the tears gathering in his eyes, he hates being told there's nothing for him to do...he knows that, that's why it hurts so much. It seems that whenever he's told he can't do something for someone, it's because something bad has or will happen.

"I don't-Leslie I...I don't want to just sit there. You know what happened the last time I sat still? My parents died-" Leslie's eyes widen and she swoops in to quickly dry Bruce's teary eyes, her own hazel one's watering in sadness. "Which wasn't your fault, Bruce. It wasn't your fault then and whatever is going on with Alfred isn't your fault now. I promise you that it's not your fault, just-just be there for him like you're doing now...it is helping more than you could ever know, just like Alfred did for you when what happened to your parents happened."

Bruce hugs onto Leslie, sniffling into her coat and shaking his head as he whispers, "But it was-is my fault! You tell me to do nothing, but doing nothing is exactly what got them killed in the first place...maybe I'm not doing enough? Maybe I need to do more and Alfred will-" Leslie pulls away from the hug slightly to look at Bruce, "He'll what? What do you think will happen if you 'do more'? Will Alfred's problem suddenly go away? Will he miraculously be healed? Tell me, Bruce, where do you plan to start anyway? What exactly will you be doing for him?"

Bruce's hands fist at the lab coat in distress, his eyebrows pinching together as he desperately tries to think of an answer, his mouth opening and closing as though he's a fish out of water and his lower lip wobbling as it does when he's trying not to cry.

"I-..."

Leslie runs her hand across Bruce's head in comfort, her slightly stern gaze softening at realizing what he's trying to say. "It's okay, Bruce...I promise it'll be okay."

Bruce lets the tears fall as he confesses, "I don't know! I don't know what I'd do and I hate it. I just want to help, Leslie...I just want to help." Leslie hugs onto the younger and takes the full weight of her nephew against her, unbothered by his heavy weight nor his size, "You are helping him. I know you don't see it now, but you are, you are doing so much for him despite how much Alfred doesn't want it. We both know that whether his mind is fully intact or not, that he'd still be disgruntled about the whole thing, yes?"

At the slow nod against her neck, Leslie sighs softly, grateful that Bruce doesn't feel like arguing against her claims right now...she doesn't know if she could handle arguing right now anyway, because the thought of one of her closest friend's slowly losing himself; losing his memories, does worry her too. She's come to bond with Alfred over the years, and it all started with Bruce, how they both cared for him and were concerned with his health-both mental and physical-after witnessing his parents murder, it seemed after that, their friendship only continued to blossom as they realized they enjoyed similar stuff. Bonded over their shared love of Bruce Wayne.

The wetness on her collarbone brings Leslie back to attention, her heart aching for Bruce and how he must feel right now, because while the scans showed nothing...it doesn't mean that nothing is wrong with Alfred, and she knows that until there is an actual diagnosis she can give to him, Bruce will be imagining every worse case scenario until then.

"Be still with me, Bruce, just be still and quiet."

Bruce sighs into Leslie's shoulder, "I didn't even say anything-hey!" A flick to his head cuts him off, he tries to sound upset-tries mustering up some sort of indignation in his tone, but it comes out quiet like a whisper. "You aren't saying anything out loud, Bruce, but I can practically hear your head screaming at you. Don't-...it's great to have plans for the future, but remember to live in the present...no matter how much it may suck." Leslie slumps further in relief when Bruce squeezes her just a bit tighter, she never knows how saying things like that will go over with him, but the small, breathy chuckle breathed against her neck for her honesty makes her smile and squeeze onto the younger.

Despite her own worry's, Bruce's present laughter and comfort is all she needs to believe everything will work out just fine.

------

Alfred stands a bit taller when Leslie and Bruce exit the examination room, his forehead crinkling in worry at his son's red eyes and exhausted appearance overall, what could have possibly made him look that way? The older man feels somewhat soothed when Leslie's eyes meet his; strong and assured as the corners crinkle with her small smile, the doctor whispering to Bruce and Alfred how she'll be in touch before sending the two on their way.

Alfred follows Bruce out to their car, resting his hand gently on the crook of the other's arm when they are finally alone, "Master Bruce."

Nothing.

"Master Bruce?"

Alfred sighs softly when the other doesn't answer, his lips twitching into an amused smile when the younger comes to as soon as he tries grabbing the car keys.

"I told you I can drive, Alfred."

Bruce turns to glare at Alfred, his face immediately softening at the tenderness in the man's gaze. "Alfred? Are you-what's wrong?" The older man looks down at his outstretched hand reaching for the keys now clenched tightly in Bruce's own, his shoulders shaking lightly at the soft laugh that escapes his lips. "I just remembered how you were the exact same way when you were younger-" at Bruce's questioning look, Alfred smiles more and sighs-"Anytime you asked to do something for me, you would inevitably pause in doing it and become territorial over your task when I came to do it myself."

Bruce quickly glances down at his balled up fist when Alfred softly taps it, looking back up to see the other looking nostalgic.

"You would clench onto whatever it was I came to retrieve from you just like this, never letting go and demanding you could do it because you promised." Bruce tries to hold back his embarrassed blush when Alfred looks back up at him, knowing he must have failed as the gunmetal colored orbs glance from cheek-to-cheek fondly. 

Instead, he clears his throat and nods his head softly. "Well...it's still true. I can do it and will do it because I said I could, and nothing could ever change that...and I mean nothing."

Alfred is taken aback by the sudden intensity in Bruce's tone, his head tilted the tiniest bit in curiosity, he isn't sure if this is Bruce's way of distracting him from the blush or something else entirely. He's guessing it must be whatever happened inside of the hospital, which is why he hums softly in question. "What exactly is nothing to you, Bruce? I am all for leaving myself in your care for the drive back home, but if you are going to be spacing out like you're an astronaut, then I must ask for the keys."

The weight that seems to be an ever present feeling in Bruce's chest feels lighter at Alfred's little joke, his nose scrunching up as he tries not smile.

"C'mon, Al. I'm trying to be serious right now...I'm not supposed to smile-what? What is it now?"

Alfred doesn't know if he's ever smiled this much, but he's glad that his attempts to get Bruce to smile worked, there's always been...something about the younger smiling that brings him a peace and joy that's unexplainable. "That sounds familiar, sir. I believe that's something you always said to me as well, always tried to copy my stern looks when you could-I daresay you were trying to be me."

Bruce relaxes into his seat while nodding his head in agreement, "I was trying to be you. You were my friend as well as my role model...I thought you were fascinating; like those stoic, tough guy characters I would see in my comics and cartoons. It was like a dream coming true for me when I was old enough to realize that you were here to stay as well as my Butler, you know? I remember bragging to other kids that they didn't have an Alfred in their lives."

Alfred raises a brow, "You bragged that they didn't have an Alfred? Not a Butler who just happens to be named Alfred?"

Bruce sits in thought for a moment, just now realizing how silly it is to brag to someone else-essentially-about someone's name and the person themselves, not their job or position they hold.

"Well...yes? Yeah, I did, okay? I don't regret it though, I made everyone jealous over that...I knew it wouldn't take long for them to realize how cool you were like I did." Bruce turns to stare at Alfred again, finding the man hasn't yet looked away, he really is trying hard not to laugh...but they've kind of gotten off topic and Bruce really can't handle the happiness on Alfred's face, nor can he ignore any longer the laughter bubbling up in his chest. Of course, he cracks first with a light chuckle, just now realizing-by the look on Alfred's face-that he was planning to make him laugh from the beginning.

Alfred smiles proudly and glances down at the hand holding onto the keys, noticing that the appendage is no longer balled up, but loose and relaxed: mission accomplished then.

Even though Alfred didn't get an answer to his inner question as to why Bruce was so distressed, he thinks that this result is much better, and that whatever is going on, can wait to be addressed another day. For now, he just pats Bruce's hand comfortingly and buckle's himself in, "There's a good lad. Now that I can trust you to not cause an accident, you may begin driving us back home so I can prepare our lunch."

Bruce starts up the car after buckling himself in, his smile remaining as he responds in a way that's all too commonplace for him. "Yes, Alfred."

XXX

Everything since the hospital visit became a blur for Bruce, he tried to take Leslie's reassurance and instructions to heart-and sometimes, sometimes he felt as though it was easier to handle some days. Feeling as though the overwhelming feeling of dread was nothing but a mere whisper in the back of his mind on the good days...but the bad days, the bad days just only seemed to dig deep into Bruce's mind that there's nothing he can do for Alfred, that no matter how much the other forgets and even asks questions about what's going on, that there's nothing he can say that could truly soothe the others deteriorating mind.

And now...

Now Bruce has to stop being the Batman so often to take care of Alfred, which isn't necessarily an issue he supposes...Alfred did always want him to retire or take a break.

Bruce just never imagined the reason would be because his dad is unwell.

And-

.

..

...

....

He's afraid.

Afraid of being forgotten...I mean, isn't that a type of death in and of itself? Bruce's heart clenches in sadness whenever Alfred gets his name wrong or mixes his childrens names up, nothing about it is...normal, not in the regular ways someone could forget a name. Bruce can see by the look on Alfred's face that he sometimes genuinely doesn't recognize who it is he's talking to; Barbara could be Kate because they are both redheads, or Richard-Jason, all because they have black hair and blue eyes...nevermind the completely different voices and builds, something that Alfred no longer pays attention to.

Bruce just...he doesn't want to be forgotten; who does? Especially by someone you love and cherish with all your heart.

