#when I was suffering a lot a few weeks ago I payed close attention in church and read along with the pastor

[lavenderspence]

Bump Relief - S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try

Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife? 

A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy! 

masterlist | requests are closed!

Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were. 

He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasn’t focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years. 

But he’d been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.

At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as you’d been in your wedding dress. Or that’s what Spencer saw when he looked at you. 

But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldn’t help but notice too. How you hadn’t been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester. 

Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose. 

He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. He’d watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing he’d been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it. 

Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. He’d been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped. 

He’d wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack. 

He’d been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. You’d heard the heartbeat together, where he’d spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something he’d wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking he’d never get to experience it. 

But that’s as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more. 

He didn’t hear JJ approaching and wasn’t even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again. 

Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though. 

“Yes?” He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts. 

“Where’d you go Spence?” She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” He didn’t look or sound convincing, and watching JJ’s brow arch in question, he sighed, “Well, okay, not everything.” 

“What’s going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?” She asked a frantic worry in her voice.

“They’re good and healthy,” Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as she’d been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through. 

“She’s been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,” He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, “And I see her trying not to show it that much, but it’s clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?” He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow. 

He knew that wasn’t possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldn’t help but worry sometimes. 

“Well, there’s this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.” She started before she shared her little secret.

You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath. 

Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before you’d started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really. 

It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop. 

Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you weren’t even that surprised. You somehow knew that they’d take even more than his height - you hoped they’d inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.

You couldn’t wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly. 

You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked.  

Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes. 

Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didn’t hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasn’t often any cry for attention left you rattled.

You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door. 

“Sweetheart? Where are my girls?” He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. You’d decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad. 

You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, “We’re here, love.”

You didn’t attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over. 

Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.

“Hi.” He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.

“Hi.” You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work. 

“Hi, little love.” It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch. 

With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours. 

“Can you stand up for a second, love?” He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words. 

“Why?” It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there. 

His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too. 

“Just want to try something JJ suggested. Please? It’s going to feel good, I promise.” He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise. 

You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up. 

“If I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?” You bargained with him. You’ve been craving those since last night, but he’d been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe. 

He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down. 

“Okay, sour lemon candy it is.”

“What are we doing again?” 

“Okay, I’m going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,” He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like he’d told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, “Okay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?” Again, soft, in a whisper. 

“What work -” You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his father’s arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved,  thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband. 

“Good?” He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment. 

“So, so good. Thank you.” You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldn’t believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care. 

He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[hotteacocoa]

I think some Christians want the benefits and the blessings of being a Christian without having to sacrifice anything. Little do they know, it’s a blessing and an honor to suffer just as Jesus suffered for us.

Sometimes we forget that God uses our sufferings for good and to glorify Him. Sometimes we forget that God uses our sufferings to remind us to trust in Him and His plan for us. Sometimes we forget that God uses our sufferings to teach us how to be more like Jesus, and I don’t know about you, but it is an honor to learn to be more like the Son of God, the man who took on my sins for me, the man who died for me. It is a blessing and an honor to be more like Jesus, to love all people, to forgive even the most evil of sinners.

And through all the suffering, through all the hardships, through all the pain, we must remember that God is in control, He can use ALL things for good, He can use ALL things as lessons for us, and if we listen to Him and trust Him, He will shape us into better Christians and help us grow in our faith and in Him.

No matter what you’re going through, TRUST God. He can use EVERY situation for good.

Don’t let the suffering go to waste; don’t let God’s lesson go to waste. Learn from it. Trust Him.

Certain People™: Christianity will make you happy and healthy always! If this doesn't work for you, you are the problem and should consider praying harder ^-^

Literally all of Ecclesiastes:

[iluvmattsbeard]

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

a/n: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine.

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity!

[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter Five: Swampy Vacation - 7k Words

Fwhip embarks on a journey to the Codlands, courtesy of Grimlands Count. Safe to say he is less than pleased with the idea

A03 Link

Several weeks later, after dozens and dozens of tense days in the house, Fwhip finds himself being shipped off to the Codlands for two weeks. His father says it was a planned trip, so he could learn about their culture and what not. The ginger doesn't quite believe that.

Fwhip is pretty sure it’s because of the fight he and his sister had. And because Gem was scheduled to visit the day after he left too, which is pretty convenient timing if you ask him. He's almost grateful that their parents seem to be keeping them separate, because he's still feeling miserable about the whole thing. And he doesn't want that to lead into another fight again, then he really wouldn't know what to do with himself. 

He knows his fight with Gem isn’t over that one bad day. It’s god knows how many years worth of problems all exploding at once, because they suck at emotional stuff. And they're family is a big old mess too. One so full of issues that it makes him wanna bang his head into a wall half the damn time. 

He hasn’t seen Gem since she left for the Cliffs, right after their fight, which was over half a month ago at this point. Fwhip hasn’t messaged her on the new communicators they were gifted with either. Just another thing on the problem pile now, he supposed. Even if he didn't want it to be. The ginger isn’t really upset that his sister hasn’t spoken to him though, for he’s still pretty upset at her. She had called his one and only joy in this life dumb and stupid after all.

Fwhip is upset at himself too. The future Count knows he was being an asshole with most, if not all. of his comments, even if some were the truth. Yet at the same time he had no idea what to do, or how to talk to Gem about it. How do you even recover from a fight like that, really? They’d both called each other's greatest passions stupid .

He thinks about all of this, and arrives at the Codlands a lot grumpier than he expected to be. Part of the young Count wants to go back home, but he knows Gem is probably there. And the rest of him doesn’t want to confront that whole ordeal just yet, so maybe being in the dumb smelly swamp empire for a week or so would be bearable; if his other option was that much worse. Maybe .

Jimmy greets him as soon as he, and the guards his father had annoyingly sent, arrive. There is a fake smile plastered across his face, and when everyone turns their back he gives Fwhip the naistest glare the cod could probably muster. The half dragon returns it with a glare of his own, and feels his tail angrily thump against the ground. Well then, this is going to be a splendid trip, since the Cod Emperor’s greeting was oh-so friendly . 

Fwhip and his guards are giving a small tour, the teeangers keeping a good distance between them and the rest of the group. The tour was uncomfortable for both of them it seemed, as Jimmy awkwardly pointed out and described most of the buildings in the empire; even with the Grimlands guards giving him death glares the whole time. Fwhip tried to pay attention, since he would be living there for the next few days or so, but found it was rather hard too. The people they passed were giving the half dragon some nasty stares, stares he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tired. He drew his wings even closer to his body as they walked, shifting uncomfortably with nearly every step. The cod beside him waved to someone else, then raised an eyebrow at the half dragon’s suffering. The dickhead. 

“Not used to getting stared at like an animal, are you?” Jimmy mutters to him, having leaned in a bit to do so. They are much too close for the young Count’s liking right now, able to feel the blonde’s breath falling on his skin..

“No.” Fwhip mutters back, shifting just an inch in the other direction. Personal space and all, especially when he was being ogled like he was some creature . “I’m not.”

“Now you know what my life feels like.” Jimmy responded, waving to someone he knew as they continued to make their way through the small town. 

Fwhip avoided everyone's gazes still, and tried to fold his wings closer to his back. “Do you deal with this everyday?” He asked, not missing how the few cod he did catch a glimpse of looked at him. It was…..a look he wasn't used to, that's for certain. 

“Yeah.” The cod answered after a moment, his response strained. Again, Fwhip had to wonder once again what went on in that damn ocean. “For a lot of reasons, yeah.”

The ginger doesn't respond, just holds back a sigh, and accepts the fact that he will be subjected to some….rather nasty looks. But if complains to Jimmy the cod will complain about his treatment in the Grimlands, so he just keeps his mouth shut and suffers in silence. Sometimes doing that is better anyways.

Fwhip follows Jimmy around in mostly silence, only giving the occasional word here and there. Partly because a good bit of the codfolk's conversations are in codlish, a language he cannot even try to understand right now. But he learns a little from what he can gather, about the people's religion, the sea gods they worship and their cultural festivities related to it. 

He learns about recipes and their foods he will never remember fully, the style of dress in the empire, how they farm and use the land's natural resources for most things, everything . He also learns a lot of little details too, like how Jimmy will have to wear this head once they appoint him as the Codfather, and how he won’t be able to take it off in public ever again after that. Jimmy mumbled something part way through, about how his mother had instructed him to be so detailed in the tour, because normally he wouldn't care so much. And well, he's doing a damn good job at it, out of fear or otherwise. He makes it a little interesting, at least. 

Their little tour is eventually interrupted by some commotion in the docks, and the two young royals have to rush off once they hear the sounds of yelling. Thankfully no one got truly hurt, other than a few bruises maybe, but one if the castle merfolk and two codfolk had gotten into a pretty heated engagement. Apparently one of them had said some nasty comment about the other species, and it had escalated from there. 

Jimmy tells him it's the fourth incident like that today, and noon has only just passed. 

Not even twenty minutes later, they have to stop an argument between one of the Grimlands guards accompanying Fwhip, and another codfolk Jimmy had been talking to prior. It was his guard who had started it, and while the future Count didn't necessarily disagree with their comments, it would not be good for any of them if a fight broke out. So he decides they're done with guards, actually, and pulls the one with him off to the side. 

“Sir,” The guard protested, surely unhappy about losing their post. “I can't just leave you here alone in an enemy empire!”

“First off, we're not technically enemies right now.” Fwhip hisses, shoving them off to wherever the other two or so Grimlands guards had been ordered to stay. “And do you think these people are gonna attack an emperor's kid? They're not that dumb.” 

The guard mutters something under their breath in response, something about him sympathizing with the fish folk, and reluctantly walks away. They know when to walk away and follow orders, but not when to shut their mouth, it seems. The half dragon glares at the back of the retreating guard, and has to stop himself from stomping back like a child might. To say the comment got under his skin would be an understatement. 

Fwhip exchanges a glance with Jimmy when he walks back over, and sees the same troubling look reflected on the young cod’s face. It seems the two of them are on the same page then, about why they are here and what they are being taught. 

They are both starting to understand the need for the marriage. Fwhip still doesn't like it, he never will, but he can at least understand why it's happening. And that is exactly why they were brought here, to see and understand their duties to the people. The duties they both do not want, yet have no say in. The duties their parents do not want to do, so now it's both of their jobs.

There's a sinking pit of despair opening up in Fwhip's gut as he realizes it, and sees the same feeling reflected in Jimmy’s eyes as well. And the feeling is persistent, it won't go away. It's the feeling that will define every thought of the future after today. 

“Pix!” Jimmy exclaims, sounding all happy and relieved. He nearly runs over towards the other, his tail basically wagging with happiness behind him as he moves. Like a puppies tail would. 

“Pix?” Fwhip parrots, confused, yet he follows the young cod regardless. Don't get him wrong, he's very happy to see the new Pixandrian King, it's been a while since their last meeting, he's just unsure of why exactly he's here. 

“Hello you two!” The Copper King says, reaching out to ruffle both of the boy's hair when they're in range. Jimmy laughs, and lets him, already well used to such affection from the man in the few times they have spoken. Fwhip lets his hair be ruined as well, but not without many confused noises. 

“I'm happy to see you but, why are you here!?” He asks, barely caring how messy his curls are now. Even if his hair was rather annoying to keep tidy. Again, he's very excited to see his friend, he just doesn't know why he is seeing him!

“He visits sometimes!” Jimmy explains, cheery. And then he leaned in closer to Fwhip, to add on quietly. Like no one was supposed to hear this, in case something bad came of it. Like Jimmy was treading some ground he wasn't supposed to around the cod and all the royal advisors hanging about. “And mum isn't giving me any help making an empire, so Pix made it his job instead.”

“Oh, okay.” The ginger mumbled, somewhat surprised at the information. He knew the Ocean Queen wasn't....a great parent, but he hadn't been expecting her to just throw her son info leadership like that. Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed unphased by it, like this stuff was normal, and happily turned his head back towards their older friend. 

“The Queen actually requested my presence, and said she wanted me to be here today specifically.” Pix said, also seeming very nonchalant about the whole neglectful parent thing. Fwhip wondered how out of the loop he was, and if Lizzie was either involved or okay with all this. Or if she even knew it was happening. 

Jimmy looked puzzled, like his mother didn't request Pix's presence a lot. Like he just showed up of his own accord, out of the kindness of his own heart. “Why?”

“I don't know.” Pix shrugged, a small smile forming on his lips. “Maybe she thinks I'll keep you both in line?” Both of the boys giggled at that suggestion, and exchanged a knowing glance. No one in the world could stop them arguing, or being individual little troublemakers. You'd either have to separate them or lock them each in an all white room to achieve such a feat. 

Not even two minutes later, like they had summoned the Devil herself, the Ocean Queen arrives. She has guards of her own trailing her as she approaches them. Fwhip is surprised when he sees her, but his two companions are not. Jimmy seems to be trying to control his facial expression, probably from scowling or something; while Pixl plasters one of those fake, polite little smiles across his lips.

“Hello, your majesty.” Pix says, with a polite dip of his head. He sounds a lot less friendly than he did on him and the Queens last meeting a few months ago, that's for sure. The Copper King has undoubtedly learned some information recently, information about what really goes on behind closed doors in the Ocean Empire. It's nothing good, either. 