He just worries about what Alfred's future may look like-and if he's being completely honest with himself for one second; he wonders what his future would look like without Alfred, without his dad here to guide him and knock some sense into him.

Alfred's memory seems to be getting worse day by day, which Bruce didn't know could even be possible, but the man seems to be declining in health every few months. He remembers a hard conversation he had with Leslie over the phone one late night, the woman told him that Dementia and Alzheimer's can lead to death--something he knew that she knew he knew that, he used to visit sick patients with his father when younger after all, and some of those patients had such issues.

But, not once did Bruce ever think that anyone in his family would be one of those patients someday. He feels ill prepared for all this despite living with this harsh reality for about a couple years now, he feels as though he failed Alfred and his family in someway.

Isn't he supposed to be the man with a plan?

And now with Alfred's rapidly declining health, Bruce is just worried that it means his death is all that much closer. How long will his family have with Alfred? How long will he have with Alfred? Bruce sighs loudly and rubs his temples to relieve the pressure, he knows that thinking such things aren't doing any good for him...but someone has to think of the future, right? Someone has to be willing to admit the tough things happening?

Even at your family's expense? They are here for you, Bruce. They are here for Alfred, and yet you constantly bring up his death when it hasn't happened or isn't happening now.

Bruce huffs at his own thoughts...he knows how reasonable that thought is, but at the same time, he just wants to prepare his family for the inevitable...even if they have experience with deaths dealings. He just...doesn't know how or why they continue to live their lives as of nothing is going wrong, it's kind of--Bruce blinks his way out of his thoughts at his phone buzzing, the simmering frustration built inside of him flaring up at what the text says.

Jay-Bird: Clark and Diana are coming over. Is that okay?'

Why didn't they just call me instead?

Bruce narrows his eyes at the text bubbles going in and out. Is Jason trying to find an excuse for them? He doesn't need baby-sitters. He's doing just fine at home with Alfred on his own, he doesn't need people constantly being around him...watching him, giving him pitiful looks-he's fine.

Jay-Bird: They weren't sure if you were busy, didn't wanna bother you just in case. They stopped by to hang out with us before asking if it's fine to head to the Manor, is it okay?

Bruce grits his teeth together. He wants to say no, but at the same time...he...wants their companionship. It's just that he doesn't need them to pity him or feel they have to watch over him all the time...Bruce can't even recall just how many times the two have visited lately, they just always make time for him, maybe cause they feel they need to keep an eye on him?

Bruce isn't blind...he sees the way his friends look at him-sees the way his children stare at him too-not understanding their concern for him. He's fine.

Bruce shakes his head to clear his mind, he wonders what would happen if he says no. They would respect his wishes no doubt...unless they were absolutely convinced they needed to come by that is, but he knows his kids would ask him about it when they come home. So, the only option is to reassure Jason that he is alright by allowing them to come over, just to show the other that he's okay.

It's okay.

Bruce bites his lip while waiting for a response...what if Jason is asking questions about why he took so long? He doesn't want his kids to be burdened by him when there's nothing going on, he just took a little time to respond is all.

The ping of his phone makes Bruce jump in his seat, his eyes choosing to water at the simple texts left for him.

Jay-Bird: 'kay dad. 

Jay-Bird: Love u

I love you too, Jason.

He has never replied so quickly before to something in his life, but despite his own inner turmoil, one thing he's sure about is how much he loves his kids.

Bruce puts his phone down and rubs at his face, he feels like he's experiencing emotional whiplash lately, one second he's angry at himself or something his family did and then the next second the anger is gone. At least he'll be calm enough to tolerate Diana and Clark's presence...he just hopes that seeing them won't rile up the irritation again.

Bruce tries not to sigh too loudly at hearing two pairs of feet shifting around outside of his office, he doesn't want the two to think he's bothered by anything, so he settles for rolling his eyes and quickly rising out of his seat and heading for his closed door, opening it and raising a brow at the two supers when whatever silent conversation they were having is abruptly cut off by his sudden appearance. The sigh he was trying not to release escaping him anyway at the guilty looks on his two friends faces, "What's with the looks? And why are you both standing outside my office like two guilty children?"

"Why do we have to be two guilty children?" Clark frowns down at Bruce, feeling relieved at seeing the scowl turning into something lighter; something amused.

"I heard you shuffling your feet out here...it's what my kids do when they are guilty of something. I've tried to correct little tells like that in them, but they do it more in this house than outside it...unless it's a really bad situation."

Diana smiles kindly, "That's good. It means they act that way cause this house is a home to them, they feel comfortable, though I'm sure you know that already." Her ocean blue eyes carefully take over Bruce's form, noticing how haggard the younger man looks...she could ask him about how he's doing right now and risk upsetting him? Or, she could ask him more about his kids and give him a chance to unwind a bit?

It's obvious which one is her choice.

"Surely all of your kids don't do the same exact things, right?"

Bruce is either too tired to notice Diana's thoughtful distraction or is choosing to ignore it, either way, he doesn't bother putting up much of a fight when the Amazonian links their arms together and leads them slowly to his bedroom and out on his balcony to relax.

"No, they don't always do the same things. They only shuffle their feet when I can't see them, they must think I can't hear them, but I can. Richard tend to play with the back of his hair, there's this one spot that's particularly wavy and textured and I guess the feeling of it soothes him? He's done that since he was a child." Bruce smiles at the memories of a nine-year-old Richard being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and immediately reaching up and back to fiddle with that once piece of hair. "And Jason, he tends to ball his fists up...I wouldn't doubt that it's because of anger sometimes, but I think his nails digging into his skin grounds him, even when he isn't upset. It's another thing I've tried to help him not do, he hurts himself that way, you know?"

Diana hums softly and nods, resting her chin on both her hands and looking at Bruce as if he's sharing the world's greatest secrets with her.

"Then Tim...he does a lot of stuff actually. But he tends to be a lip biter or tap his index finger against stuff when he's stressed out or lying to me, the only way to get him to stop gnawing at his lip sometimes is to gently grab his face in my hands and remind him to stop. I think he does that so his thoughts don't spill out of his mouth, but I hope he's able to stop thinking I or anyone else don't care to hear his thoughts."

Bruce pauses at the steaming cup of chamomile tea held out to him, his hope rising with the thought of it being Alfred who prepared the tea, but immediately taking notice how smooth the hands are and realizing it's just Clark.

"Thanks..."

The painful heat of the cup feels oddly nice against Bruce's hands, his instincts are telling him to pull his hands away from the painful warmth, but another part of him feels weirdly at peace from the pain. He doesn't wish to make his friends worry though...so he sets the cup down on the table to let it cool before he holds the cup or drinks from it. Clark settles down in the seat next to Bruce after handing Diana her own cup, "What about the rest of your kids? Barbara, Steph, Cass, Damian? What about your cousin? Does she do anything in particular too?"

Bruce nods, once again being distracted by the topic at hand.

"Steph tends to lick her lips a lot, she often uses the excuse that she has dry lips, but I can tell when it's not dry lips. Barbara tends to swallow excessively, something that couldn't be as noticeable to some people, but I'm half convinced she gets a spit overload when attempting to lie. You should have seen her when she was a teenager, it was almost hilarious how easy it was to see her lie, though she's definitely gotten better over the years...something I don't know whether to be proud about or bothered by." Bruce pauses to take a careful sip at his tea, humming at the immediate relieved sensation in his mouth and throat, he didn't realize how thirsty he was until now.

"Cass is an exceptional liar, so is Damian. For Cass though, sometimes I think the only reason I can tell she lies is because somewhere inside herself, she doesn't desire to lie to me, so she purposely gives me signs that she is in the hopes I'll realize and correct her for doing so. I think it was because of her upbringing, certain things she does-even the normal things-she sometimes feels the need to hide it or lie about it out of shame for desiring such things, but then she feels guilty about lying and gives me cues to let me know she's not being honest. She shifts her eyes a lot since speech can be hard for her, or she picks at her nails."

Clark hasn't taken a sip of his drink yet and neither has Diana, the two are too invested in Bruce's gentle voice talking about his children.

"Then Damian, he's such a good boy, he is actually one of the most honest surprisingly. Even when I first met him, if he wanted to take on a mission on his own; he'd tell me, sometimes he'd angrily let me know in advance that he'll try to sneak out, something that he knew I knew...and yet he usually managed to escape me anyway. Over the years though, he's learned to trust me, and just like Cass, he's a good person and doesn't desire to lie to me, especially since I'm his father. But, he also tends to not make eye contact, something that's developed from his time over here, and his lower lip tends to jut out into a pout...something I did when I was small too apparently, anyway, he'll probably grow out of it just as I did."

Clark and Diana quickly look at each other, which one of them is going to tell Bruce he still pouts despite being a grown man?

The two decide against it and allow Bruce to finish, "And my cousin Kate? To be honest, I give out advice when she needs it and that's about it. Maybe it's because she's older than me and also not one of my kids exactly-"

Diana tilts her head, "Exactly?"

Bruce nods, "Exactly. She acts like the kids sometimes...but at the end of the day she insists I don't hover around her or scold her as much as she's not my kid-"

Clark smirks and interrupts with a small snort, "Not exactly that is."

Bruce finds himself smiling at the comment and nodding again in agreement, "Not exactly. However, she's still family and we still look out for each other, if anything, sometimes I think she hovers around me just as much as the kids or Alfred do when she can...she says it's 'older cousin duties' or some crap like that. But, I'd say the tell I remember the most that she still does today is get a little too angry and defensive when you say she's lying, I keep trying to tell her she'd be a near perfect liar if she could get rid of that temper...or the red hair."

Diana chuckles and finally sips at her warm tea, "What does the red hair have to do with her temper?"

Bruce stares at the older woman as if she grew another arm, "Are you serious? We all know having red hair or being short is the cause of fiery tempers in people."

Diana, sweet, sweet, Diana still doesn't understand a lot of regular human jokes or comments and looks completely baffled at the information. The woman making Bruce curious as some sort of understanding shines in her eyes, "Oh! I see. Is that why you and Damian are so angry all the time? Well, maybe not all the time, but you both get easily angered."

Bruce narrows his eyes at Clark for his laughter, his lower lip unknowingly jutting out into the inherited pout. 

"No! Damian is short, but I'm not. I'm tall."

"Says every short person." Clark continues sipping at his tea after whispering to Diana, quickly having to put the glass down after Bruce chucks a pillow at his face.

"You know what, Clark!?"

Said man just laughs louder and holds Bruce's gaze with his own amused one, "I do. And it's that you're short." Clark smirks victoriously when Bruce just huffs and settles back into is seat, his midnight blue eyes drift over to Diana to see her reaction, smiling more when the woman just shakes her head fondly, hiding her smile behind her cup at Bruce turning his glare onto her instead.

It grows silent between the three...but it's a nice kind of silence, even in spite of Bruce's grumbling. The man relishing in the comfort his friends presence bring him, closing his eyes as the wind gently blows and gently caresses his cheek, it's...nice, relaxing in a way Bruce feels he hasn't felt in awhile. He almost doesn't know if he should be thankful for this moment of reprieve or feel guilty, especially when Alfred is getting wor--

"Your kids seem to be doing well."

Bruce opens his eyes and keeps them trained on the foggy sky, humming in response to Diana's whispered admission: "I hope so. How were they tonight? How's everything going?"

"Don't start worrying now, Bruce. Things are well as I said, not just with your kids, but with Gotham...at least for tonight it is. They were all gathered near your favorite gargoyle tonight eating some snacks that you made for them apparently." Bruce's gaze drifts away from the night sky and back down to Diana, looking offended by the disbelief in the other's tone at the thought of him cooking anything. "I grew up with a man who handmade food and was always in the kitchen if he wasn't tidying up my house  AND I trained with a group of monks for who knows how many years in the mountains? Of course I learned how to cook for myself."

Diana throws her hands up at Bruce's defensive tone.

"What's with the tone? All I said is that you made snacks for your kids. I didn't know you made snacks."

Bruce raises his brow, "You emphasized the 'you' when you said it. What, Diana? Do I not look like a man who can make snacks for his kids? Is that what you think, that I'd let my babies starve?"

Diana looks increasingly more amused the more the shorter speakers to her, "No. You wouldn't let anyone starve, not even your worst enemy. I just...didn't know you baked or cooked anything, you've never done it in front of me or Clark before, plus the fact you always have Alfred cook or prep meals...so isn't the logical conclusion that-"

"That I'd let my children starve?"

Diana lets out a giggle at Bruce's dramatics and covers her mouth with her hand to try and dampen her smile.

"No-" she laughs out the word-"I just...you don't look like you'd cook. There, I said it. Is that a crime to say?"

Bruce shakes his head, "Is it because I'm Batman?"

Diana throws her head back with a loud laugh at her friend's conclusion of the matter, her eyes sparkling with adoration for Bruce when she looks back at him. "Isn't everything because you're Batman? But, no. That isn't why. I just didn't think you'd cook because of how often you don't cook, especially when me or Clark are around, you usually take us out to restaurants. Isn't that right, Clark? I'm not alone in thinking he never cooks."

The man looks between Bruce and Diana, his apologetic gaze landing on Bruce.

"I didn't know you cooked either-" Clark chuckles at Bruce's eye roll-"To be fair...I don't think anyone you know inside or outside of the cowl thinks you cook. There are bets in the League and this topic is one of them, seems we owe some people some money, Di."

Diana nods her head in agreement and turns back to Bruce, feeling pleased at how much relaxed he looks now, the fake irritation on his face settling into something serene.

Bruce sighs softly and smirks the tiniest bit, "I understand why people wouldn't think I cook. But I do and I'm very good at it-" a pause-"Though what I don't understand is how we got off topic talking about my kids and there well-being. I don't know how I mange to hold a conversation with you two, feel like we change topic every two seconds." Bruce looks between Clark and Diana, "But, to answer: the type of snacks were cookies. I made three different kinds for them to eat: chocolate chip, peanut butter, and snickerdoodle."

Clark licks his lips and looks at Bruce hopefully.

"Is there any chance that we'll be able to taste your famous cookies?"

"How are my cookies 'famous' when you didn't even know I baked in the first place?" Bruce looks questioningly at Clark and shakes his head. "And sorry, but you won't be able to taste them tonight because my kids took them all. If I didn't pack everything away for them to take, they would have hounded me about it and bugged me until I caved and gave them all the cookies."

Bruce looks back up to the sky and softly hums.

"Topic change again...but I...appreciate you both for coming to check in on me, even when it grates on my nerves sometimes. And for not asking me how I was doing even though I knew how much you wanted to."

Diana and Clark look slightly guilty at having been found out, but they expect nothing less from the World's Greatest Detective.

"I'm not sure I would have answered anyway if one of you asked...I probably would have brought up...my kids...instead." Bruce trails off and looks to Diana in surprise at realizing why she brought up his children in the first place, the woman smiling tenderly at the man and simply nodding her head at him, knowing exactly what he's thinking.

Bruce finds himself relaxing more into his seat, ignoring the tears gathering in his eyes at the thoughtfulness of his friends and family, his mind automatically going back to Alfred and all the ways he's been there for Bruce in his time of need and desperation. He really wished that he could do more for Alfred, but he knows he can't, he knows that all he can do is reluctantly follow Leslie's advice and simply stay with his dad...no matter how much it sucks to watch the man forget. 

Bruce looks down into the remaining tea in his cup, the painful heat from before now a cool sensation in his hands.

"I..."

Diana and Clark immediately look to Bruce at the slight tremble in his voice, both noticing the way his thumb caresses the glass nervously, taking in the way his eyebrows pinch together in thought of what he wants to say. Their friend has never been the best with words, at least when he thinks hard about it that is, but they know whatever Bruce desires to say must be something he's been thinking for a long time, he only ever gets this hesitant when he plans to be really vulnerable.

They know they could urge him on...but in this moment, it's best to let Bruce get himself together as best he can.

.

..

...

....

.....

......

After sitting in silence for a few minutes, Bruce clears his throat, letting Clark and Diana know he's ready now.

"I hate doing nothing. I've already had this conversation with Leslie before in passing-when we first visited the doctor to get Alfred checked out. And I...hate not being able to have a solution, cause to me, having a plan is a sign of structure, and if you don't have one then bad things usually happen-" a shrug-" at least in my life that's what it means. If I have....something-anything, to keep my mind focused on, then I won't be consumed with my thoughts o-or the worry." Bruce frowns and taps his finger on the teacup, "Though I think I fail at that. I end up burdening the people I don't want to burden in the first place, all because I'm sc-" at that, he cuts himself off, his throat tightening up as realization sets in.

Of course...

He's scared.

That's not anything that should be too surprising, especially as he confessed he was scared to Damian awhile ago.

But hearing those words almost slip out of his own mouth in a moment he's thinking relatively clearly, in a moment of peace and stillness with two people he trusts with his life, it hits different.

A gentle hand on his shoulder causes Bruce to look up into the eyes of Clark, the man's smile proud but wobbly as he squeezes his shoulder softly. "You're scared, Bruce. And I hope you know that it's okay to be...I can't imagine what you must be feeling right now, but I know it must be difficult." Bruce waits for the familiar feelings of bitterness and anger to rise up at Clark's gentle words, but it never comes, instead, he feels his eyes warm with the familiar presence of tears and allows them to fall. "I-It's nothing new. I told Damian how scared I was what feels like not too long ago, Clark, so I don't know why I'm-"

Clark waits patiently as Bruce searches for what to say, his heart warming at his best friend leaning his cheek against his hand, seeking out comfort.

"I don't know why it feels...so much in my chest right now."

Clark smiles bittersweetly, his large hand gently wiping Bruce's tears. "That's love, B. You love Alfred a great deal, maybe what's happening is just reminding you of how much you do, that's why it hurts." Something settles in Bruce's chest as Clark says that--acknowledgement perhaps--of his feelings and why he hurts as much as he does recently.

He doesn't bother responding verbally, he just nods and allows more tears to fall, accepting his best friends comfort as Diana closes in on his left side and wraps him in a warm hug.

XXX

It's a week after Bruce had that little heart-to-heart with Clark and Diana, he found himself trying to adjust to the reality of his feelings and why they are so strong, which is why he suggested having a picnic with his family. I mean, what better way to cope than surround yourself with people who love you?

Bruce, however, found himself taking a little detour to his parents graves, having to reassure his children a thousand times that he'll be just fine before slipping off to clear his mind before lunch. Now he's standing at his parents tombstones, staring at the stones as if they offended him-but they haven't-he just is in deep thought about what to say first. "Mom, dad...I...know that I haven't visited lately, but there's so much that's been happening these past few months and year, I sometimes feel as if I'm not even aware for most of it. It...feels as though I'm watching everything through a third person point of view, but I've been trying my hardest to come to terms with everything that's happened and is happening."

Bruce swallows around the lump in his throat, God, he's tired of crying.