“Pixlriffs, good to see you.” The Queen says, stiff as ever. In the few times Fwhip has met her, he doesn't think she's ever been relaxed. Or casual. Or just generally not nerve wracking to be around. “How has everything been going?”

“It's been going well. Your son has quite the knack for this stuff, you know.” Pix hums, casting a fond glance over his shoulder at Jimmy. The young cod does not beam up at him like one would expect him to, his face being neutral and controlled instead. Like he would be punished if he didn't. That uneasy feeling Fwhio has about the Ocean Queen is growing every second, honestly. 

The Queen flicks her gaze towards her soon for a moment, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Jimmy’s expression doesn’t shift and inch.  “Does he now…”

“Yes, especially once you let him learn what he needs to.” Pix's tone appears casual on the surface, but there is an undertone of accusation. Of weeks old frustration and annoyance with his fellow royal. It looks like the Ocean Queen is doing everything in her power to be civil right now. 

The Queens hums, her tail flicking behind her, probably not as discreet as she would like it to be. “Well. I was just here for a report and a look around. I think I'll be going now, if that's okay with you.” She hasn't even gotten the report yet, and she already wants to leave. Fwhip has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the statement, and instead forces himself to look wholly disinterested in the whole conversation. Just as people would expect him to be, after all. 

“That's perfectly fine with me, ma'am. I'm sure you're very busy indeed.” Pix responds, placing a calm hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. The cod doesn't seem to notice it, everything he does is still controlled and precise as ever. But his posture does seem to relax, just the tiniest bit. 

“Yes, busy.” The Queen responds, almost distantly. Like her mind is very far elsewhere at the moment; perhaps it is back at her Castle, where she clearly would rather be instead. “I need a word with my…child very quickly, if I may.” She adds, her eyes still trained on her son. Almost like some kind of predator. 

“Of course!” Pix's smile seems a bit more forced after that, and he slowly removes his hand off Jimmy’s shoulder. For a brief second, the young cod looks a little terrified, but he doesn't say anything at all. He just lets his mother whisk him off to the side, a few feet away, while their guests wait behind them. 

Fwhip wants to ask something, anything about what's happening, but he doesn't. Pix is…oddly stiff as they watch the two Merfolks exchange, and whatever question Fwhip has dies in his mouth. He knows not to pry when his friend gets like this, because the answer he will get will only be stony silence. The King watches the ordeal through narrowed eyes, observing Jimmy and his mothers body language as they talk. The whole ordeal seems to be a rather tense one, and Fwhip can't help but eavesdrop. Just a little bit. Though he doesn't hear much, and can only catch the last few snippets of the conversation.

The Queen crouches down next to her son, so that they are eye level. Her hands are firmly placed on his shoulders, so he cannot move or pull away. It looks like her nails are digging in, and Fwhip really hopes that's not the case. Her lips move as she whispers something, voice rising slightly with every new word. Until Fwhip doesn't even have to try too hard to overhear it anymore. And if he can hear it, so can King Pix besides him. Whatever the consequences of that are. 

“You do what you've been told, K-,” The Queen hisses, and Fwhip chooses to stop listening right about that point in the discussion. He feels like one of those words isn't for him to hear, now or ever. Like Jimmy doesn't want him to hear it. “Remember that.” 

“Yes ma'am.” Jimmy says, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor. His mother glares at him for a moment more, as if assessing him. She huffs, then loosens her grip enough for Jimmy to wiggle free. He doesn't try, and doesn’t move until he is let go fully. Jimmy only moves when she starts to walk back towards them, and follows behind the Queen more obedient than he had the first time. Whatever bad feeling Fwhip had about the ruler was now confirmed, and was taking form in a rather strong dislike. He could see why everyone else detested the woman so much, and why his mother always complained about having to deal with her. (Which was funny, considering how similar they seemed to be. But that was a train of thought for another day.) 

The Queen and Pix have a small word, and then she is off again. Fwhip pays that exchange no mind. Instead, the half dragon focuses on Jimmy; who is now just standing next to him. He seems a little zoned out, and won't respond to the small nudges Fwhip gives him. He doesn't fully relax either, not until his mother is out of sight, even though her attention had never returned to him once it left the first time. 

“You okay, Jimmy?” Fwhip mumbled, seeing the breath he let out at her departure. He doesn't really know why he did it, but the half dragon slipped a hand into the cods. It's something he does when Gem gets a little rattled, and does it without thinking. Maybe that's why he did it, because Jimmy seemed all rattled from whatever his mom had called him. Maybe it was just a habit just a habit at that point, he didn't know.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine.” The blonde answered, not making any comment in the hand holding. But he did briefly lace their fingers together, and squeezed the other's hand just a little bit. “Can you two go get something? From all the storage areas? They need to fix up some parts of the church after last week's rain…” He mumbled, now talking to Pix as well. Fwhip ignored how the ruler was looking at their hands with a small smile on his face. 

“Sure thing.” The Pixandrian says, nudging the half dragon lightly. He lets go of Jimmy’s hand more reluctantly than he thought he would. “C'mon Fwhip.” The half dragon follows, sparing only half a glance over his shoulder as they walk away. He figures Jimmy just needs a moment to regroup himself after his mother’s visit, and nothing more. He’ll probably go and help them with the Church later, if it doesn’t get too late.

He and Pix head towards said church, and ask around about what materials are needed for the repairs. Once they have a small list of that, the two royals start off to the empire’s storage area, Fwhip prepared to rummage around a probably very disorganized mess. Since storage areas tended to be just that. But it’s there that the day went further downhill, as someone had questions that they needed answers to, and subsequently started to question his young friend about it. Answers the future Count would never be able to ever give.

“Fwhip.” Pix hums out his young friend’s name after a few minutes of quiet work, scanning over the list of materials they had been given for the third time. He doesn't look up from the paper as he speaks, scanning over it still. 

“Yeah?” The ginger asks, turning to look at the older man. The Pixandrian’s tone is….more suspicious than it normally is. Or ever is. Fwhip doesn't exactly know where this is going, but he does know that he doesn't like it. 

“Are you really…interested in Jimmy?” The brunette says, the words sounding oh so innocent when they spill from his lips. To Fwhip they are one of the worst things a man could say to him.

The young Count feels his hand stiffen over whatever he's holding at the question, and what also feels like all his blood turning to ice and dread pools in his stomach. Still he tries to stay calm and controlled when he speaks. Like the question never bothered him. “What do you mean?”

Pix hums again before he speaks, humming one of the tunes he likes to hum when working. “Well there's been rumors about you two being a couple. That's something you don't see everyday, two young royals pairing up…of their own accord.” The Pixandrian says, his tone only holding curiosity. And some mild suspicion buried deep down, to anyone whose head isn't clogged with fear. To Fwhip this is the scariest conversation he will ever, ever have with this man. “I knew you two didn't particularly get along before, so I've just been intrigued about what I've been hearing.”

“Well, you've been around us all day,” Fwhip shrugs, trying to act nonchalant the best he can. He doesn't think it's working very well. “What do you think?” 

“I think you're acting like they are true, in a way.” The Copper King says, and finally turns his head to look at the young half dragon. His gaze is not met like he perhaps expected to be.

“Why'd you even ask in the first place? It isn't really your business.” He huffs, having turned back to the materials he was sorting through a while ago. Fwhip decides to ignore the piercing blue eyes burning holes into his backside for the next few minutes. 

“I know it's not, trust me.” Pix reassures, finally finding some of the materials they need. Fwhip is so off-put by this whole conversation, he knew looking for whatever he previously had been would soon be pointless. He already wanted to leave the storage buildings as soon as possible anyways. “Jimmy just informed me about the deal between your two kingdoms, and I wondered if it came with any strings attached. He didn't seem to be happy about it when he told me.”

“And then I was here today?” Fwhip asked, hand tensely resting over some type of wooden plank that was probably on the list. Probably.

Pix hummed in quiet confirmation. “And then you were here today.”

Fwhip let out a small sigh, and decided he could tell a half truth. It wouldn't hurt to spill some of the basic stuff, not as long as he was vague about it.“My parents thought that us spending time together would be a good idea after the deal, since we used to argue a lot.”

“Did it turn into something more?” Pix asked, genuinely curious. Because he truly cared about them. Both of them. It's what made walking on eggshells around the subject so hard, lying to the people who wanted nothing more than to help. (Some of the very few people who could actually help them too, no less.) 

The ginger blushed at that, and averted his gaze to the side. Goddammit why was he blushing. He shouldn't be blushing over a stupid fishboy that he hated. “Maybe.”

He felt Pix’s warm smile on his back, and relaxed slightly under it. His smile always had that effect, even in the hard moments like this. “Well if it did, I'm happy for you two.”

“And how do you know it didn't?” Fwhip asked, even though he barely dared to do so. Even if the possible answer scared the life out of him. 

“I know when you're lying to me, young Fwhip. You're not very good at it.” Pix repsonded, which, yeah, he was right about all that. Fwhip wasn't the best liar in the world, and the Pixandrian had known him for far too long. Pix had seen more of his horrible lies than anyone else had, other than maybe his sister. “But I also know when to keep my mouth shut.”

“Could you….tell me about cod history sometime?” Fwhip mutters, a little embarrassed that he has to ask such a thing. Especially to Pix, who doesn’t even live anywhere near the ocean. He is just making the correct assumption about how well read the man is about everything.

“Why not ask Jimmy, or Lizzie?” Pix inquires, handing him some supplies to carry back. So it looks like he did more than he actually did, and wasn’t just the Grimlands dead weight. Probably. At last that’s why Fwhip thought he did so, if he just didn’t need help. Ya know, the far more likely reason out of those two.

“Jimmy doesn’t like talking about it, I think. Plus he seems lost on how everything works still. And Lizzie doesn’t get to see me much.” Fwhip explains with a shrug, taking the items he's handed. It's quite a heavy load of stuff, that's for sure, and he has to wonder how bad the damages to the church truly were. 

“Yes, I will. One day.” Pix agrees, starting out of the storage area and back towards the damaged building. Fwhip follows after him, stumbling a little under the weight of his supplies. 

“Thanks.” The half dragon mumbled, taking longer strides so he could keep up with his older friend. Once Pixl noticed this, however, he did slow his pace down. “Do you…do you know where Jimmy is?” He asked after a moment, feeling the redness start to flood his face. This wasn’t helping the earlier assumptions, that’s for sure.

“I think he went back to his shack for the day.” Pix hummed after a thoughtful moment, before giving his younger friend a teasing look. “Why? You miss him already?”

“No.” Fwhip muttered, quiet and embarrassed. He knew the Pixandrian was gonna tease him about his “ crush ” for forever now. Dangit. “And thanks.”

“You're welcome.” Pix said, looking like he wanted to ruffle the half dragon's hair, but couldn't for once. Fwhip appreciated the sentiment regardless, and was sure he'd get another head ruffle as soon as possible. “Now give those back to me, so you can go see your little boyfriend.”

“ B-Boyfriend!? He's not my-” Fwhip stammered out, his wings puffing out behind him on instinct. He was sure his face was as red as his hair by now, the flush having reached the tips of his ears. Pix did nothing but giggle at his own successful quip, and watch as the young royal struggled to regain his former composure. “..Are you sure you can carry all this? I don't have to go…”

Pix shakes his head, and reaches out to take the stuff from the young half dragon. “I'll be fine, Fwhip. I've carried a lot worse in my day.” He hums, and Fwhip slowly starts to hand his share of the materials over. “Besides, I think you have something to talk about.” And well, he is right about that. There is something he wants to tell Jimmy about….

“Right, um.” Fwhip says, all of the materials now out of his hands and into Pix’s. He was still worried about the other carrying all that weight, but knew the other would give him the exact same response again if he protested. “Thank you, again.”

“Anytime, now run along. Jimmy’s shack is just by the docks.” Pix said, managing to nudge him off in that direction. Fwhip huffed, threw yet another thank you over his shoulder as he started his return trip to the docks. It was a little tricky to find his way back, and he had to deal with quite a few nasty stares as he wandered around the swamp. But eventually, the half dragon does spot the shack eventually. And it is indeed a shack, too small to be called a house, and it’s not particularly pretty either, so of course it’s Jimmy’s. Once he sees it, he beelines for the door, and slips inside as soon as he isn’t fumbling with the lock. “Pix just asked about us.” Fwhip said, locking the door behind them as quickly as he can. The half dragon leaned against it too, for extra measure. He distantly hoped no one walked by and heard them, because that would be extra, extra bad. “He asked if I was actually into you.”

Jimmy’s head shot in his direction, eyes wide like a baby deer’s. He was standing halfway across the room when Fwhip entered, doing who knows what, and stopped it as soon as the words processed in his little fish brain. “Did you tell him?” The cod asked, clearly fighting back the fear in his voice. A small tinge of sympathy went through Fwhip for a moment, but then he pushed it right back down again.

“I wanted to, but I didn't.” He said, now moving off the door. The half dragon made sure it was locked before he did so, and moved closer to where Jimmy was standing. Both of their tails flicked across the ground in near sync, anxious and worried.

“Thank cod.” Jimmy mumbled, running a hand over his face in momentary relief. He hugged his arms to his chest again, and a frown settled onto his face. One that wouldn’t really leave for the rest of the day, rather unfortunately for the blonde.

Fwhip gave a small sigh of his own, and a  nonchalant shrug to accompany it as well. To make it seem like he cared a little less than he did or something. Even if the amount he cared was pretty small to begin with. “I figured your mom would have your head if I did. Even if I really, really trust him.”