A soft breeze blows, carrying the scent of roses from the garden nearby in the air, the wind gently caressing Bruce's face in the same way a mother strokes her child's face.

"You may be wondering what everything is-" a heavy sigh-"I don't think I fully know what everything is right now, but Alfred might be really sick...and I mean really sick, not the kind that one just bounces back from, but the kind where it has you get worse until the inevitable happens." Bruce kneels down between Martha and Thomas, his hands resting on the cold stone for comfort, "I think I've been thinking too much about Alfred-you know? And I know it's not healthy, but I'm tired mom, I'm weary dad. I wish-" Bruce's voice trembles-"I wish that you both were here to help me. You two seemed to always know what to do then, and I know you would know what to do now, cause I-I don't."

Bruce bends his head to rest on his mother's stone while his hand rests on Thomas's, his tears dripping down onto his mother's rock.

"I'm lost and confused, some days I think Alfred might be less confused than me. Which is saying a lot as he's the one suffering with memory loss, but I guess-I guess I'm still that frightened eight-year-old who doesn't know what to do next." Bruce sniffles, his hands trembling and shoulders shaking as he breaks down in front of his parents, "I-I don't w-want my family to die anymore. I don't think my heart c-could take anymore darkness, I just need...Alfred, I need Alfred to get by. I can't lose another dad, I just can't!"

The words are a plea as he says them. Bruce doesn't care if he looks desperate or childish kneeling at his parents grave, he isn't concerned about whether or not he sounds immature begging for his parents guidance-for their love.

He's very much the desperate child that he feels like.

Bruce only has one more parent left, and for Alfred to meet such a fate as the one he's getting fills the man with rage, sadness, despair and uneasiness in a way Bruce didn't even think was possible...not anymore than usual anyway.

The wind blows again, stronger this time, as though it's trying to dry his tears quicker. Bruce squints at the random ray of sunlight that pokes through Gotham's dreary sky and warms his face, he doesn't know whether to be angry or laugh at this cruel joke; when he said he couldn't take anymore darkness, he didn't mean literally. However, the wind carries a different scent this time; forget-me-nots, causing a memory Bruce thought he forgot to come back-

------

"Master Bruce, would you please slow down and be patient." Alfred sighs at the boy and his enthusiasm, though he finds himself humored at the fact the child is so much like his mother when it comes to hobbies she enjoys. "At least allow for me to put on your sunhat lest you go outside and burn." It's as though ice was poured down the four-year-old's back with the way he stiffens up, a worried frown gracing the young boy's face as he turns to look up at his friend.

"Burn? I don't wanna burn, Alfie! Why would the sun do that? We're friends."

Alfred smiles fondly down at his young master, unable to resist squishing the pudgy cheeks as finishes tying the hat strings underneath the child's chin.

"Oh? But you are friends, young sir. The sun doesn't wish to burn you, you know? But your skin doesn't react well to the sunrays for too long, which is why your friend wants you to take the measures to protect yourself from it." Bruce puffs his cheeks out further at Alfred's cheek squishing, his irritation replaced by worry at knowing the sun doesn't mean to hurt him but does. "Then why don't I not wear anything? Wouldn't Mr. Sun feel bad knowing that I'm 'specting to be hurt by him?"

Alfred grabs the gardening tools, freezing for just a moment at Bruce's logic before humming in thought.

"I understand where you are coming from, Master Bruce, but Mr. Sun doesn't feel bad. He knows and understands that everyone is different, which is why he's fine with you wearing your sun hat, he knows that your skin reacts to him differently than someone else who has darker skin. Now, while darker skinned people can still get sunburned, Mr. Sun understands that you're most likely to get burnt easiest because of your light complexion,." Alfred holds out his hand for Bruce to take as he leads the boy outside and to the flower garden, the child looking thoughtful as he processes Alfred's words.

"So...Mr. Sun really won't be mad at me then?"

Alfred smiles down at Bruce, giving him an enamored look, chuckling and shaking his head.  "No, I can assure you that he won't be mad at you. In fact, you've made our friend in the sky very happy by putting on your hat-he says it's very lovely by the way."

Bruce smiles happily and shouts his gratitude to the sun for its compliment, letting go of Alfred's hand when they enter his mother's private garden, rushing over to the roses-as he usually does-to sniff at them. "You think we can pick mommy some roses, Alfie? She likes roses, and this one is very pretty like mama is." His chunky hand gently pats the flower he just sniffed, the butler eyeing the flower approvingly at how full the petals seem to be, his young ward seems to have a natural eye for the best flowers to pick. "I think that flower is absolutely perfect for your mother. Do you want to help me cut it off?"

Bruce nods his head enthusiastically, extending his hands out obediently when Alfred pulls out his gardening gloves, his little brows once again furrowing in worry. "And you're really sure Mrs. Rose doesn't mind us taking her away from her friends?"

Alfred kneels next to Bruce with an amused smile on his lips, it's always the same question from the young boy whenever they come out to pluck or prune the flowers. "I assure you that she doesn't mind. It's not like we take flowers everyday from this garden, and when we do take them away, we are using them for a reason. In fact, our darling friend here is okay with us using her as a gift or decoration." He smiles and holds the boy's small hands around the flower shear, waiting patiently for Bruce to continue this tradition by asking another question, humor bubbling up in his chest as the child does exactly as expected. "You said that about Mr. Sun too! How do you know all that?"

Alfred knocks his head against Bruce's gently, leaning closer into the boy as though he has a secret to share, even though he'll reply with the same response he tells the child every other time he asks this question.

"It's because I can speak to nature-" he finally allows his chuckle to escape at Bruce's shocked gasp, nodding his head to confirm what the young boy is thinking-"It's true, sir! I really can. That's how I know they don't mind us doing these things to them. Mrs. Rose here actually symbolizes passion and love, so to not use her as a sign or gift of the very thing she's made for is like a crime. We must honor her both in life and in death by showing love."

Bruce looks thoughtful before nodding his head, "And to honor her is by giving her to someone out of love."

Alfred nods, "Exactly that. So, I do hope you'll pluck her with me? She's been growing her beautiful petal dress out just for this moment, Bruce, she knew you'd want to gift her to your mother." With all concerns cleared from Bruce's mind, he has a new determination and finally allows Alfred to guide him to the stem of the flower to cut it, an excited shout escaping him when the flower is in his hands. "It's so pretty, Alfie. I think mommy will like it like I did-" Bruce smiles proudly up at Alfred, his gloved hand caressing the rose petals-"Her dress is fluffy too. Maybe you can make mama's favorite food and I can give Mrs. Rose to her?"

Alfred softens at the boy's innocent request, humming in response. "As you wish, Master Bruce. I would be delighted to cook Mrs. Wayne's favorite food." 

Bruce shouts excitedly and gently places his friend into his little basket, whispering his thanks for her hard work growing while "tucking" the flower in. Alfred watches on adoringly before looking over the garden for what plants he needs to propagate before starting on his task, listening out for Bruce as the boy helps water the flowers while talking to them.

Bruce is whispering something to a flower when his attention is caught at seeing a small cluster of pretty blue-purple flowers, a curious sound rising up in his throat at the small things seemingly hiding in a slightly shaded little nook of the garden. Hopping over to the flowers and smiling down at them, he holds out his miniature watering can and tilts it down so the water can rain down on the hideaways. "Why are you hiding? Everyone needs a drink too, including you friends. May I know why you are all alone? You don't have other flower friends to keep you company?"

He crouches into a squat and leans towards the flowers, tongue poking out as he strains his hearing to hopefully hear the voices that Alfred seems to, a small frown appearing when he hears nothing.

"You don't have to be scared. I'm helping Alfie garden, I bet you guys love him, huh? He says that he can hear you speak to him...and I hope that one day I can too." Bruce pauses to listen to the voices and sighs when there's still nothing, he wants to feel frustrated...but he needs to be patient and gentle, they might be scared. "It's fine if you don't wanna speak to me. I hope you all enjoyed the water? If I didn't see you over here, you wouldn't have gotten any! And I don't wanna 'magine what would happen if you never got your sippy's. I'm Bruce Thomas Wayne, I wonder who you are? I've never seen you here before."

Looking closer at the flowers, Bruce feels a bit more relieved to see that they don't seem to grow alone, in fact, they are all pretty piled together in little clumps. So at least they aren't completely alone over here...though they have less friends than his mommy's rose bushes.

"Forget-me-nots, young sir."

Bruce jumps and turns to look at Alfred who is kneeling next to him, the man looking at the tiny plants with a smile.

"Forget-me-nots? I don't 'member planting these here with you or mommy, Alfie." Bruce tilts his head and looks back at the flowers quickly when realizing his phrasing could make them think they aren't welcomed, "Which is fine! There's always room in our garden for more flower friends! But it is more polite to let us know you'll be arriving so we can prepare in advance for your stay."

Alfred sits on the plush grass with a small grunt, leaning onto his hand as the boy reassures the flowers with a small smirk.

"Yes, forget-me-nots. They grow in many kinds of places, but they tend to thrive in moist soils really. Maybe this year's rain brought in a new flower friend? Your mother and I didn't grow these this year, though I think it adds a nice color amongst the red's and pinks your mother tends to gravitate towards, hm? All hidden away in this little nook, they are glad you found them, sir, they were getting thirsty." Alfred smiles wider at Bruce puffing his chest out in pride, giving the younger his undivided attention as soon as the boy turns towards him with a curious look on his face.

"What do these forget-me-nots mean, Alfie? You said that roses mean passion and love, and I 'member you telling me that mommy's Dahlias mean...per-se-ver-ance and stuff, but what do these mean?"

Alfred nods in praise for Bruce sounding the larger words out. "Good job, Master Bruce. And forget-me-nots are a symbol of a few different things as most flowers are: devotion, royalty, true love-but I love these two meanings; remembrance and eternal love. You see, young Master, these flowers are a symbol that you will never forget your loved ones and treasure each and every moment and memory you've spent or shared with them, even when they are gone." He watches as Bruce's eyes shine with wonder at the meaning, following the boy's movements as he gently touches the small flowers and smiles pleased. "Then these flowers must have appeared for me and you, Alfie. They want us to 'member each other forever and ever no matter what."

Alfred didn't mean to let the surprise show on his face as Bruce gently picks a small cluster of the forget-me-nots, turns towards him, and hands him the mini bouquet with a wide smile on his face.

"I'll 'member you and the flowers forever, Alfie. Will you do it too? We can't forget as long as they are here."

Alfred blinks rapidly as his surprised mind processes the young boy's words, gently grabbing the small flowers from the chubby hand while he nods gently. "Of course I will, young sir. I'll never forget you as long as these flowers exist, I promise." He places the small bouquet in his chest pocket, plucking his own bundle and handing it over to Bruce as an official binding of their promise to one another, the four-year-old quickly accepting the gift and cradling it to his chest while glancing back to Alfred with big, hope-filled eyes. "You really promise?"

With a nod and a soft chuckle, Alfred bumps his head gently against Bruce's for the second time that day, uncaring that their sun hats have been knocked backwards.

"You have my word, Bruce. You have my word."

------

Blinking his way out of the memory, Bruce sits in silence to think about everything. He doesn't know if he feels better exactly? But, there is something warm growing in his heart, maybe something more bittersweet? 

With a tired sigh, Bruce slumps further against Martha Wayne's headstone. "Mom...dad...I think-I think I broke our promise-" He doesn't care of the sob that forces it's way out of his throat, he's tired and emotionally full yet drained at the same time, he just wants to cry-"I...I forgot about the forget-me-nots--I forgot about Alfred when I promised him I wouldn't. He's not even gone a-and I broke our promise by forgetting the memories."

Bruce closes his eyes as the wind blows, doing his best to listen to nature...who knows? Maybe this time it will answer him like he hoped as a child.

"Bruce? Is everything alright?"

Alfred's concerned voice startles Bruce, the younger turning quickly to face the older man with wide blue eyes, the concern in him growing at seeing how his dad is alone. "Am I--Alfred! What are you doing alone? Where are the kids?" At Alfred raising his hand, the younger freezes in place, sitting halfway up on his knees while holding onto his mom's stone for support. "I am not a child that has to be watched, thank you very much! And the kids are just fine, no need to get your knickers in a twist about it."

Alfred sighs at seeing the shameful look on his boy's face, walking forward until he's next to Bruce and lowering himself next to him with a loud groan, chuckling as his bones pop and creak.

"I'm not as young as I used to be, hm?" At his son's silence, Alfred frowns. He admits it...he's scared, he feels...different, and not in a good way. Everyday feels as if he's in a haze, as though he is just a wanderer with nowhere to go or no idea where they are at, but, he still has eyes and can see the childrens faces whenever he says something in particular; he can see Bruce's pain whenever the man is staring right at him. "It's okay, Bruce. You're okay."

Bruce's breath hitches at those words, his brows pinching together on distress of the statement.

"It's not okay..."

The response was so quiet that Alfred almost didn't hear it, but after processing what was just said causes the older man to frown. "And why are things not okay? As far as I'm concerned, you are still breathing and so are the kids, if that isn't okay-." Bruce shakes his head, "It's not okay! It's not! Life is stupid and unfair! You shouldn't be-..."  Alfred raises his brow at the immediate tapering off, ignoring how his heart is racing as his child mentions this...thing that they both know and are aware of that's been happening with him lately. "I shouldn't be what? I...don't know what's happening, Bruce, and I don't know what to do." 

Bruce gasps and finally makes eye contact with the older man at his hesitant confession, feeling guilt and shame at the uncertainty in those gunmetal blue eyes.

Of course Alfred has no idea what's going on...Bruce hasn't even told the other he might have dementia yet. 

Bruce rests a hand on Alfred's aged one, waiting for the apology to come out of his mouth only to remain silent, the lump coming back full force in his throat when seeing the small clump of forget-me-nots carefully resting in the older man's front coat pocket. "A-Alfie." His voice trembles and shakes as he whispers the name, the tears flowing down his face like a river as he shivers with chills all of the sudden, when did things get so cold?

The warmth of Alfred's hand against his wet cheek is a welcomed comfort, the only sound around being that of Bruce's sobs echoing through the gravesite, not even the wind giving a gentle whisper.

Bruce doesn't know how long he sat crying, how long he spent gripping tightly onto Alfred's suit jacket in desperation. He doesn't know why he feels overwhelmed by a tiny blue-purple flower...maybe it's because Alfred didn't forget all these years when even he did? Maybe it's because despite all of Alfred's confusion, he still holds fond memories closely to his heart, while Bruce's first instinct is to forget the best and prepare for the worst.

After a few more loud sniffles and choked cries, Bruce quites down enough to listen closely to Alfred's heartbeat. When did he lean into the man's chest?

I guess it doesn't matter.

It feels nice to just simply be with the other, no anxious thoughts left in his exhausted brain, only the thought of how nice the other's heart sounds. It's a bit quick, yeah, but at least it's moving under there and strong; alive.

"What's going on, my boy?"

Alfred brushes his shaky fingers through the black hair, using his left hand to gently rub at Bruce's back and waiting patiently for the younger to collect himself.

"Your flower. It's a forget-me-not. Just reminded me of something I had forgotten a long time ago-" Bruce sits up to stare at the other, his grip still tight around Alfred's suit jacket-"I'm sorry I forgot, Alfie. You...I don't know if you can recall? But, you told me once that these flowers are a symbol that one will never forget their loved ones and treasure each and every moment and memory they spent or shared with them, even when said loved one is gone...a-and I forgot that despite promising you I wouldn't."

Alfred 'ah's' quietly, chuckling softly and gently wiping Bruce's tears, smiling slightly at the younger man's displeased expression from his laughter.

"You silly boy of mine. I admit that I...can't mentally recall such a thing happening-" at Bruce's demeanor growing discouraged, he squeezes the other's pale cheek in the hand still cradling his face-"Stop thinking for one second, please, Bruce. I may not remember it in the ways one usually does, but from the promise we made, it seems as though you kept the promise as well as I. You still, after all these years, remembered such a promise and I-" he plucks one singular forget-me-not from the cluster in his pocket and places it on top of Bruce's hair-"did too. I remember how I felt during that moment...because when I look at this flower, I feel love and affection. Not for the flower itself, but for what I know in the depths of myself is attached to said flower."

Bruce's lip wobbles and he reaches up to grab the flower on his head, looking down at the tiny thing in his now much larger hands, letting himself feel the memories of his youth.

It's odd; the feelings he's getting. 

He feels amazement and joy looking at the plant, something he remembers feeling when he was younger and Alfred told him the meaning of this tiny flower, but he also feels love and deep affection...not for the flower in and of itself, but because of the feelings and person associated with said plant. Bruce hates that his eyes are watering again, but there's something oddly scary-yet extremely calming-about letting himself simply feel and remember the good times.

He guesses that maybe he got so used to the pain, death and darkness that he started to identify with it instead of simply acknowledging it's there and releasing it.

Alfred tilts Bruce's chin back up so that the younger is facing him head on, his smile loving and kind just like all those years ago. "I think that something is wrong with me, Bruce. I don't know what or why it is...but thank you for remembering our promise, thank you for never truly forgetting us. And while I may not know what's going on now...this old man asks that you keep remembering when I can't? That you-that you treasure every memory and feeling that comes with them."

Bruce lets out a weak chuckle at the renewed promise. "I promise I will, Alfie."

This time it's Alfred that looks at Bruce with big, hope filled eyes. "You really promise me?"

Bruce allows the tears to fall at the familiar words repeated right back to him all these years later, nodding his head and squeezing Alfred's hands in his.

"You have my word, dad. You have my word."

XXX

Ever since that day at his parents gravesite, Bruce found it easier to try and remember the good things, cause if nothing else, than because he made a promise to his dad. 

Of course, there were still days that were worse than other's, but for the most part, it felt as though a large weight lifted off of Bruce knowing he still had feelings to remember for him when his mind forgot goodness. Yes, it still hurts to see Alfred slowly deteriorating before his very eyes, forgetting mental images and things he's loved, seeing him forget even the most basic of life skills, but he likes to think he's learned to not only feel and process those heavy emotions, but how to share them with his friends and family.

And now.

Now Bruce stands in the doorway of Alfred's bedroom with watery eyes, watching as each of his children say goodbye to their granddad for the final time, processing the sadness as he watches his babies cry over the man who loved them just as fiercely as Bruce did. Everyone looks at him after they finish their own goodbyes, his body automatically tensing at the attention before he remembers this is his family; people he loves dearly, and that he can loosen himself up...that he can look just as heartbroken as he feels.

Bruce swallows down the tightness in his throat as he approaches Alfred's bedside, lowering himself slowly onto the edge, surprising himself at how he manages to look the dying man in his eyes.