“So someone’s onto us?” Jimmy asked, hugging his arms tighter to his chest. 

The half dragon let out a huff, and pretended not to notice when he did that. Like he did everytime, even when it was a pretty noticeable quirk of the cod’s. “He even asked if they arranged a marriage.”

“Oh no….” The blonde mutters, and Fwhip feels the same dread that is in Jimmy’s voice. He feels it very deep down in bones at the moment, and knows its the kinda dread that won’t ever go away.

The both of them are….decently terrified of what will happen if the news is broken suddenly, and not slowly overtime like they planned. Fwhip is scared of what the people will say, what all his salmonfolk friends would think. What the people working in his family's manor would say to him and to his father. And that fear is just over the current plan, let alone whatever would happen if the truth was revealed. Jimmy, as he'd admitted before one night, is deathly terrified of his mother's reaction; more so than any merfolk or codfolk's. Especially if the marriage doesn’t go as planned. He says the Ocean Queen does not like it when she doesn't get her way, and Fwhip feels like he has the emotional scars to prove it too. 

There is also a new sense of duty tying them both down after today. Duty to their kingdoms, their people, their parents. Duty to a lot of people. Duty to the world and the peace this arrangement would undoubtedly bring. Duty to the lives and the grief that would be spared by avoiding war. There was….a lot of duty riding on this, and it had taken them years to realize that fact. Now that they had, it had become something of its own heavy burden on both of the boys shoulders’.

“We have to sell it better.” Fwhip said after a moment, shuffling his weight from side to side. He didn’t know what to do, standing in this house talking to Jimmy. But he needed to do something, something with his hands or his body. Something to get all that nervous energy out before it exploded.

“I know,” Jimmy agrees, and looks like he’s about to start pacing. The ginger really hopes he won’t do that, because that would be stupid and pointless and annoying. Like almost every other thing the blonde does, actually. “But how do we do that?”

Fwhip hums, turning the idea over in his head for a bit. Even if he knows there’s only one logical solution to it, a solution he doesn’t want to admit. But he says it anyway, just to get it out there and out of his thoughts. So it won’t linger in the back of his mind like a little pest. “Acting like a couple, maybe…but.”

“We both don't want to.” Jimmy mumbled, sparing a glance at him. There was some emotion in his eyes, and Fwhip didn’t even dare to put a name to it. There were a lot of things he wasn’t daring to do, or didn’t like doing today it seemed. And this was just yet another one.

“Yeah.” The ginger mutters, glancing back at the blonde. He blinks in surprise, finding that they are…..very close. Close enough to touch. The cod says nothing, just blinks back at him all wide eyed.

For a moment, as he and Jimmy just stare at each other, Fwhip lets his mind wander. He wonders what it would be like to kiss him, just a little bit. He wonders what it would feel like, if it would feel like anything at all. His eyes flick downwards, and wonders if Jimmy’s lips are soft, or if they would be rough and horrible to feel against his own. He wonders if they’ll ever share that moment together.

“What are you staring at?” Jimmy says quietly after a minute. Fwhip jumps in surprise, feeling a blush start to spread across his cheeks. The half dragon moves his eyes away from the others lips, and focuses them on somewhere else in the room. He…..didn't know why he was thinking that. He shouldn't be thinking about kissing Jimmy. 

“Nothing.” He muttered, tail flicking slightly in embarrassment. “It's nothing.” If he wasn't mistaken, Jimmy's face was also starting to turn a bit red as well,  and his eyes had started to wander too. Meaning that they had…..maybe been thinking similar things. Just maybe. Maybe he wasn't totally weird for that one then. 

The cod doesn't give a verbal response, cheeks a decent shade of pink. Instead he gestures for Fwhip to sit down somewhere, and the half dragon does so. He practically curls himself into a little ball, taking up residency on one of the couch cushions. The left one by the arm, so he can further sink into the material and be miserable. Because today has been pretty shit, generally, and he just really wants to go home. But unfortunately, a certain someone can't understand social cues, and won't just let him suffer in peace. 

“So, why was your dad so eager to get you out of the house?” Jimmy says, plopping himself down next to Fwhip on the rather small couch. He curls his tail around his legs, making a pointed effort to keep all his limbs in his own personal space as best he can. The sentiment is somewhat appreciated. 

Fwhip looks up, shame already starting to form in the bottom of his gut. “You heard about that?” He mumbled, resisting the urge to hide his face like a child would. He’s not going to do that, especially not around the dumb codboy , because he’s not a child.

“Yep.” Jimmy says, leaning his head against the back of the couch, his gaze now foxed on the brown ceiling that seemed so far above the both of them. “Your dad was so eager he even surprised my mum when they talked. She said he was never that…. happy about getting rid of his kid for a few weeks.” 

“We had…..family issues. To put it lightly.” Fwhip gives a brief explanation, figuring the other can probably guess that much. Handing over information would probably shut him up as well, to be fair. “And now that's an excuse for dumb arrangement shit to go on.” 

“No, I think this visit was always going to happen.” Jimmy shakes his head, and gives the most sensible explanation Fwhip thinks has ever come out of his mouth. Especially about their…. situation . “Letting your child spend a few weeks in your enemy's land is something they wouldn't do, not if there wasn't a political thing behind it.” 

“It makes the peace treaty seem more believable when it gets announced, you know? It makes it seem like we've been genuinely repairing relations for the past few years.” The cod’s eyes stay distant, and trained on the wall as he speaks. Like he’s known the reality of all this the whole time, and it’s been choking him to death. “Even though it's all fake.” 

“When did you get so smart?” Fwhip snorts, considering all that. And yeah, he’s right. Not only does that make sense, it’s also something both their parents would do. The ginger knows that without a doubt, and it’s part of what makes the whole argument so horrible. That their parents don’t care enough to not use them as scapegoats, and don’t care enough to solve all their kingdoms' problems literally any other way that the cruelest and easiest one presented to them. 

“A lot of stolen books on diplomacy.” Jimmy mutters, and Fwhip files that away for later, so he can ask why the idiot has to steal books when he’s gonna be the leader of a whole damn country. Even if the answer is as simple as his mom being a horrible person, but still, the ginger likes knowing details about things. “But I'm here to talk about you, not our stupid arrangement.”

“....Me and Gem had a fight. A pretty bad one.” He admits with a sigh, and buries his head back into his arms. It’s easier to talk this way, if he doesn’t have to face the person he’s being forced to open up to. (Forced, like he couldn’t just cuss Jimmy out and be left alone afterwards…)

Jimmy lets out an understanding hum, their shoulders now somewhat touching. Fwhip pointedly decides to ignore that. “Is that why my last visit was canceled?”

“Yep.” Fwhip hums, popping the p. He really doesn't wanna talk about this. Especially not with Jimmy, in an unfamiliar empire no less. But he guesses he kinda has to for a little bit, well that’s what he’s been telling himself. Because Jimmy won’t shut up about it if he doesn’t, probably, and he’s annoying as fuck all the time.

“I get it. Me and Lizzie always argue.” The blonde said, sounding so sure of himself. Like this fight wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen to the ginger, like he could’ve known that without being told so. “Gem'll come around, eventually.”

“How do you know it was her fault?” Fwhip asks, tail curled tighter around himself. He isn’t even sure if it's Gem’s fault anymore; honestly it feels like it's more his fault than anything. He had been the one to start the argument, after all. But maybe it's none of their faults, maybe it's their parents, Fwhip doesn't know. All he knows is that he kinda wants to cry whenever he thinks about the fight. He knows that he feels guilty. He knows he loves Gem so fucking much and that fighting with her hurts, but being at home and dealing with their family also really, really hurts. 

Part of him thinks he just wants his childhood back. When they were both small and whole and blissfully unaware of all the problems yet to come. 

“I just have a feeling our sisters are very similar. That's all.” Jimmy says, now fully leaning on him. Fwhip is still ignoring it, and couldn’t decide if the touch was annoying or comforting at the moment. He didn’t want to find out either.

“You're an observant little fuck, aren't you?” He snorts, finally looking up again.

“So I've been told.” The cod holds back a small giggle, the happiest he’d sounded all day, before and after this moment. “We're going back to the Castle before nightfall, by the way, and we'll be back out here almost everyday.” He adds, moving away from the half dragon. Fwhip tries not to miss the contact of their shoulders too much.

“Is this how you live now? Because it kinda sucks man.” He huffs, uncurling himself slowly. He can’t imagine having to basically run an empire, on top of living at his horrible house and dealing with his horrible family. All while being barely sixteen as well….

Sometimes, it was very, very, very hard not to feel bad for Jimmy. To not feel a kind of companionship with their horrible situations all the time. It was very hard.

“I know. But I like the swamp more, so it's okay.” Jimmy mumbles quietly, and it sounds like he’s lying. He then nudges Fwhip a little harshly, and nearly topples him off the couch. It seems the feelings talk is complete over then, and it’s back to business as usual. “Now get up, we don't leave the swamp after sunset, and the afternoon’s already halfway over.”

“Fine. Bossy .” Fwhip huffed, and managed to get to his feet. He followed the other across the small shack and out of the door, into probably a horrible first night at the Prisma Palace, with many more to come after it. Jimmy said nothing as they walked and were brought back to his home, not a single word, and it was all he needed to say.

[diaryoftheunidropout]

THE BEGINNING

I have been fantasizing about making this post for days now. Perhaps, subconsciously, for years.

I will be dropping out of university. It's very likely that in a couple of hours I'll be sending the administration an email saying "it's over".

I still speak as if all of this was hypothetical because I am scared. Scared of making such a life-changing decision, and scared of making a mistake. I feel like an impostor for dropping out. It is quite simple: the second I decided to drop out, I felt immense relief. Except that, since, my brain has been trying to convince me that this "relief" only proves I am well enough to keep going to university. When really, this very relief comes from not going to university any longer. Weird, I know. Are you still following?

Maybe you deserve to know a little more about me, after all. Hi. I'm 18 and I moved to Paris, well, today. Literally today. I used to live in a town very close to Paris, to which I moved in September 2022, so, 6 months ago. Before that, I lived in the French countryside, where I grew up. I came to Paris because 1) it was one of my biggest dreams considering I love this city with my whole heart, and 2) for my studies at university. I'd chosen a degree I was sure I was going to love, something that would be a perfect balance between my two favorite school subjects: foreign languages, and economics. I knew with deep certainty I was finally going to be happy, after spending two out of my three high school years deep in depression and struggling almost every single day.

At first, I loved going to uni. I woke up happy every single day, the days were passing by so fast because of how interested I was in all of my classes. And after a month, in the span of 24 hours, it's like these first few weeks had been some kind of dream or hallucination, and I was left seeing a very grim and dark reality: I really wasn't happy. I could be a lot happier. This wasn't my path.

I dismissed the feeling at first, hoping it would pass. But it never did. Instead, it just got worse and worse. The semester ended and soon enough, I found out that I was top of my class. I spent my entire days on my phone, not paying any attention to the classes. And still, I got better grades than all of the hard-working students around me. I have no idea how I did it. And I know most would think that "it's such a shame" if putting so little effort into uni has still given me such good results.

But is all of this worth suffering and feeling miserable almost non-stop? Do I not deserve to listen to my own voice and put my health before my studies for the first time in my life? These past few weeks, I've been sinking deeper and deeper. I skipped a whole week of university, while in high school I hadn't skipped a single day (if you don't count the part of the story where my father dies, and that one time the government made me go to some kind of compulsory patriotic class, of course).

I know I'm progressively losing myself. I can't bear to remain in a situation where I harm myself in all kinds of ways and where I never give myself a chance to just be happy.

I want to believe I deserve some peace. Maybe even some happiness. But right now, all I feel is a terrible guilt for putting myself first. And perhaps some fear too.

Today, I want to save myself. I want to be my own savior.

"A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking, because its trust is not in the branch, but in its own wings."

[truly-quirkless]

"So you...weaponized something similar to karma?" Fin tilted their head slightly. They hit the necessary floor number, watching the doors close before them. They'd heard of some odd Quirks before- some that literally seemed like magic, so Harmony's explanation wasn't anywhere near impossible for them. Still- interesting. The most crazy Quirk they'd seen so far had been Val's 'Love Sight', and even that wasn't really karma. "I guess the two types probably feel like the comfort of a friend versus the rage of a poison, or something..." Their mumble was mostly to themself, fingertips touching as they considered it.

Karma as an ability...based on most shows and books, it would make sense that 'Light' Gaia Energy probably felt nice- while 'Dark'...probably felt painful. Like the Rainbow of Friendship versus the Dark Rainbow, from that one darkfic... The doors slid open, allowing the two to step out onto another floor. The layout was virtually identical- windows on one side, doors on the other.

"Yeah,...n' I don't feel like bein' fired. Though I'm sure Nezu'd understand." Fin chuckled faintly. The mouse was a genius- so he probably knew Fafo and Harmony were here, already. Their eyes flicked down to the bracelet- for a moment caught, staring at it as the lights danced and pulsed.

It was pretty.

"...pretty..." Fin murmured, before their attention returned to the teen. It had looked so light (well, obvious, but still). To know it was so destructive...well. Another facet, they supposed. "Ey, anythin' you break, just means I get more stuff t'fix." They grinned. They were sure that the students and faculty wouldn't exactly be happy about it,...but more broken stuff meant another week of pay for Fin. "We do actually have lesson plans revolving around destruction of property and navigating destroyed cities,...perhaps you'd wanna help set those up, sometime?"