"A-Alfred-" in and out, just as Leslie taught him-"Thank you f-for everything you've done for me...for all of us. When I was in the darkness you came in after me, it didn't matter how dark it was...s-sometimes I think you were even braver than I was." Bruce lets the tears fall freely; unashamedly, grasping Alfred's hand in his own. "I know you don't know what's going on, maybe even unaware of the words I'm saying. B-But I hope that even in these final moments, you know how much I love you? You taught me how to l-live, how to enjoy goodness in my life by you being good to me...sometimes-sometimes I felt like I didn't deserve it."

Bruce sniffles and shakily reaches into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a small bouquet of forget-me-nots, his smile wobbly as he holds them up in Alfred's line of sight.

"I really, really p-promise that I'll remember you as long as I live, as long as these exist. Y-You taught me that love is a simple thing; something genuine that can never be touched, warped or replaced when it's true-" Bruce feels his calmness crumbling, his shoulders shaking as he releases a loud wail, bending his head onto Alfred's shoulder as he cries for his dad, "I just--I'm gonna miss you and see you in everything, and I thank you for loving someone like me."

Bruce sniffles and sits up to look Alfred in his eyes, it's been so long since he or the family has seen clarity in the gunmetal blue orbs, but to everyone's surprise, the older man slowly looks down at the little flowers almost fondly. He feels frozen in place at the warm gaze being directed towards him, his heart pounding harshly at the small smile the older man gives before whispering. "Love...y-...ou...t-oo." Bruce's eyes widen in shock, his shoulders shaking in a mix of the overwhelming happiness as he laughs and cries harshly.

Something settles inside of Bruce's chest after hearing those words; acceptance.

It seems Alfred never truly forgot after all, his thoughts were just repressed. Bruce kisses his dad on the cheek one last time, his hands running through the very thin hair as his kids surround their grandfather in various colors of forget-me-nots, all promising to never forget him as long as they can love and feel.

Bruce smiles at his dad, surprising himself with how...genuine it feels. "You can go to sleep now, dad. You deserve the rest, we love you."

Alfred looks over his family one final time, a smile gracing his face as his eyes drift closed, his heart full with the love of the people surrounding him and the scent of an everlasting promise carrying him into a restful sleep.

(

"-when deep down he's that eight-year-old boy in a bloody alleyway, the red clinging to his legs and hands like a second skin." I'd like to point out how before that part I stated, "-maybe that's why death clings to him like an insecure child seeking affirmation from an adult or loved one?" I mention that because my intent was to show how Bruce compares death like a clingy child, but then I describe as death (the blood on his clothes and skin) clinging onto the eight-year-old him. 🥲🥲🥲

The part where Bruce admits to Clark and Diana that he's scared is supposed to be the moment he TRULY realizes he's scared. Maybe I don't need to explain it? But I don't know if I wrote it well enough to be understood that while he mentioned he was afraid before, that moment with his friends was a time and space where his mind could actually process his fear.

Okay, now that that's out of the way (I wanted to mention it before I forgot). I want to truly thank anyone and everyone who stops by for this story...I apologize if this is horribly written? I tried to take my time with this (it's been in my drafts since August) as I based this off of my grandma who has dementia.

This story was born out of the constant fretful worrying and sadness I felt at truly realizing my family and I are watching her slowly deteriorate before our eyes. But don't worry! I didn't have Bruce's severe denial about it though (and I'm not shaming anyone who struggles with similar thoughts either, you are loved and seen 💛) XD, I just wanted to write from a mindset of someone who does constantly agonize over the what-ifs of the possible future.

It was also based on my thoughts of wondering how my mom feels watching her mom forgetting everything and such, wondering if her inner self is scared and uncertain about these things as well. Not saying my mom does worry this much, but again, this story was based off of my curious thoughts and basing it off of someone who might be extremely anxious about the future of those they care about.

The situation is sad no doubt...but my optimism and hope shines through as I wrote Bruce slowly coming to terms with things, whereas at the beginning of this story, he was super angry, in denial and anxious. That is just my thought process about it I guess? I admit it's very hard and saddening to witness...especially as said sick person can grow anxious and scared cause they don't remember or know anything, but it's best to live everyday treasuring the memories and feelings you have of one another rather than stressing about tomorrow.

I want to encourage you as my readers to treasure your memories and feelings too ☺️. Even if one day your mind forgets...you ALWAYS remember how you felt, and those feelings are a kind of memory in and of itself, it just doesn't have the mental images to go with it.

The ending made me really sad when writing it 😭. I didn't realize how deeply this story got to me until I wrote Alfred passing on, especially as my own grandma is the grandparent my siblings and I have left-- Anywho! I'm probably sharing TMI, sorry my lovelies.

I hope the medical examination was written okay enough? I made it that way as I wasn't present when my grandma got her scans done and based the results out of my grandma's own, that's why I never went back to mentioning if Alfred has Alzheimer's specifically or anything...cause our grandma still hasn't gotten a very clear diagnosis rn. And I'm sorry if the speed of Alfred getting symptoms is maybe quick or odd? My grandma just kind of quickly declined in her memory after our grandad (her husband) passed, so that's why I also wrote and implied that Bruce thought it was caused from past (most likely undealt with) grief.

Also, I did my best when researching flower language ☺️, I hope I did okay? I chose the ones I really loved best as most flowers have multiple meanings anyway. I know there is more I wanted to say to you all here...but I speak too much as is 😂. Again, any and all who stopped to read are truly treasured, thank you so much!

Oh! Something I wanted to mention is how the ending isn't meant to glamorize Dementia/Alzheimer's (at least I hope it doesn't seem that way?), I just wanted something slightly hopeful and sweet to end on. I also based it off of some people's stories of their loved one having a random moment of lucidity before passing away.

That's truly all I wanted to share, so, thank you for reading my long notes always!

I hope everyone stays safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛💛💛💛)

[redpenship]

Did Eggman know Tails was gonna kill him when he did, I'm sure he was somewhat aware of Tails planning to or at least considering it maybe, but did he know when was tails planning to?

What were his thoughts on that last phone call between them? Every time I reread that part I always imagined him grinning when Tails quoted his words from the first day they met, it was such a good scene!!

Anyways big fan of yours! Have a great day.

To answer the first question, he knew that Tails trying to kill him would happen eventually, but he was mostly convinced that he could get what he wanted before that happened. Tails theorizes in the last chapter that Eggman had put him into a high pressure environment where murder for revenge/freedom was likely, but tried to stave that off as long as possible by giving Tails plenty of concessions and even letting him completely change the nature of the empire to be more palatable to him. This is mostly true! Eggman was trying to sell Tails on the empire because he wanted him to stick around. However, his plan was to release Tails as soon as the solution to the energy crisis was found. His fatal mistake, really, was choosing not to reveal this to him because he worried that a promise of eventual freedom would nullify the pressure he was putting on him.

Eggman did not know that Tails was planning to kill him when he got to the ARK. He'd come to a similar conclusion as Tails, where he believed the fox would only try to escape when he had the solution to the crisis so he could use it as leverage in negotiations with humans. With that in mind, he may have actually been pretty happy when Tails announced his intention to kill him! His only goal had been to save science. If Tails was openly planning to kill him, then it meant that he'd solved the crisis. His extremely risky and long-term plan of moulding a kid into someone capable of taking over the planet and saving science had worked! I can imagine that he would smile about it, even if he knew he was about to die.

Some fun background notes on how I characterized him behind the scenes:

If Tails had continued resisting in chapter one, Eggman would have let him go.

A lot of what Eggman does in chapters 1-3 is designed to test and nurture Tails' confidence. Tails comments on this in chapter eight, when he realizes that Eggman had been protecting him from developing an inferiority complex in relation to humans. (I'm diving into this a lot more in the sequel, where Eggman realizes that insecurity is what's holding back Starline from achieving his academic dreams. Most of Starline's chapters are flashbacks where they develop the Alhazen plan together).

Eggman generally does not like humans at all. I never really had him express this, but he was very bitter being born and raised on a planet where science didn't work because humans had been forced to flee their home world. This disdain was also solidified when he was frequently abused by the government as a child. I had originally given what they'd done to him a lot more detail, but I was forced to remove it and leave really vague implications instead because it was bordering on child sexual abuse territory and that was NOT a warning tag I was willing to put on a fanfic where a child was at the complete mercy of an adult for most of the story. I worried it would cast a dark shadow over his relationship with Tails, even when Tails wasn't the victim in question, so I took it out completely.

For the most part, Eggman pitied Mobians for evolving on a planet with messed up physics and as a result held a more neutral to favourable view of them. (I'm actually not a very big fan of works that portray Eggman as being some variety of human supremacist. I think he's more fun as a chaotic neutral type, or something more in line w/ his canon personality where he thinks he's superior to everyone regardless of their species haha).

I've said this a few times before, but he did genuinely respect Tails! He was really hoping Tails would come around and want to be in his empire, but unfortunately that did not happen. I think he may have been able to succeed if he'd caught Tails a little earlier, before Sonic had laid a strong moral foundation for him. That stupid hedgehog is always ruining his plans :(

Thanks for the question!!