Perhaps it wasn't best to encourage students to destroy things, though. Oh well. A rage room was a rage room- even if it was several 'city blocks'.

"So,... I do have a Quirk, but for the longest time, I thought I didn't. Quirkless people are considered a minority- and often face discrimination." Fin let out a small breath. "Assault, robberies, and the like are a lot easier against Quirkless individuals, and happen more since they're seen as 'lesser'. But I found out a few months ago that I do have a Quirk...and it evolved a few weeks ago." The two were coming up on the teacher's lounge that Fin knew Yagi frequented...they just hoped the blond wouldn't mind the surprise. "Initially, I was able to naturally suppress the expression of Quirks- but only in my own body. A few weeks ago, I gained the ability to force this 'suppression' out by several feet. Couldn't tell ya the edge of it, or how long it lasts...I jus' know anyone who gets close enough when it's active loses the ability to express their Quirk. It doesn't work on heteromorphic types, though."

They hated the discrimination...it was nice not to suffer it anymore,...but still.

“Gaia energy is… kinda like that. There’s two types. Light and Dark, and I can use both.” As they stepped into the elevator, Fafo had been more than happy to get himself settled on the teen’s shoulders under her quills. He was quite comfortable sprawled out and half hanging off one side but made a noise at the mention of a mouse.

That was all Harmony needed to see to give a nod.

“Yeh. That’s probably for the best. Fafo’s a really good mouser back home and I don’t want him hurtin’ ‘em.” Even if she trusted her make shift harness to keep him from launching, it was better to be safe than sorry.she continued to pet under his chin as they walked and went back to their original conversation.

“Ya can see some o’ Light Gaia’s energy in my bracelet.” The wrist that wasn’t keeping Fafo occupied was raised to show the softly pulsing orb. Glimmering green hues swirled around one another inside as the glow pulsed in time with the teen’s heartbeat. “I won’t use Dark Gaia’s energy if I can when I’m here cuz ‘s too destructive. I don’t wanna break nothin’ while I’m here.”

She was visiting a completely new Zone. One without Mobians by the sound of it, but since Fin had described what this hetermorphic quirk was, it had to be something similar. The last thing she was going to do was leave a bad impression by causing unnecessary damage to something with an ability of hers. Especially since this looked like someplace she’d want to come back to at some point.

“So what’s your… quirk?” Harmony hoped she had used the term correctly. “Everybody in this Zone’s got ‘em, right? Or are there normal people too?”

[quindolyn]

Weeks Without || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 7,427

A/N: Happy birthday @littlest-dark-age ! While this was not initially meant for you I loved it so much that I thought you might too and I poured a lot of effort into it, enough to show you how much I love you I hope. I think I like this piece! It felt good to write and I hope you all like it too.

Warnings: too long, that's probably the biggest one, angst, fluff, and smut. Slight dom/sub dynamics with dom Rem and Siri, sub Jamesie and maybe switch reader? Potentially just sub, I don't know I feel like any reader x James interaction I write, unless explicitly stated otherwise is at least a little bit dom reader because I project. Oral (female receiving), fingering, hand job, palming, little bit of humiliation. I tried not to include Daddy kink because I know not everyone's into it and I'm pretty sure if any of my stuff can have a daddy kink it does so I tried switching it up. Insecure reader

Masterlist

2k follower celebration

As you approached the end of your time at Hogwarts there was a certain fear that bubbled up inside of you. Like the rest of your peers you had worries about what waited for you outside of Hogwarts, where you were going to live, what you were going to do? How you were going to pay your bills and if the person, or in your case people, you were leaving with were going to stay by your side.

You were sure that everyone with a partner shared the same worries you did, that being if your relationship was going to survive outside of the sheltered walls inside which it formed. For you your worries were multiplied threefold. You didn’t just have one person you were worried would tire and leave you, you had three boys.

They were all undeniably beautiful, there were days you couldn’t fathom how people as beautiful as them had chosen someone like you.

Despite their constant praise, the way they gazed at you during class and in the halls, the hugs and kisses they gave you any chance they had you still weren’t convinced that you were enough for them.

You tried not to show it, tried not to show the boys you loved so dearly how your insecurities were eating away at you. You were eating less, sleeping less, and even though you spent all your time bent over a book in the library, eyes racing over the pages your studies were suffering too. The time you spent in the library wasn’t so much to actually study so much as it was to avoid your boys, even being around them had grown painful. Worried that every kiss they gave you might be getting you closer and closer to the last had you nauseous.

You knew it was ridiculous but you couldn’t help the feeling from gnawing away at you.

Your boys weren’t stupid, though James often acted as though he was, they noticed you pulling back from them. On the rare occasions they were able to get you with them for more than the duration of dinner it was like you were stopping yourself from enjoying being around them.

You’d catch yourself smiling too wide and drawback. To them it was like clouds blocking out the sun, though they’d swear they would’ve preferred the absence of the sun over yours.

There were only so many ways you could avoid them and when it came time for sleep there was no escaping the giant canopy bed in James’ headboy dorm that could easily fit all four of you. It was probably the easiest way for you to be around them, because after a long day of classes and extraneous studying you were out the minute your head hit the pillow. There was no time for them to prod you about your day, ask you where you’d been during your shared free period.

You speedily made your way through your evening routine before the rest of them got to the room and were climbing under the covers as they finally made their entrance.

Tonight you hadn’t been as lucky, as you barreled into the cozy dormitory, decorated in a frankly nauseating amount of scarlet and gold. You entered to find your three boyfriends were already waiting for you sprawled throughout the room.

James sat on the sofa to the left of the king bed, long legs sprawled out in front of him, they were so long that his feet stuck off the end. With his hands clasped behind his head acting as a pillow, he would’ve been the picture of leisure had it not been for the crease between his brows while he conversed with the two other boys in the room.

Sirius sat curled up in Remus’ lap, nestled together on the loveseat; there didn’t appear to be an inch of space between the two of them. Usually when they were found like this it was as though neither of them had a care in the world, too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else that went on around them. This time was different, Sirius held one of Remus’ hands in his, fiddling with it while he gazed off into the air, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

It wasn’t tension clouding the room so much as it was worry. Worry about you, worry about your relationship, worry about what they might’ve said or done to hurt you.

As you stepped into the room all of their eyes shot to your figure, ultimately finding your face as they tried to tell what sorts of secrets you were hiding in that pretty head of yours.

“Hi poppet,” Remus spoke promptly, knowing that allowing the silence to stretch on would only serve to worsen the situation.

“You guys are here early.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the furrow between James’ brows deepen at your response, you weren’t usually one to sidestep a greeting like that. Though in all fairness you hadn’t been acting much like your usual self lately.

“We’ve missed you puppy, feels like we never see you anymore,” It was Sirius who spoke, hands still fidgeting with Remus’ long fingers, finding the Marauders ring that he wore on his ring finger and sliding it up and down the appendage.

You answered with a noncommittal hum as you toed off your shoes, abandoning them by the door to the dorm before moving to the bed where you shrugged off the bag that had been weighing down on your shoulder all day.

Remus quietly eased Sirius off of his lap, helping him into James' open arms awaiting his arrival. Once the raven haired male was settled into the larger boy’s grasp, strong, muscled arms holding him close to his equally toned chest Remus made his way toward you where you sat, silently working on the buttons of your blouse.

“You want help with those, bunny?” Came the steady baritone of Remus’ voice as he stood a few feet before you, head cocked to the side while his hands were buried deep inside of his pockets.

“I’m fine Rem, I’ve got it,” The use of the nickname normally would’ve worked to lighten the worries that were swirling around in the boy’s head. This was counteracted by the despondency of your voice pulling each syllable downwards into mumbled murmur.

“I hate to say it but Siri’s right (Y/N), we don’t see you anymore and we’ve tried to ignore this weird behavior, thinking that it would pass but it hasn’t,” The lycan spoke as he made his way to the bed, sitting down on the mattress next to you but sure to leave a decent amount of space between the two of you, not wanting to spook you more than you had seemed to be.

You ignored his words, instead focusing your attention on unzipping your skirt, loosening the waistband allowed you to take a deep breath you’d been yearning for all day.

“Bunny, we just want to know what’s wrong, talk to us please.”

Lifting your eyes, lids heavy from the stress of the day, at Remus’ desperate plea you found the looming figures of your other two boys hovering over his shoulder. Fingers intertwined as both stormy grey irises and hazel ones gazed at you.

“Nothing’s the matter Remus, I’m just a little stressed out is all. It's nothing any of you have done.”

Technically that was true, it was nothing your boys had done directly that had caused you to pull back from them but still, a lie by omission.

“Bullshit.”

Each of your heads whipped to find the voice who had spoken, your eyes landing on Sirius’ form you found his sullen figure glowering, tucked into James’ side.

“Sirius come on,” Remus murmured, urging the boy to keep his mouth shut.

“No its such fucking bullshit, she’s been acting like this for weeks and I’m sick and fucking tired of her acting like a toddler.” The boy swivelled, redirecting his attention back towards you, “Stop it (Y/N)! Stop lying to us, stop pulling away, just fucking talk to us for fuck’s sake because I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

With each word the boy’s voice raised an octave and you watched James’ hold on Sirius’ shoulder tighten as though he could contain the flow of words that tumbled from his mouth.

It was all too much, the insecure thoughts that bounced around your head, the aches that had settled in your limbs from pushing yourself too hard on too little sleep, the distinct throbbing that resided behind your temples nearly every day by this time.

Then add on Sirius’ harsh words it was all too much.

“I can’t do this,” You mumbled, haphazardly redoing the buttons of the blouse that had been hanging off your shoulders before pulling your bag, abandoned just minutes ago, back onto your shoulder.

“(Y/N) where are you going?” The frustration in Remus’ voice was evident, he’d been so understanding and gentle the past few weeks but even he had his limits and he was not about to watch you walk away from them.

“My dorm.”

“Since when do you sleep in your dorm?” It was the first time you’d heard James’ voice since you entered the lavish dorm room. The hurt laced in each word was unmistakable, guilt at being the one to hurt the boy you loved so much served to twist the knife that was already planted firmly between your ribs.

For the first time in weeks you finally voiced the overwhelming thought that had been plaguing you, the thought that had caused you to pull away from them in the first place, “You’re better off without me.”

It seemed as though everything in the castle had stopped to listen on your conversation, you were almost certain you could make out the little figure of a portrait peeking its head into the gargantuan frame that hung on the furthest wall of the dormitory should Dumbledore need to call James out in the middle of the night to perform some headboy duty.

The room was so quiet as the boys, your boys, soaked in your words that you swore you could hear Slughorn all the way down in the dungeons, munching on the lavish pineapple that had been dropped off at his office a few hours earlier and that he had saved until now to indulge himself in.

“What do you mean poppet?” The crease between Remus’ brows matched the confusion so evident in his voice.

“I mean…” You trailed off as you felt tears well in your eyes, weighing down on your bottom lashes as they threatened to spill over. You couldn’t find it within yourself to meet any of their gazes, instead keeping your head downturned, eyes trained on your sock clad feet and you shifted your weight from foot to foot.

Before you could force yourself to look up you felt a strong, steady hand slip under your mandible, from the rough calloused nature of said hand you knew without a doubt that it belonged to James.

He slowly turned your visage upwards to meet his, heart crumbling as he took in your waterlogged optics, red and puffy, sunken in my large dark shadows that appeared to be frighteningly close to bruises.

“Why are you thinking that you’re not good enough for us angel?” He spoke, his voice cracking as he took in your heart wrenching appearance.

“Jamie,” You sobbed before throwing yourself into his chest, the barriers you’d erected between you and the rest of them crumbling as you saw the helpless look in James’ beautiful hazel eyes.

The fears and doubts that had haunted you for weeks were still there but you couldn’t find it within yourself anymore to listen to them when they told you to keep your space, to hide from the people you loved the most.

You clung to James’ broad shoulders, standing on your tiptoes so that you could throw your arms around his neck. You felt the weight of your satchel once again slip from your shoulder accompanied by a soft thud against the hardwood floor as one of James’ arms wrapped around your waist, the other slipping under your bum, landing on your upper thighs to support your weight as he carried you over to the canopied bed.

James kept you safely in his lap, sitting down with Sirius and Remus on either side of the two of you.

Even if any of them wanted to pry you off of James there was no way you were leaving the warm solace of his hold, the solidity of his thighs underneath you, the strong planes of his back sprawled out underneath your palms.

There was a comfort in all of it that you hadn’t realized you missed so much, you felt a pang in your chest as you contemplated the boy’s reaction to your insecurities. Would they confirm them, and these past weeks, which could’ve been spent in the exact position you found yourself in now, soaking up the comfort they brought you, had been wasted?

Though you were perfectly content to sit there, snuggled into James’ chest the boys wanted answers, and though they tried their best this was the most like yourself you’d been in forever and they were desperate for answers to their questions before you slipped away from them again.

“I’m sorry I yelled Princess I’ve just been so worried about you,” Sirius murmured, his hand gently sliding up your thigh to rest under the hem of the plaid fabric.

All you could offer the boy was a nod as you turned your visage to meet his, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, “It’s okay Siri-”

“No it's not,” He refuted empathically, his hand moving from your thigh to cup your cheek, dragging his thumb across your cheek bone in soothing circles, “If anyone else spoke to you like that I’d hex them into oblivion. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down, tilting your face ever so slightly upwards to meet your lips. As usual his were unnaturally and enviously red, tasting of smoke and the strawberry candy he stole from the pockets of James’ robes.

His lips brushed gently against yours, it was the first kiss the two of you had shared in weeks that wasn’t a quick peck as you passed in the halls or as you rushed away from them after breakfast. Understandably, he was in no mood to rush it.

You melted into his touch as his grip on your cheek tightened, keeping you from pulling away as he deepened the kiss, kissing with a sort of passion foregin to the both of you. Different from what you were used to, lust filled kisses as he ground your hips into his. This was a sort of apology from the both of you, sorry to have shied away from this for so long and he sorry for blowing up at you.

He kept his lips melded to yours for as long as possible before finally pulling away to suck in a deep breath, replenishing his depleted lungs.

“Gotta tell us what’s going on in that pretty head of yours baby,” Came Remus’s voice from the other side of Jamesie’s broad shoulders, lulling your head off of the one it rested on to meet his sympathetic eyes.

You felt a familiar panic bubble up once again in your throat at the thought of voicing all your insecurities, scenario after scenario running through your head going through all the different ways the boys could react to your theories.

Suddenly you felt like an idiot and felt your cheeks burn as blood rushed to them, resisting the urge to bury your face back in James’ shoulder you swallowed, “W-What if,” You stopped for a moment, sniffing and going to wipe your nose on the back of your hand you were stopped when Remus’ large hand wrapped around your wrist.

Slender fingers slipped a silky hanky into your palm for you to wipe your nose on and you smiled as you glimpsed the initials “RJL” stitched sloppily into it. This was no doubt done by James when he was laid up with a Quidditch injury and had taken up stitching, amongst other things.

“Thanks Rem,” You murmured as you swiped the soft cloth underneath your nose before slipping it back into his hand, you felt your cheeks burn, embarrassed to be handing him back the used, and admittedly grosser material, but ever the gentleman he paid it no mind.

“Now what was it that you were saying (Y/N)?”

You braced yourself, clenching the covers into your fists as you forced the words that had been swirling around in your head out, coming to terms with that there was no more delaying the inevitable.

“Are we gonna stay together once we graduate?”

It was conflicting having finally spoken those words that had tormented you for countless days, hours upon hours of pain and anxiety causing you unspeakable turmoil. It felt as though it was all lifted from your shoulders, you’d spoken the words, put them out there and they were no longer your pain to bear alone.

At the same time, they didn’t just exist in your head anymore. They were real and the people who mattered most had just heard them, their impending response only served to make you grip the sheets even tighter.

“Where’s this coming from angel?” James asked, confusion tightening up his voice.

“I don’t know,” You whimpered, “I’ve just been thinking and you all are so fucking beautiful and perfect, how am I supposed to keep up with you when we leave here. I already don’t deserve any of you. It's already bad enough in here with all the girls and guys fawning over all of you but how am I supposed to fair when you have the entire world at your fingertips?”

As they soaked in the meaning behind your words James’ arms tightened around you to the point of bordering on discomfort but it was so reassuring to be held that close, to know that that was the reaction your words had on them that you couldn’t find it within yourself to complain, only to hold him even tighter.

“Darling,” Sirius’ sympathetic tone was enough to shatter your already fragile facade and before you knew it there were fat teardrops sliding along down your soft cheeks.

You could feel your tears dampening the material of James’ old t-shirt but couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I-I don’t wanna lose you guys,” You sobbed, letting all the pent up emotion from the past weeks flow out, coming off of you in waves as the knot that had been residing in your chest slowly began to unravel. Each tender caress of your back and stroke of your hair assisted in its efforts until all that was left was your heart. Which, considering that it had been tangled up in barbed wire, thorns piercing your heart with every beat, was in surprisingly good condition, still intact and pumping along.

“You’re not gonna lose us (Y/N/N), ever,” James promised into your ear, his chapped lips brushing across the shell of your ear.

“You can’t promise that,” You protested, words muffled as you spoke into his shoulder, “There might be someone else who you guys love more than me, who’s prettier and smarter and can keep up with you all. M not good enough for any of you and what if one day you realize that?”

“Don’t talk like that princess,” Sirius’ grip was steely on your forearm as he used it to get your attention, “I’ve spent my entire life being told I wasn’t good enough and the truth is that we aren’t good enough for you. I know what it feels like to feel like the people in your life deserve better than you but there is no doing better than you, no one else on this earth holds a candle to you my beautiful girl.”

As you took in each of Sirius’ words letting them heal the puncture wounds on your heart from being wrapped in thorny vines Remus spoke, “We love you more than anything puppy, the day you walked into our lives was the best day of my life and I can’t think of a world where any of us live without you. Especially outside of Hogwarts, things are gonna be just as scary for us as they are for you poppet and I know I don’t wanna do it without you.”

It felt good to hear that the worries you’d been obsessing over were really all in your head, that they really did love you as much as you loved them, but there was still one boy you needed to hear the words from before you could completely relax.

“I’m going to marry one day (Y/N/N), I’m going to marry all of you and we’re going to be Misters and Missus Potter. Remmy’s right, I don’t wanna ever wake up and not have you right there next to me. Mum and Dad say I have to wait till we’re settled and we have jobs and a place to live before I can propose but it's gonna happen bunny, I just hope you don’t realize we’re a pile of daft idiots before then.”

As a lopsided goofy smile quirked his lips upward you felt a similar force mimicking the movement on your own, “Even if you all are daft idiots, m’never gonna find anyone like you guys. My pretty boys.”

“You hear that mates? We’re her pretty boys, if I didn’t know better I’d say (L/N) has a little crush on all of us.”

“Oh sod off Siri,” You let out a watery giggle, gently nudging the boy’s arm as you looked up at him through water logged lashes.

“Is that true puppy? You like us?” Even though he was usually the most mature of your boys Remus’ mischievous side never failed to shine when he called on it.

“No,” You refuted, “I’m actually rather fond of Severus now that you mention it.”

You’d pulled away from Jamesie’s chest to be able to look at each of them but with your words you were harshly tugged back into him.

“Not funny,” The sullen boy murmured into your ear, “Ours, not Snivellus’.”

“Shhh s’okay bubba I know you love me,” You soothed him, tangling your fingers in his hair like you knew he liked.

“I’m so sorry bunny we ever made you feel like Snape loved you more, I never want you to feel like we don’t love you.” He squeezed you, “How can we make it up to you?”

“I just got in my own head is all,” You explained, “I was telling the truth earlier when I said that it was nothing any of you had done, just shouldn’t spend all that time alone with my thoughts.”

Sirius’ elegant hand started rubbing up and down your back as you all sat there, soaking in each other’s presence after so many weeks of turmoil. Each time his hand slipped lower and lower down your back till he was groping your ass with the palm of his hand.

“Do you believe us poppet?” Remus asked, taking note of Sirius’ hand on your bum, “You believe that we’ll love you till the day we die?”

You nodded your head, face still buried into James’ neck, “I know you’re telling the truth Remmy, it's probably just going to take a little while for my brain to start really believing it, I spent so long worrying about it that mt stupid brain is’nt just gonna start listening to me.”

Remus nodded as he brushed a piece of hair from your face, it was the answer he’d been expecting.

“How about we show you how much we love you puppy?” Sirius asked from your other side, hand sliding from your ass to your thigh before slipping underneath the hem of your skirt.

“What do you mean Siri?” You cocked your head to the side in a rather obvious display of your confusion.

Wordlessly he stood up and slipped you from James’ lap moving to the foot of the bed where he laid you out on your back. Your blouse hung open off your shoulders revealing your lace clad breasts to the man as his eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve and line of your body.

Starting on the cushiony pillows of your lips, red and raw from gnawing away at them all the way down to the soft lines of your thighs he took his time appreciating every millimeter of you before dragging his eyes back up to the hem of your skirt.

One graceful hand slid to the waistband, already loosened he bent down to press a kiss where the material had rubbed your skin raw over the course of the day.

As your panty clad center was revealed to him Sirius swiftly dropped to his knees, his eyes quickly darting to Remus over your left shoulder for permission for what he was about to. It was granted to him with a soft nod.

“What are you doing Siri?” You pondered as he slid your legs apart from each other, sitting up on his knees as he began pressing sloppy kisses onto the insides of your thighs.

Instead of getting an answer Remus spoke, his words directed to the boy between your legs as though his words would have no consequence on you, “You can mark her Sirius, let everyone know that she’s our pretty girl.”

His words sent a zap of excitement up your back as you remembered how good it felt to be their pretty girl. Something you hadn’t felt like in weeks.

You bucked your hips as Sirius’ lips ghosted over your pussy still hidden to him behind the lacy material that matched your bra, “I’m showing you how much I love you puppy,'' He responded to your earlier posed question, “Now come on, lift your hips f’me,'' He murmured as he slipped the panties along with your school shirt from your hips revealing your pussy to his hungry gaze. Sirius carefully pulled the garments from your legs before dropping them to the floor next to where he knelt.

Inching closer and closer to your cunt as he worked his way up your thighs leaving a trail of kisses in his wake he made sure to sink his teeth into the flesh at certain points, just hard enough that if he sucked he was sure to leave behind mouse shaped bruises. The thought of being marked by him caused a ripple of arousal to go straight to your core.

Once he was satisfied with the marks he’d left on your thighs the raven haired boy moved quickly, nosing your folds apart to breathe in your scent, even with the minimal stimulation you’d had you were already soaking, though Sirius often seemed to do that to you.

“Fuck,” You swore as his nose bumped your clit and you reached out to grab onto the bedding but found James’ hand instead, wrapping your hand around his middle and index finger as you scrunched your eyes closed.

“Pretty baby,” James cooed as he leaned down to smear a kiss across your brow, furrowed from pleasure, “Siri making you feel good?”

You nodded fervently as the aforementioned boy licked a broad stripe from your quivering, sopping entrance to your clit, lifting up the hood to suck gently as James often sucked on your tits. You smiled thinking that you might fall asleep that way tonight because you knew nothing made the boy quite as happy as both falling asleep and waking up with your tit in his mouth.

“Use your words puppy,” Remus’ voice sounded from your otherside and you whipped your head to face him wondering when he’d moved over there, “Wanna hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“Yes Remmy, feels so so good,” Your words hitched as Sirius slipped a finger inside of you, continuing to suck on your clit as he did so.

As you spoke your eyes wandered downwards and you were met with a familiar bulge having formed in Remus’ trousers. The werewolf’s gaze followed yours and smiled as his eyes landed on his crotch.

Your head quickly pivoted to the otherside finding a matching bulge in James’ trousers. A pang of guilt hit your heart as you hadn’t even thought about either of their pleasure, being too overwhelmed by your own as Sirius had thrown your legs over his shoulders allowing him to pull himself closer to your dripping, aching cunt.

Somehow your hand had found its way to Remus’ cock as you mindlessly palmed at his bulge as though that and that alone would work to help it escape from its zippered cage and into your awaiting hand.

“Can I have your cock Rem, please?” You begged looking up at him with wide eyes, fingers fumbling as they finally stumbled across the zipper.

“Course you can bunny,such a good girl asking me for m’cock so nicely, let me get it out for you.”

Remus expertly lifted his hips as he unzipped his zipper, sliding his trousers and boxers down to his mid thigh allowing his cock to spring free.

As his cock was revealed to you Sirius added a second finger into your pussy, curling it at just the right spot to hit the sensitive spot inside of you each and every time he thrusted his fingers. As he pushed the second finger inside of you you felt the distinct chill of metal, you gasped at the unique, though certainly not unwelcome sensation.

Glancing downwards you saw that the hand belonging to the arm that was pinning your hips to the mattress did not bear the signature Marauders ring they all wore proudly on their ring finger. Having his marauders ring thrusted in and out of you made you clench around his long, slender fingers, the extra stretch provided by the jewelry was impossibly hot.

The combination of seeing Remus’ cock, standing proud and tall as his tip, bright red, leaked pre cum onto his shaft and the extra stretch of not only another finger inside of you, but a ring, had you squeezing your legs around Sirius’ head.

Flicking your gaze down towards him you were met with Sirius’ eyes already on you and he circled your clit with his tongue. Much to your chagrin he pulled his head away from your cunt, smoothing his palm up your stomach as he smiled at you with the most sincere look in his eyes, “You’re beautiful like this puppy, so perfect all laid out for us, making a mess all over my face.”

Looking at the bottom of his face you saw the mess he was talking about, his mouth and chin were glistening with your slick. Before you could reply Sirius was diving back into your pussy, scooping his arms under your thighs to lift your hips so that he had even more through access to your pretty cunt.

Any breath you would’ve used to respond was pulled from you as Sirius’ tongue began working magic on your cunt, tracing it painfully slowly before abruptly speeding up.

Remembering the gift that had been bestowed upon you you grappled for Remus’ cock, quickly wrapping your hand around it and beginning to pump up and down, loving nothing more than the way he throbbed beneath your touch.

“That’s a good girl, so good at playing with m’cock, there’s a good girl,”

“Like this?” Your wide eyes stared up at Remus as you twisted your wrist pulling a strangled gasp from him.

“Yes baby, just like that.”