[jinxedmuse]

let me back in — joshua hong, 홍지수

🎵 i keep thinking, maybe if you let me back in (did i fall out of line when i called you?) we can make it better, breaking every habit. pull myself together, you could watch it happen (when i told you, "i’m fine," you were lied to) let it happen, let it happen.

in which: reader and joshua are in a confusing relationship. a constant tug of war over who can get each other more in love, and more heart broken.

authors note: hii! tysm for the new support ! wish i could hug u all :( it means sm & truly motivates me to keep writing! plz enjoy this angsty one shot i whipped up a few nights ago while missing shua & having this song on loop!! ><

tags/warnings: afab reader x non idol joshua, unhealthy relationship, fwb except they’re barely friends, extremely angsty, mutual pining but they’re both too hurt to realize. mentions of the word sex but no actual smut, just suggestive moments. discussion that may come across as ‘arguing’ but they’re just genuinely learning how to properly communicate for the first time since they met…

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

joshua’s phone rang at exactly 12:00 am on his birthday.

just as a stream of constant messages poured in, wishing him a happy 27th birthday. another added year signifying he was truly growing up, catching up to time.

the number calling was one he hated himself for recognizing. for engraving so deep within his mind that he could practically say it backwards.

he mentally cursed himself more for what he did next; picking up.

“joshuuuuu” the voice sang out, your voice. on the other end, almost fully overtaken by the sound of what seemed like a club in the background along with laughter from your friends.

“this.. this is way out of line.” he begrudged out. it was wrong, so wrong for you to be calling. even worse for him to be entertaining it.

yet, here he was and he felt oh so genuinely content that you remembered his birthday after almost a year with no contact. now listen, in his honorable defense, shua was many things; dumb? wasn’t one of them.

however, when it came to you? his acquaintance, old friend, ex, situationship, fling, lover, whatever the hell you wanted to call it. he was, no, the first step is accountability. he is, way too smitten for you to have anything such as common sense.

“i know. trust me, i know. it’s just old habits die hard, you know?” you slightly slurred with a melancholic tone. as if reminiscing the countless times in your knowing of each other that this almost exact conversation has happened.

“yeah, i know. so.. what is it tonight?” joshua asked. slightly hopeful that you had more in mind then a simple birthday phone call.

“i have something for you, let me come over.”

his heart practically raced out of his chest. he could already imagine a string of thoughts; possible scenarios that could occur. but he had to put on a front, at least try to resist.

even if it was just a bit.

“at what point are we going to have enough of each other? isn’t this tiring?” he asked, feigning an exasperated sigh.

more than anything in this world he wanted this constant cycle to end, but more than anything in the world he wanted you, craved you, just as much.

the question rang in your ears. i mean genuinely, just what were you two still doing? both in your mid to late twenties playing a constant game of back in forth, banter through the pain that left you both feeling lonely for what? the nostalgia of it all?

at what point would this tug of war finally be bearable?

maybe when it ended.

regardless, you ignored his question. refusing to let the buzz of tonight’s choice of alcohol wither away into the depths of such a question.

“is it still the same address birthday boy?”

there was silence. followed by what seemed to be him getting up.

“yes.” he timidly replied. too embarrassed to acknowledge the fact that your grip on him seemed to be getting stronger each year.

“good!” you exclaimed. getting your purse and slinging it onto your shoulder, grabbing a full bottle of sikhye before gesturing to your friends that you were leaving and would call them later.

“why’s that good?” he asked, retreating to lay back down on his couch.

“it’s only like a 20 minute walk from the club i’m at.” you said nonchalantly while double checking your map app.

“no need, i’ll order you a uber. wait out front.” he replies. he then puts you on speaker and starts ordering the ride, wanting the quickest and most comfortable one that would bring you to him.

“why? i’m a fan of walking actually. i picked it up a few months ago. needed something to do to distract myself from you joshu.”

there was a pang in his heart that felt all too real. he hated when you guys weren’t on speaking terms and the fact that you could bring it up all so casually while he had difficulty even whispering your name to recount to his friends what happened this time.

“that’s great, i’m happy for you. but there’s no need to tonight.” and with that, the ride was purchased. uber black, all for you.

“why? a gentleman doesn’t let a lady walk alone? that’s certainly not coming from you i hope.” you mocked bitterly. trying to push away one of the many painful memories you’ve had since your entanglement with joshua.

“you never let me explain my point of view of that night.” he complained. the flash backs still all too real, as if they had happened just yesterday. a feeling of frustration and guilt making home in his heart.

the uber black suv pulled up to the side. a man coming out to open the back seat door for you as you tumbled forward, thanking him quickly. once you’re in, he closes the door and you focus of not getting car sickness as he departs.

there’s a twinge in your stomach that has you patting it gently. you lower your window and stick your head out slightly. the cool air of the night slowly waking you out of your drunken state.

there’s a few minutes of silence before joshua speaks up again.

“hello? y/n? you still there?” he asked, tone laced with worry.

the question made you laugh.

despite all that you two had went through. the unrequited high school love that soon turned to a torturous one. years of pining, unbelievable out burst of arguments, and some passion yet “casual sex” but you both knew all too well there was no such thing as ‘casual’ for you.

regardless, you were still here. on the way to his place at almost 1 am on his birthday.

“yeah. i’m still there.” you replied.

you both always joked that you were probably thriving soul mates in another universe. you guys read each others mind dangerously fast but it still took you by surprise when he immediately picked up on the heavy meaning behind your words.

“it’s okay. i’m still here too.” he answered. as if to let you know that you weren’t alone in this cruel yet daunting situation. because after all, it takes two to tango.

soon enough, the driver stopped in front of the towering condos. you get out, once again thanking him as you grab your stuff and try to pull yourself together.

what takes you by surprise is the fact that joshua is waiting for you outside. wearing all black, hair slicked back and phone still to his ear. a small smile appeared onto his face, he looked as handsome as ever.

it still made your heart race just as it did when you first realized you liked him all those years ago in high school.

you walked towards him, trying to remain in a straight line. the nerves of the alcohol no longer giving you the confidence which had led you here in the first place.

it isn’t until you’re a few feet closer to him that he starts walking forward to meet you.

you’d make a joke about his action and the symbolism it had in regard to your relationship (or truly lack-there-of) but it still hurt too fresh. was still too early.

“here. happy birthday” you said slightly shoving the sikhye into this arms. he hangs up the phone and takes it, holding it carefully.

“so, how’ve you been-“ he starts but you’re already walking way past him, making your way to his place which he left unlocked.

joshua’s not dumb. he knows you did it on purpose. small talk never having been your fortitude but it still hurt him.

you enter the condo, him following closely behind snd locking the door.

as you take off your shoes and set down your purse, you looked around. everything the same as the last time you were in here on your birthday, almost a year ago.

“i’ve missed you.” he says while setting down the sikhye on his marble counter top. the small lights on top illuminating him. he almost looked angelic.

he always knew just what to say to have you weak in the knees. it was infuriating.

“i’ve missed your nice ass place, do you always have the ac blasting like this?” you say as you flopped down onto his ridiculously soft beige couch. using one of the pillows to prop yourself up.

“the floors are heated so i like the cool air, even during winter” he comes up and sits beside you on the couch, observing you closely.

“well my bad mr.money man” it took everything in you to not physically roll your eyes. you weren’t actually annoyed and you knew shua wasn’t saying it to brag but it was frustrating how seemingly put together his life is.

aside from this rather “chaotic” ensemble, your life was actually pretty nice. yet you were always right behind him, a step behind like some loyal puppy.

and tonight, you had the urge to prove once and for all you weren’t just a puppy, you were an equal.

what you didn’t know was that he already saw you as one.

“come here” he says while patting his back, looking at you with eager yet cautious eyes.

you don’t verbally respond, just physically get up and do as instructed. straddling his lap.

his hands dig into your waist, holding you in place.

“explain yourself.”

“explain yourself.”

you both said it at the same time. it was eerie but earned a unanimous laugh.

“you first” you string out. one hand playing with the ends of his hair and the other just below his neck, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“look, y/n.. this isn’t just a one way street and we clearly remember things differently” he says blatantly. the grip he had on your waist loosening the more he spoke.

“just admit it.” you start, piercing into his soft brown eyes.

this would be much easier if he wasn’t so handsome.

“admit what?” he ask. hands trailing up and down your back, just how he used to back in uni.

“that i’ve had it worse, it hurt me harder. admit that you, hurt me way worse.” you demand, trying to ignore the ache in your throat.

joshua tilts his head back and let’s out a frustrated sigh.he looks back at you with something else in his eyes, lust.

he pulls you closer to him while pushing you down onto him. you look at him confused but he doesn’t speak yet, instead he starts pressing light, gentle kisses up your arm.

“did i complain when you started going out with that pathteic exuse of a man might i add, in uni just a less than a month after you confessed to me?” he ask peering up at you.

there was a slight pang in your heart. you remember it so clearly. after years of a seemingly unrequited love in high school, you confessed to him in uni.

hoping, praying, that it would help you get over joshua.

when he didn’t give an answer before mid terms, you tried moving on in another ways. getting with a guy that liked you way more than you liked him.

thinking back, it was definitely cruel but staying alone and seemingly rejected seemed worse.

he continues, both kissing your body and speaking. as if letting out years of pent up hurt in the air.

“did i ignore you after you rejected my confession at the end of the last semester? a week or so before my birthday? you ignored me sweetheart; even though i was the one rejected.”

this one struck a nerve.

a memory far too painful to be brought up. he goes up to kiss your collarbone but you back up, ultimately getting off him and sitting on the table in front of him.

“seriously joshua? are you really still acting confused as to why i rejected you then?” you ask fully bewildered. one eye brow slightly raised as you observe the man in front of you.

he leans forward and mocks your expression. daring you to state your reasoning after all these years.

you let out a dry laugh before crossing your arms.

alright then, your turn to straighten some things out tonight.

“joshua hong do not act oblivious to the fact that i have been pathetically in love with you since high school. i don’t know if it’s when you started sitting by me in class, or opening my drinks, or that time you shaded me from the sun while i was napping in p.e but i have been. plain and simple, okay?”

he starts to talk but you cut him off, determined to get your point through.