You were mesmerized by his cock as you watched the head disappear before reappearing from your fist as you worked up and down his shaft, your hand working along the natural curve of his prick.

A whiny moan from your other side broke your concentration as you turned your head to investigate it, never halting your movements up and down Remus’ member.

Your eyes fell upon James’ whimpering form, shifting uncomfortably as his eyes flickered back and forth between your hand on Remus’ cock, Sirius’ head buried between your legs and your face, pleasure plastered over your every feature. God you looked beautiful when you were getting eaten out.

Finally you settled on the raging boner visible through James’ trousers, it looked almost painful the way it was straining against the restrictive fabric.

“Aww Jamesie m’sorry, been neglecting your cock,” You mewled, the hand not on Remus’ cock moving to palm James through his trousers.

“That’s okay bunny, m’good just watching you, fuck you’re gorgeous.”

You threw your head back as Sirius pinched at your clit, his tongue and fingers having swapped places as he circled your tight entrance which was clenching around nothing, but who could blame you?

You were in ecstasy.

There was a familiar fire burning in the pit of your belly, one that had begun simmering the second Sirius had looked you up and down once having laid you down on the bed.

A small whimper escaped you as you felt James’ strong calloused hand grope your clothed breast over the mesh and wire cage you kept them concealed in because fuck did that feel good.

You turned your visage to view Remus, he was painfully hard now and you made sure to keep groping James on the other side of you as you quickened your speed on Remus’ cock.

“Merlin puppy that feels so good, our good puppy. I love you so much my love, so much,” His praise came as he tangled his hands in your hair, using his hold on your to direct your face up to view his. He looked angelic, beads of sweat forming on his hairline with clouded over hazel eyes and the most beautiful lips you’d ever seen that released haggard groans and breaths.

A whine tumbled from your lips at the praise, Remus was always the gentler out of your doms, James barely counting as most of the time he was on his knees with you ready to obey his next command, but his praise seemed to be affecting you more than you were used to. Not that you were complaining though, on the contrary, you were living for it as it spurred you closer and closer to orgasm.

You squeezed Remus’ cock as Sirius nipped at your clit, the sensation walking the delicate line between pleasure and pain but jarring nonetheless. You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t send a rush of arousal to the fire now beginning to roar in your belly.

The feeling of James and Remus’ cocks in your hands was oddly erotic and as they worked to ground you as Sirius pulled you further and further into bliss the holdon them, feeling every vein and ridge and twitch turned you on more and more and had you bucking into Sirius’ mouth.

“I’m gonna cum!” You screamed as Sirius sped up his ministrations on your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips as he mercilessly pistoned his fingers in and out of you.

“M gonna cum too,” James admitted, sucking in a tight breath as he wriggled his hips, resisting the urge to buck up as you lackadaisically palmed at his still clothed crotch, never having the time to properly undress.

The thought of cumming with James pushed you right to the edge to the point where you could barely form words, but knowing you’d need permission before you were allowed to cum you sought out the one person who could grant you such. “Can I cum?” You pleaded, turning your head to face Remus, “Please Rem let me cum please!”

“You gonna cum too Jamesie?” The lycan’s eyes were trained on James’ face, eyes wide as he watched your hand slip up and down Remus’ curved length.

Upon receiving his answer, a yes delivered in rushed nods, Remus turned back to you, “Yes baby, go ahead and cum for us, make a mess all over Siri’s face. Gonna look so pretty when you cum undone, such a pretty girl.”

That final praise tipped you over the edge, sending you into a bliss filled oblivion as warmth seeped to every nook and cranny in your body. You felt your legs tense and spasm as you squeezed your thighs around Sirius’ head, bucking into his face to get as much stimulation as possible because there was no way for you to get enough.

You distantly registered a string of curses leaving your lips as euphoria washed through your body, taking with it any little doubts and worries that hadn’t parted with the boy’s earlier kind words.

As your orgasm passed and you blinked your eyes open you found a lightness in your chest you hadn’t felt in months. All the wounds from being wrapped up in thorns so long seemed to have healed on your heart, to see you tested it out, letting a singular thought about the boys drift through your consciousness. You were immediately reminded of Sirius’ head still in between your legs, lapping up the slick that had made a mess all over the insides of your thighs, James’ softening prick under one palm and Remus’ still rock hard one in the other.

All those worries you had let occupy your thoughts for months seemed stupid and trivial as you remembered just how much your boys loved you.

“Well would you look at that,” You were pulled from your thoughts by Remus’ voice, following his gaze to James who sat resting on his hands, panting, with an unmistakable stain fresh on the front of his trousers.

“Did Prongs cum in his pants?” Sirius simpered, also huffing, though for completely different reasons as he lifted his head from your cunt, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The seemingly normal sight sent a shiver up your spine but you quickly shook the thought away.

You nodded your head as your eyes caught on the stain on the front of his trousers but no one seemed to notice.

James’ cheeks were burning bright red as Remus came up behind him, brushing the hair out of his face as he leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of James’ head.

Remus helped the submissive boy to his feet, all the while murmuring quiet praises you couldn’t hear from where you laid until one was spoken loudly enough for your ears, “Come on bubba lets get those boxers off,” The sandy haired boy prompted, “Show (Y/N/N) how pretty you think she is, she made you cum in your pants, I don’t think any of us have ever done that before have we?”

James shook his head as Remus quickly undid the zipper on the other boy’s trousers. The taller boy kneeled to help him step out of his trousers and boxers, leaving him naked from the waist down.

It was an undeniably hot sight, James’ half hard cock resting against his toned thigh, both covered in his cum from his untimely release.

Your eyes were pulled up to Remus as he let out an appreciative hum as he inspected the ruined boxers in his hand.

He slipped onto the bed next to you, “Come on puppy sit up f’me,” Opening his arm for you to settle into his side.

“And you Jamesie,” He prompted, patting his thigh for the boy to sit on. As James settled onto the hard plane of muscle Remus’ still throbbing erection poked into his back, the leaking head smearing precum along the boy’s toned back.

Sirius settled in behind all three of you, peering over your shoulder at the soiled boxers, one hand resting on your shoulder and the other on Remus’. You melted under his touch and snuggled ever closer into Remus’ side, turning your head to press a kiss to the back of Sirius’ hand.

“Y’made Jamesie cum without even taking him out of his pants puppy, can you believe that? That’s how fucking sexy we all think you are, made him cum without even directly touching his cock princess.”

“S’like you’ve got super powers,” James interjected, his eyes trained on you, “Your hand angel, its magic.”

You chuckled at his choice of words, whether or not you were intentional you doubted but it made them all the more cute.

“It’s so pretty,” You murmured, running your index finger through the sticky mess before bringing it up to your lips, sucking it completely clean as you couldn’t get enough of James’ perfect taste. “You taste really good Jamesie.”

The boy at the center of your current conversation turned, hiding his head in the crook of Remus’ neck mumbling a “thank you” into the delicate scarred skin.

“Don’t need to be shy,” Sirius crooned, out of character with the gentleness in his tone, as he combed his fingers through James’ dark tresses, “It’s fucking unbelievable how hot it is.”

You smiled at the delicate interaction between the two boys as James looked up at Sirius with wide eyes and puckered his lips, silently demanding a kiss. It was a demand Sirius was all too ready to obey as he dipped down, sealing James’ lips with his.

As he pulled away he caught you staring at him with want etched all over your face, “Don’t worry puppy,” He simpered, moving to cup your face in his hand, “You can get a kissie too.”

His tongue brushed against the seal of your slips as he deepened the kiss before abruptly pulling away, not wanting to get himself any more wound up than he already was.

“My beautiful girl,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he smiled down at you.

“You two need to get cleaned up,” Remus spoke as you and Sirius gazed at each other, “You, especially Jamesie, made quite the mess of yourself.”

James whined at the subtle comment but aside from that made no other objection.

You on the other hand had other, more pressing worries.

“But what about you, Remmy? You’re still hard and Siri hasn’t even been touched yet, need to get you two off,” Your words came out frantic at the prospect of leaving two of the men you loved so much unsatisfied but Remus was quick to quell your worries with a soothing kiss to your hairline.

“Don’t worry poppet, Siri and I will take care of each other while Jamesie runs a bath for the two of you, yeah? We’ll be right in to join you, have a feeling neither of us are going to last all that long.”

You were reluctant to agree after how amazing you’d been made to feel by your boys since you’d arrived at the dorm and the thought of leaving two of them to take care of each other was frustrating, your frustration did not outweigh the pleasure a warm bubble bath promised and in the end you crumbled.

“Fine.”

“Good girl,” Remus extolled as James slipped from his lap and stood before you, arms open and ready to engulf your significantly smaller figure.

You all but leapt into his embrace, loving the way his strong arms could so easily support you.

“Come on angel,” He cooed down at you, “S’bath time.”

Remus and Sirius waited until the two of you had entered the adjoining bathroom before leaping to their feet, their hands quickly finding the other’s chest desperate to pull another close.

James kicked the door closed behind him but not with enough force to fully close the door, the room beyond it was still visible through a small crack.

Through the crack in the door you were able to see Remus and Sirius and even over the roar of the running water James had started that was slowly filling the ginormous bathtub that sat at the center of the room you could make out the words that fell from their lips.

“You’re gorgeous mon chéri,” Sirius muttered against Remus’ shoulder as he tugged on Remus’ cock, the two boys had made quick time and Sirius’ aching member was already in Remus’ palm.

“Just as beautiful as both of our babies.”

“Impossible.”

“Shut up and cum for Godric’s sake,” The smaller man whined, “I want a bath.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @dracofknmalfoy @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @advictedtohim @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter @wholebigboxofyikes @priii @miraclesoflove @thatvenusbabe @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @4kweasley @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @lilytheally @mo-jean @lolooo22 @adrianscumslut @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @daisyyy2516 @siriusmydeer @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @i-love-scott-mccall @thatdummymarie @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs

[internalsealpanic]

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

  A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

  warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat. 

 Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug. 

 You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh. 

 Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

 Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely.  You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question. 

 “Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement. 

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this. 

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

 So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

 Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him. 

 Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look. 

 You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

 You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

 Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

 After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but  Dick can't complain. 

 After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest. 

 "Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes. 

 Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

 You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

 Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him. 

 Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like. 

 He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick. 

 "I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring. 

 Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick. 

 "C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice. 

 "I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

 "But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

 "That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

 "I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff. 

 "-I'm calling it in."

 Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

 "Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

 Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-" 

 "Fine! What do you want?"

 Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off. 

 "I need you to help me catch fish."

 Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

 "Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

 "You're insane."

 "I think we reserve that term for Bruce." 

 Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

   You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them. 

 You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

 You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued. 

 You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound. 

 Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

 You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat. 

 A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

 "Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

 Dick is over the moon. 

 He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't. 

 Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater. 

 Dick is... concerned. 

 You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce. 

 You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

 Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you. 

 You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

 Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing. 

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

 Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

 You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

 He croons happily when you being to pet him.

 You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

 He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

 When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment. 

 "Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

 A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them. 

 You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and  I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers. 

 You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

 Thought process-wise, no.

 Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

 Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

 Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

   Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

 Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

 Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors. 

 Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later. 

 "Pup, what the fuck?"

 You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.  

 You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move.  “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move. 

 You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh. 

 Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there. 

 You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores. 

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket. 

 In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok. 

 You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep? 

 Tok, tok, tok. 

 Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.  

 Tok tok tok. 

 You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.  

 You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

 Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

 Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck. 

 You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack. 

 For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

 The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

 You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked. 

 You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you. 

 The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

 You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

 A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of  'your problem'.

 The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

 "Do you like sugar in your tea?"

 The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little. 

 You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat. 

 You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name. 

 You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

 There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face. 

 "Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper. 

 You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

 You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

 "I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

 The pout deepens into a frown.

 "(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?" 

 You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching.  "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

 "Pup?!"

 His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

 You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest.  "How is this possible?"

 He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

 You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill. 

 Dick might just be in heaven right now. 

 "I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

 You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

 Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head. 

 You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

 Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

 His insides twist as he peels of you. 

 Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave. 

 "Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-" 

 Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

 Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

 He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

 You whisper another apology.

 Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

 You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

   "If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity. 

 Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream. 

 "Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?" 

 Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming. 

 "She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you. 

 He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

 "Well no-"

 It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

 "She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail. 

 Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

 Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly. 

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

 "What?"

 Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head.  "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what?  The space of 15 minutes?"

 "I got confused." Dick sputters. 

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound.  "She probably feels terrible”.

 "Are you guilt-tripping me?"

 "Is it working?"

 "What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

 "Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

 Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

 Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out. 

 Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks. 

 Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment. 

 "DICKFACE!"

 "What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response. 

 "Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

 Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

 "Just steal some from her laundry."

  "But she'll be pissed."

 "Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

 Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

 Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand.  "I always make sense."

 Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time.  Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace.  His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

 Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock. 

 Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

 Tok.   Tok.   Tok. 

 The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it. 

 He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back. 

 Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

 Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night. 

 "Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his. 

  "Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you." 

 Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

 Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are.  Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut.  All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days. 

 "Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him. 

 Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

 You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features. 

 Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him. 

 Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

 Dick stops.

 You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck. 

 You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words. 

 Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

 You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up. 

 Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water. 

 "I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

 You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

 "I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands. 

 "So what are selkies?"

 Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

 "We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

 Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

 Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?" 

 Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?" 

 You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum.  Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

 Dick’s mouth dries.  “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly. 

 “Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

 “Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head.  His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

 You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water. 

 But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you. 

 “If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask. 

 Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

 He nods closing his eyes.  “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

 You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer. 

 “I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm. 

 “Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

 You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

 Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

 “I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

 “Fish.”

 Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle.  Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater. 

 “I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.  

 You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie. 

 Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.)  to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls).  Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes.  He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

 It wasn't always gifts though.

 Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred. 

 When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

 You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

 If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

 During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

 __________________________________________________________________________

 "Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on. 

 Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family. 

 Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason. 

 Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness.  "Ask Selina."

 No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

 Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

 Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron. 

 "Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize. 

 "Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly. 

 Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

 Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

 "Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

 "It screamed."

 "All soups scream."

 "I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

 Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

 "Great!"

 "Buuuut..."

 Of course, the price.

 "I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully. 

 The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested. 

 "Tell me why you need the book."

 Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron.  "... Why do you need to know?"

 Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

 Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

 "Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

 "You know her?"

 Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

 He has.

 "I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out. 

 "Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

 Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town. 

 "It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed. 

 You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes,  letting him snuggle up to you.  "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort. 

 Dick pouts.  "You're still gonna let me sleep here." 

 You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair. 

 "Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly.  He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

 "See." Dick trills with a happy grin. 

 "Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

 "No," he says,  "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

 "Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes." 

 Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

 "That was a selkie." Dick deadpans. 

 You stop your rambling. "What?!"

 "That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully. 

 Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

 "All of them, darling." Dick nods. 

 "Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up. 

 "Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head. 

 "No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

 Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation. 

 "You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums. 

 A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

 Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

 You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips. 

 You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

 "You don't believe me, do you?"

 "No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours. 

 You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

 Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his. 

 "I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

 You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

 "You can do it again." Please, he almost adds. 

 You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. 

 You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it. 

 "You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs. 

 You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

 "Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

 "Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

 "Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking. 

 Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper. 

 "Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute.  Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

 "Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

 "Never."

 ______________________________________________________________________

 Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire.  He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim. 

 Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools. 

 You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

 "Hey Dickie," you whisper.

 "Hmmmmm?" He groans.

 "Could you hand me your pelt?"

 "Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

 The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

 "Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins. 

 Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it. 

 Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

 You twitch your nose. "You missed."

 "Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

 You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his.  Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips. 

 "That clear enough, Dickie?"  You ask, pressing your forehead against his. 

 "Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon​​

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader

As you all can see, I got carried away just a little with this one. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I'm planning at least part two, since this part got soooo long.

Anyway!

I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. Sorry for any grammatical errors, as well as any confusion with syntax. English isn't my native but I always try my best! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Please, pay attention to the warnings. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics, simply do not read.

I pictured here Aro from the films (as Michael Sheen is perfect for this part), Caius from the films (maybe a little bit older) and Marcus from the films but his younger self (maybe 20?). Also, I wrote at one point that [Y/N] has blonde hair and blue eyes but it just helped me with the descriptions. Obviously, you can picture characters according to your wishes.

Warnings: Rape (graphic description!), Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy

Word count: 7816 (!)

Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings' mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?

You thought that the death of your parents was enough to break you. As they say, if you’re not willing to bend, you’ll break. And you did. After all.

Ever since you’ve been born, everything went downhill. You were a weak child and within your first five years of life, you’ve gone through countless surgeries. Something was terribly wrong with your spine and the doctors were worried that you wouldn't be able to move normally.

You got your ‘happily ever after’. After fourteen surgeries and taking more than a dozen medications, you could be considered healthy. It made you remember the better part of your childhood. At this point, you couldn’t even recall constant visits at hospital or ingesting enormous amount of drugs.

What you could recall, was the agony that your mom went through while dying of pancreatic cancer. You tried to help her but there was literally no help available. Sure, chemo did help, but only a little tiniest bit. When someone got this type of cancer, there was only one way to die. It was neither pretty, nor pleasant.

So your mother died when you were sixteen. Your father followed shortly after her. He suffered from severe depression after your mother’s passing, but it was the car accident that got him killed. You were just before your graduation.

You’ve finished school and tried to go on. It wasn’t exactly an easy path to follow. You had the feeling that fate had made you its whore and the devil knows his jokes. Somehow, you got through college. You used the money from your dad's insurance policy entirely for your education. It was the only thing you could do to secure your future.

At 22, you got a job at the same hospital where doctor Cullen worked. You were a nurse on the paediatrics ward, but the hospital in Forks was so small that you often found yourself working with doctor Cullen. He was always kind to you and exuded a fatherly warmth. However, like everyone from Cullen family, he was slightly withdrawn from all conversations and social activities.

You noticed a slight change in his behaviour when your best friend, Bella, started dating with the doctor's youngest son, Edward. Carlisle has been talking to you more and more. The conversations weren't long – more like short exchanges of words, whether about his family’s well-being or any leisure activities both of you devoted yourselves after work. Nevertheless, you started calling each other by the others’ given name.

You met with Bella on average once a week. Sure, you were four years older than her, but the age difference never was a problem. You always got along well, and age had nothing to do with it. With time, you've watched Bella thrive during her relationship with Edward and you've enjoyed her happiness. Your relationship had loosened a little, but you didn't hold it against her. With Forks being so small, you could easily meet Bella on the street or in a shop and talk to her about silly things or this boyfriend of hers. It made her blush furiously every time you brought up the topic, especially if Edward waited nearby.

And then, just like that, something snapped. Of course, you heard about their huge quarrel about god knows what, and that Bella wanted to make herself scarce immediately. Charlie called you that night if , by any chance, you could talk some sense into her. Bella not once picked up her phone and then she got her stupid ass into the hospital. And magically reconciled with Edward. That’s when you started to be suspicious. Something wasn’t right about this situation, at all, but you let it be.

Time passed and even though you liked Carlisle as a colleague, you became gradually suspicious about him and his family. Things that you noticed were little, almost insignificant, but something told you that there’s more than meets the eye. Bella herself began to limit contact with you, mainly due to her lack of time for Edward. But when you did get a chance to meet and talk, the subject of Edward still came to the surface.

You tried to understand your friend, while not understanding her at all. You also were in love once but your mother's illness and then your father's death took too much of a toll on you, to experience your first love in such an intense way. It was incomprehensible to you, how Bella could lose her head so much for this boy. And yet you tried, tried to be there when Bella needed you the most. Simply because you were a good friend and also because you needed a friend.

You were left alone, out in this world, with no one to care about and no one to love. Only Bella, as present and, most importantly, alive person, connected you with your childhood and good memories from that time. She was the only one left. You considered her your family and you didn’t want to lose her too. Not after all you’ve been through.

At the day of her birthday, you saw her quickly after her school. You gave her a small gift and you both agreed to meet a day later because Edward's family had invited her to stay at their place. After that birthday, everything changed. The next day Bella went missing. You went to her house exactly as agreed and Charlie said she had been gone for a few hours.

When Bella was found later that evening by Sam, Charlie's colleague, everything became frighteningly clear. The Cullens had moved out of town. Apparently, Carlisle had gotten a lucrative job somewhere else. That didn't surprise you, he was a really great doctor. But how could he not mention a word of it to you? Not that you were so close to him but you considered him a good comrade of yours and moving out of town like this, without a word… It seemed extremely strange to you.

The months that followed were very similar. Bella fell into a deep depression and apathy. You came to visit her, but during these visits it was mainly you who talked. You talked about work, about your next qualification course and about the anniversary of your mum's death. Bella mostly remained silent. Charlie confirmed that, yes, she did go to school, but apart from that, she sat in her room all day and stared at the window.

You knew from Charlie that she was slowly trying to reconnect with her friends. And that she was spending a lot of time with that boy from the reservation. You were happy because it meant that your friend was slowly coming back to life. Maybe not back to normal, not yet, but at least she was trying. And you were trying too. To be a good friend, a good sister to her.

You started talking more during your visits at her house. Unlike before, the subject of Edward didn't exist. It was as if he had never existed. So you did not mention him at all. Bella was healing, slowly, just as you were, when both of your parents died. She was there for you, even if you could only talk to her on the phone because, at that time, she permanently lived with Renee.

For the first time in several months, you hoped that things would somehow work out. In your life, the moments when you were truly happy never lasted long. It was the same this time. One day, you went to Port Angeles to buy new clothes for work. Yours were still from your university days, worn out, but not so long ago you were short of money and preferred to spend it on other things rather than buying new clothes.

By the time you got back to your car it was pretty late. The car park was deserted. On your way to the car, a man accosted you and, before you knew it, he had hit you on the head with something heavy. When you woke up, you were in a squalid alley. The man was pressing you against a wall with all his strength. You only realised what he was going to do, when you felt a cool breeze brush against your bare legs. Your trousers and underwear were almost at your ankles. You started to squirm, trying to free yourself from his iron grip. You heard his quiet giggle next to your ear.

"Don't resist angel, I’ll be quick," he whispered in your ear, pawing at your breasts with his left hand. You felt sick to your stomach. He had hideous breath, as if he had been drinking for three days, then puked and drank again. You started to jerk harder, to pull away, but it only caused you pain. He held tight, pushing against you with his whole body and whispering disgusting things under his breath. When he finally entered you, he tugged hard on your hair. He made no effort to cover your mouth because you didn't even try to scream. You were out of breath, unable to say a word. You were afraid that he would kill you. You wanted him to go away so that the pain would end and you could finally go home.

When he finished, he let you go and just walked away. You stood there, half naked, frozen and shaken, for god knows how long. You were unable to move. When you felt his semen running down your leg, you finally managed to vomit. Your cheek was bruised and scratched from how hard he pressed you against the rough wall. You wanted to go home, but you didn't have the strength to get up from the street.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you finally got up. You got dressed and walked to your car. Everything hurt. You didn't want to, but you knew, you had to go to the hospital. You could not leave it like that. He had already hurt you, but what about the others? You couldn't let that happen. All the way to the hospital in Port Angeles your hands were trembling. Returning to that memory, you didn't even remember how you got to the ER.

At the hospital, they took care of you properly. They called the police. Two female doctors were there for a medical examination. The nurses were very nice. You tried to put on a good face. You've thought about how your sexual experiences has been so far. Your first sex, like most people's, was terrible. Your boyfriend was two years older, you were 17 and it all went wrong. You were in pain. He didn't seem too happy either. Up until you graduated from high school, you tried to make it work somehow, but there were never any fireworks. It wasn't until college that you discovered the good side of sex.

However, you never had sex with someone you loved more than life. You haven't met anyone like that. And you were sure that sex with that person would be unique and exceptional. Until now, of course. Lying on a hospital bed, you felt exploited. Abused. Filthy. Humiliated. How can one do something like that to another person? The nurse asked if someone could come and pick you up, and you didn't have much of a choice. You called Bella. While she was on her way to the hospital, you let the police officers question you. You mechanically slurred the words as if it wasn't about you at all. As if it wasn’t you that had been raped.

As soon as you saw Bella, you were no longer able to pretend that nothing had happened. You were sobbing and she hugged you tight, telling you that he would pay for it. You weren't so sure about that. You wanted to be home as soon as possible, so you went back to Forks. Bella said nothing while driving because there was nothing that could be said. In the shower, you scrubbed yourself so hard with the pumice that you thought you had taken off all your skin. To your absolute disgust, you could still feel his touch on you. You could hear him whisper against your ear and you could smell his hideous breath.

A week has passed. Bella texted you every day, and you were able to hang out almost every other day. She was a good sister, a great friend. She didn't want to leave you alone in this. Despite being offered leave, you went to work. You didn't want to keep thinking about what happened. Each time, after taking a bath, you were unable to look in the mirror. On the first day, right after scrubbing, you decided to take a look. You had bruises on your stomach, thighs, buttocks and breasts. Your forearms were scraped, your cheek was scratched and bruised. The worst of it was that you had been bleeding for days. The gynaecologist said, it was due to too much force, and the fact that you actively resisted for a while.

You were trying to get back to normal. You went to work, you were seeing Bella and taking your course. But no one could touch you. You didn't even shake hands to say hello. You didn't care at all, you couldn’t endure a touch anymore. Not in any way. You didn't get your period, but the doctor said it could happen. It was a shock to the body and a lot of pain to bear. Also, you bled for almost a week after the rape.

You started to be afraid to go out alone. When in a shop or at work, if anyone approached you from behind, you started panicking and hyperventilating. You couldn’t walk ordinarily on the street. You looked behind every two or three minutes to assure yourself that nobody was following you. Your hands trembled while driving the car or making the tea. Your eyes were starting to water as soon as someone even tried to touch you. You had nightmares and you started losing your mind because of this.

When your period did not come in the following month, you began to worry. Surely you couldn't get pregnant with this... monster. Not you. Of course you have checked. You would not be able to live in such ignorance. It turned out that yes, you indeed were pregnant. When the doctor confirmed it, you fainted. Not you, not like that. You didn't even think you'd ever be a mum. Let alone like this. You hated your body even more and the fact that it had betrayed you in such a villainous way.

You knew this path led to madness. You were in an even worse mental condition, than after losing your mum; than after dad died in the accident. You have shed countless tears. You didn't want to abort this pregnancy, and at the same time you wanted it with all your heart. If only you were able to defend yourself. Break away from him and run as far away as possible. It would never have happened. But you were weak and didn't even have the energy to scream. Would it have made any difference though?