“foolish teen me thought i was special. until, i realized you probably sat next to me because your two friends sat in front of me, you open anyone’s drinks, and excetra excetra but either way, i made the dumb mistake of confessing my feelings for you in uni.”

you’re angry now, not at him but at how pathetic you must’ve seemed all these years.

he stays quiet, letting you take a breather before continuing.

“so yes. to get over you i started dating, having fun, doing anything to fix a mended heart of what i assumed was unrequited love because you gave me some ambiguous ass answer and what i needed in my life was not ambiguity, especially from you.”

you get up while taking, now pacing around his table trying to stop any tears that warned they would fall out if you looked at him any longer.

“then, a year into my relationship, on my relationship anniversary, you confess to me and crumbled down genuinely almost every ounce of self respect and happiness and i barley managed to scrape together to make my relationship work. i had to break up with him because how could it be fair to try and love someone else when a single confession, no, even just a mere look from you spiraled me back into you palm.”

joshua looks pained as he looks at you, getting up to come over to you but you stand firm on the other side of the table. moving sides any time he tries to approach you.

not afraid of him, never afraid of him.

afraid of the affect he has on you.

in a momentary lapse of weakness, a tear comes out and you immediately wipe it away.

“i love you. a lot more than you do me which is fine, i accepted that a long time ago but i will not be the girl who has these arguments with you once a year and then slips out in the morning after we’ve had sex. not again, i can’t.”

you didn’t even realize when but joshua was suddenly at your side, holding you gently and leasing you to sit back down on the couch next to him.

“y/n i’ve loved you a lot longer than you think, i swear it. and i’ve never once told you to leave in the mornings, trust me. i never sleep well because i wake up practically scorn when i see the spot you’re supposed to be in is empty. i get hurt a lot more easier than you think, it’s written all over my face when i miss you.”

his words practically ate you alive. if he had said all these years ago, even months, no even just last week you probably would’ve gone right back head over heels, full in.

you let out a coarse laugh. the ache in your throat from holding back your tears evident as ever and he realizes this, gently brushing back some hair behind your ears.

“you never told me to leave but never asked me to stay.” you murmur almost incoherent while staring down at your hands.

“mhm?” he hums, confused at the string of words you purposely rushed out.

“i said, you never told me to leave but you never asked me to stay.” you repeat, now looking at him directly. trying to read his eyes.

this, he couldn’t refute. and he knew it deep down as well.

after all those years of pining and watching from afar it still felt too real for him when you were suddenly in his bed for the first time.

you could’ve thought he was a teen who hadn’t had his first kiss yet. hands shaky, eyes nervous to meet yours, mind racing with thoughts at 100 miles per hour because that is how much of an affect you had on him.

he never admitted it though, failed the chance to and soon enough you mistakenly took his silence as a “hint” and slipped out every morning before the sun even rose.

it was his turn to tears to start falling but his hands felt too limp to even dry his eyes. so when you raise yours and wipe them away ever so gently, all he can do is cry into your hands.

“i’m sorry” he starts choking out.

“i really am so sorry. if i could do it all over again, if you just let me back in, i would. i would make it right. make a move faster, acknowledge my feelings earlier, not let you slip away so easily. i would tell you to stay. i want you, no, i need you to stay.” he rushes out, practically pleading at this point because God forbid he lets you out his life again.

but you both know it can’t happen. you’ve hurt each other far too much, have fallen dependent on each other for far too long.

it was unhealthy and you both knew knew it.

you firmly interlock your pink with his and stand up. he looks at your pinkies for a few more seconds before standing up after you.

you walk ahead, grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes. your pinkies still loosely intertwined.

joshua wants to say something, he tries to on multiple accounts but every time he opens his mouth, tears brim his eyes again.

you unlock the door and slightly go outside, your pinkies barely still holding onto each other.

you stare at each other longingly, as if you both knew in your hearts that it would be for the last time.

you smile fondly, even after just crying he was still so handsome.

“same time next year?” he jokes

you let out a genuine laugh and he swore in another life he’d do anything to keep hearing it.

“i’m joking. you are never, ever, allowed in my “nice ass house” again.” he dead pans, while not so obviously trying to hide a small smile.

you knew it had to end here, at his door step, pinkies intertwined. it would’ve never worked, no matter how much you guys both wanted it.

“i’ll miss you, so much.” you say sincerely.

he knows this. “miss” was a massive understatement in his books. he leans forward, placing a gentle kiss in your lips which you kissed back but for once you don’t chase after his lips once he pulls away.

he places another light kiss on your temple, as he does so he pulls away his pinky and this action is the one that almost breaks you all over again.

a beat passes, you stare at each other with simultaneously far too much love and hurt to ever truly be strangers.

“i’ll miss you too. just as much.” he echoes. meaning every word.

and with that, for the first time since meeting him, you pulled yourself together and turn your back to him first.

you walk away first.

and he watches it happen before closing his door, for good.

[yakultii]

today was so wild it went from being so extremely shitty and thinking I wasn’t getting out of bed to then extremely grateful because I turned my day around and was glad to be alive to then nearly being bashed on a bus lmao nothing went to plan today and I didn’t end up getting my banh mi because I ate a brekky burger right before I left (and also I went in the opposite direction to the place I was gonna eat from) but positives of today are that I went to chadddy (biggest shopping centre (aka mall for international moots) in not just aus but the southern hemisphere if you didn’t know except it’s also my local like 10mins away) and I bought a few random useful bits and bobs from miniso and daiso <33 and I also bought a few random drinks from a supermarket in the shopping centre cause I’d never seen said drinks before and one thing about me I love trying one off random drinks and then I came home and FaceTimed one of my brothers and marinated some tempeh for tomorrow cause apparently I’m in my cooking era which is extremely suss of me???? (but I’m sure it’ll die off in a week when uni is back) but it’ll be interesting to see how it tastes tomorrow in a stirfry - the marinade was basically honey soy & garlic (I don’t follow recipe bc my adhd brain could never so I just make it up myself but I also wanna experiment w this a bit over next few days and come up w the perfect marinade I reckon) also did a random face mask and hair mask and ate lotsa meals ofc.. I do however wish I drank a little more water but it’s only like 8pm there’s still time!!!! I can’t believe tomorrow is Monday (last week before uni classes are back), I think tomorrow’s goals are to cook the mince in my fridge I bought for burritos to freeze and to try the tempeh in a stir fry also and to drink more water and maybe go for a walk cos I didn’t really do that today other than in the shopping centre which honestly counts bc I always get lost tryna find my way out despite having been there 99449483722 times bc I am directionally challengedlol… anyways, as a whole I feel like this exact same day I would have said was shit or mid at most in the mindset I was in before I started my daily positive things tag cos inevitably w my health rn there is a shit element in every day but I’m slowly shifting my mind to realise that’s an element of the day (though it does infiltrate all of it in a way Ssshh) and there are many other elements and actually I’m not mad that I’m here for the good elements.. I’m also like allowing myself to partake in the good elements which has been a little unexpected!! still as isolated as ever and hate the cold but so far this winter is feeling more manageable than ever before!! (maybe bc I’m not trying to come off a certain med like I try to this time every year even tho I so desperately want to but like extreme insomnia is the result of that and ruins eberything so idk if wanna risk it rn ahhhhh) I know it’s not much for a lot of ppl but I feel like I’m doing so much(for me) than this time last year and the year before and many years before when I couldn’t even get myself out of bed let alone do more than one task (I really hope I can keep this going when uni is back) ok imma quit yappin now

[liesyousoldme]

sometimes i - well i don’t forget, per se, but for lack of better wording - forget that cancer is a Very Serious Topic and i’ll drop little tidbits and realize my mistake as i see the mostly shocked and sometimes horrified look on their faces and i really need to be better about it in my day to day life.

However! i will not be doing this - again, for lack of better word - censoring on my blog so if you follow me hopefully you looked at my pinned post in which i warn about this but if you didn’t here’s your warning that i talk openly and frequently about cancer because, well, when you have it it kind of takes over most aspects of your life and this is my safe space to talk about it however i want. i also want to make it clear that i am stage 4, which in my case means it is terminal, which means i will be on treatment until i die. at this point i am “stable”, as in the nodules in my lungs are being kept at bay by the chemo im on, and this is the best we can hope for at this moment. this can be a difficult concept for people to understand and accept but it is the reality i live with and if its too much it is certainly understandable if you need to unfollow me. i try my best to tag even the slightest mention for blacklisting purposes but i don’t blame anyone for needing to unfollow. keep yourself safe and curate your own tumblr experience!

i also want to express sooooo much love and gratitude to the people here who are always so supportive. i can’t overstate how much yall mean to me. and im always open to discussion and conversation about it - i don’t want anyone to have questions they feel like they can’t ask bc it feels too prying or they don’t want to burden me with it. as long as you’re caring there is no wrong way to be a friend to a person with cancer (or at least this person in particular). for instance my bestie likes to know the dirty details of my treatment bc she’s a pharmacist and understanding that aspect makes her feel better, and i have another that just feels like knowing everything that’s going on is helpful for her anxiety around the situation so she asks questions when i give her updates. i have another that wants updates on the major stuff but keeps it at that bc it’s easier for her to deal with it that way, and then i have other friends in between those extremes. even if you feel more comfortable asking on anon that’s fine. anyway, sorry to write a novel! just wanted to be clear to any newer followers i have! ❤️