You were constantly beating yourself up with thoughts about whether you should keep the baby, when something completely bizarre happened. Jacob called you that he had to rescue Bella after jumping off a cliff. Annoyed, you got in your car and drove up to the Swans' house. Bella's car wasn't there, so you waited patiently in yours. When they arrived, you were boiling with rage.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” you shouted, as you got out of the car.

Bella rolled her eyes. She looked miserable. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was soaked through. She smiled weakly towards you.

“It was just for fun, you know” she muttered, as you hugged her tightly. It was your first closer contact since…

“It was just for sport,” she tried again.

You snorted in annoyance.

“Yeah, sure, get inside before you get sick.”

As you both stepped onto the porch, Jacob unexpectedly grabbed Bella's wrist. They shared a look.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. You can go now, Jake,” she muttered, trying to disentangle herself from his grasp.

You smiled weakly at him, while Bella was looking for her keys.

“Cool, I'll take care of her until Charlie gets back. Thanks for saving her stupid ass,” you said. Jacob smiled amused, but still seemed slightly tense.

“No problem. Always at your service,” he joked. “Well... See ya around,” he said goodbye and walked away to his car.

You walked into the house with Bella.

“What were you thinking? You could have died” you muttered under your breath, stripping off your jacket.

“Well...actually I wasn't thinking, like, at all” Bella admitted, smiling apologetically at you.

“Next time think about Charlie,” you said, hugging her once more. Your body screamed that you shouldn't do that, but you were glad that Bella was okay.

While Bella changed into dry clothes, you made hot tea for both of you. Someone knocked on the door. The knocking was not from the front, but from the courtyard. You walked slowly to the door and opened it. Edward's sister, Alice, stood in front of you. You wouldn't have known what she looked like, if Bella hadn't shown you pictures of her. But other than that, you knew quite a bit about her, because when Bella was still with Edward, she couldn’t kept her mouth shut about Alice.

“Hi. Can I come in?” she asked politely. She tried to look normal, but there was something in her behaviour that made you nervous. You were about to reply, when Bella appeared in the kitchen.

“Alice!” she squealed, throwing herself around the brunette's neck. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at Alice in disbelief. "Are you really here? Or am I just dreaming this?" asked Bella.

It was your turn to roll the eyes.

“Of course she’s here” you said, now slightly annoyed. “Don’t be bothered by me, please, proceed to whatever you wanted to say.”

Your sarcastic tone was not intended, but justified. You were slowly beginning to get fed up with this family's games. First they move out and turn Bella's life upside down, and now the big comeback? Something's not right here. Besides, at that moment, you weren't the right person to play with. You had enough problems of your own and your life was messed up enough. What you didn't know at that moment, was that everything was about to change fundamentally very soon.

Alice took no notice of you.

"Bella, listen. Edward thinks you committed suicide. He told me that he doesn't want to live either, so he is on his way to the Volturi to ask them for an execution."

You had no idea what she was talking about. Bella was terrified, and you didn't know what was going on here.

"What, who the fuck are Volturi? Did Edward get involved with some cult? Also, how did he know Bella killed herself?" you asked, not understanding anything of what Alice was talking about earlier.

"We have to go to Italy, Bella,” she ignored you once more. “If they refuse him, I'm not sure what he'll do" as Alice spoke, Bella began to gather herself quickly to leave.

You grabbed her hand.

"And where do you think you are going?" you asked in disbelief. Bella looked at you apologetically.

"Y/N, I have to go. They're going to murder him. Just the fact that I'm alive will convince him."

You snorted in disbelief.

"You're dead serious? And can't you call him and tell him it's a misunderstanding? Besides, Bella, this guy ghosted you. He left you here, alone, with not one explanation and you want to fly to the other side of the world to save this dumb ass?" you asked, trying to take your mind off this ludicrous circumstance.

“Oh my god, we’ll take her with us if she’s not going to back down” said Alice in exasperation.

“And to your kind information, I won't back down. Your douchebag brother and the rest of your family turned her adrift. I was the one who pulled her out of her depression, and I will not let the exact same thing happen again because of any of you,”you hissed out in anger. You saw something in Alice's eyes that you considered to be admiration.

You looked at Bella expectantly.

“Y/N, I still love him. I cannot let this go” Bella whispered and you felt as your chest tightened. “Please…”

You heaved a heavy sigh.

“Okey, but I’m coming with you,” you decided and noticed that Alice's eyes were momentarily clouded with mist. You had no idea what was going on here, but you were sure that this whole affair with the Volturi, whoever the hell they were, didn't sound good.

After a few seconds, Alice looked at Bella, then at you and back at Bella.

“Get your coats, we have to go now,” she said.

“But Alice...” protested Bella.

“There's no time for that. We'll explain everything to her on the way. If we start now, we won't get out of here until noon” she muttered exasperatedly, walking out of the house. You looked at Bella.

“Bells, what's this all about?” you asked, and she just sighed quietly. You both quickly got your shoes on.

“We'll tell you on the plane but I'm afraid the Volturi won't like that a lot,” she said with worried expression on her face.

When you were at the airport waiting for a plane, you had countless questions in your head. Why the fuck Edward was pulling such nonsense? Why to be so dramatic about thing that didn’t even happen? Did this idiot really get involved in some sort of cult? And why was his sister so concerned about it that she decided to tell you ‘everything’, whatever needed to be said? However, the question that kept you wondering was who were the mysterious Volturi and what could they possibly resent about you?

One thing you were sure of. There hadn't been a moment since the sexual assault when you hadn't thought about it. And now your thoughts were occupied by the mysterious Volturi and you immensely wanted to find out what it was really all about.

⋎⋎⋎

On a plane ride, you found out that vampires are no fairy tales and your best friend was in love with one. It was a wild thought but, as soon as Alice started taking, you knew it wasn’t a joke. You were given so much information at once that you were unable to respond to anything as Alice finished her long monologue. You had a drink of water, although at that moment you very much regretted not being able to drink whisky.

“Okey, lets say I get most of this…” you said with a low voice, trying to be careful with what you’re saying. “But can you tell me who are Volturi and why would they want to decapitate Edward?” you asked, looking sideways, afraid that someone might hear.

Alice let out a sigh.

“The Volturi are the equivalent of the justice system in our world. They are the ones who created the laws that help us hide from the world, and they are the ones who enforce them. They consider themselves… sort of royalty, as their leaders – Aro, Caius and Marcus – are over three thousand years old.”

If you were to be honest, you were not very good at processing this information. Three thousand years? The first thought that popped into your mind was that they must be immensely lonely. You were sure you wouldn't want to live so many years without having anyone worthy by your side. Later, Alice quickly summarised all the laws that every vampire must obey. They weren't complicated, but when you thought about it a little longer, some of them weren't so easy to follow.

“I don't want to whine, or come off as ungrateful or anything like that, but... didn't you just break the law? By telling me about you?” you asked cautiously, not knowing if what you were saying was right.

Alice sighed again, this time heavier than before.

“It’s complicated” she said succinctly, which interested Bella, who was eating some kind of sandwich.

“This vision of yours was about [Y/N]?” she asked Alice curiously. Alice merely nodded. When Alice told you about her gift, and this was at the very beginning of the story, you found it hard to believe. It wasn’t so unbelievable now.

"Eat something," Alice said to you. "It's good for the baby" she added after a moment, seeing you hesitate. You swallowed heavily, as you suddenly felt sick. The memories of that evening came back.

Alice smiled softly, as if knowing exactly what you were thinking about. And this was supposed to be Edward's gift.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" she asked, and your eyes almost fell out.

"Can you predict that?" you asked in disbelief. She and Bella both smiled. Alice nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, sure. I can't predict if the baby... you know, if it will be born, however, the sex I can tell you.”

You pondered on it, while eating your sandwich. The nausea eased, when you could think of something different than that unlucky evening. Before you knew it, you fell asleep and Alice woke you up when you landed in Italy. As Alice drove the stolen car, you tried to admire the beautiful views of Tuscany outside your window. When you had almost reached Volterra, you thought how wonderful it would be to live here.

⋎⋎⋎

This stupid boyfriend of hers. That was all his fault. Of course, Bella made it at the last minute. You, together with Alice, went to abandon the stolen car somewhere. Although, you had a feeling that you would be returning the exact same way. You tried to reassure yourself. Of course you’ll be returning. Or maybe not? If you were honest, you gave no fucks about it. You had no one who’d wait for you at home, your parents died, you were brutally raped not so long ago, and you didn’t even know if you wanted to keep the baby. Maybe dying today isn’t such a bad idea?

You have reached the square and entered the palace at a very convenient time. The guy who looked like a wardrobe and the other one, much shorter than him and blonde, looked like they were about to murder Edward in this instant. And actually, you felt like you could’ve murdered Edward too. Barely Alice closed the door, you didn't even glance at the two of them, but immediately began to scold Edward for what he had done. To hell with his gift!

“You stupid, immature, irresponsible, reckless and selfish bastard!” you started descriptively, and even Bella was taken aback by your behaviour. Alice raised her eyebrows and two other vampires looked at themselves and then straight at you. Edward had no time for any reply. “If you ever, I repeat, if you ever again do something as childish and irresponsible as expose my best friend to a nervous breakdown and months of depression, I promise you, here and now, that I will decapitate you myself. You're old, and yet a five-year-old child is smarter than you. You utter imbecile,” you hissed with hatred.

Of course, your malice towards him was temporary, but it's been a long time since anyone has angered you like that. The shorter man laughed under his breath, and the other one, who looked like a wardrobe, said:

“Can we keep her? I like the way she’s ruling the roost.”

He fell silent, as a short, pretty blonde woman entered the room. Her face was like a child's, but her eyes... bright red, staring at no one else but you.

“Jane” greeted her Edward. She didn’t even look at him.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long” she said. The atmosphere immediately became tense. Edward and Alice seemed to stiffen at the sound of Aro's name. You were curious but not frightened. Not yet.

Jane turned and immediately started walking towards the long corridor. Bella just looked at Edward, and you glanced at Alice.

“Do what she says,” she muttered to you and you both kept pace with the couple in the front.

Needless to say, it was the most stressful and also the most terrifying lift ride you've ever experienced. Not to add the creepy music background. You guessed it was supposed to make you feel better, but instead it made your whole stomach go up to your throat. You were standing right in the middle, next to Bella, holding Alice's hand. The vampire, who looked like a wardrobe, kept looking at you. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Puking on someone's shoes isn't going to make this situation any better. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Edward smile. Yeah, the situation you’ve found yourself in was extremely funny indeed.

When you reached the main chamber, you didn't know what to look at first. At the vampires standing against every wall? Not very wise of you. At the marble floor? Nothing to be afraid of for now, so no. You probably should have looked at the three thrones in front of you and the vampires that sat on them, but instead, you were interested in the Latin phrase engraved between the columns above you.

You glanced at your company. Edward looked as if he was about to die. Maybe that's what's going to happen? Alice looked very out of sorts, and Bella, well, she was hanging onto Edward's arm and also looked like she was about to leave this world for good. She was unnaturally pale and you though she was going to faint any second. But it never happened. The rest of the room felt extremely comfortable. For a moment, you turned your head towards the boy who called out to Jane. You did not let go of Alice's hand but you did not feel any anxiety. Curiosity prevailed, mainly because you had come to terms with the fact of your imminent death.

“Sister! Sent you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves,” the boy who’s just called Jane his sister probably was talking about me and Bella. “Such a clever girl,” he praised her like he wasn’t his sister but someone else entirely. You sighed heavily. Maybe they’re also into incest-kind-of-relationships? Who knows. You looked above your head again. There was a short inscription “vita brevis, ars longa” but you knew the rest of it. Latin was obligatory in every medical school.

When the man from the middle throne stood up, it was to him that you directed all your attention. You felt that something about him was... you had no idea how to describe it, but you felt a strange pull towards him. As if some invisible force had power over you.

“What a happy surprise!” he said pointedly, wide smile on his face. “Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful?” he said cheerfully, while walking towards Edward. At that exact moment, you realised that you had managed to get yourself into a huge mess. The lair of the vampires. And you were only a weak human. Recently raped. With a baby under your heart.

As soon as the man stepped down from the platform, you were unable to take your eyes off him. His posture, the way he spoke, his demeanour, it all made you feel incredible respect for him. You’ve never felt this secure and calm in your entire life.

“I love a happy ending,” the man said, while he took Edwards’ hand into his. “They’re so rare.”

You were wondering why this man took Edward’s hand in the first place. You did not have to wait long for an explanation.

“Aro can read every thought that I’ve ever had. With one touch” Edward explained to Bella but you were listening too. Very carefully listening. You’ve finally managed to know the name of the vampire. Aro. It suited him well. Although his eyes were a little scary, you were delighted with his charisma and approach to guests. You realised that indeed, they are called the royal family for a reason.

Aro smiled to Edward.

“Her blood appears to you so much,” he whispered, and you had a hard time hearing his words well. Aro’s gaze rested on Bella. “It makes me thirsty. How can you stand to be so close to her?” he asked Edward, who was feeling more and more uncomfortable. You could tell by the fact that he was practically standing like a statue.

“It is not without difficulty,” muttered Edward from behind his clenched teeth.

You swallowed hard, as Aro turned his gaze to Bella again but he smiled.

“Ah, I can see that” he said pleased, moving away from Edward and focusing all his attention on Bella.

“Although you’re a quite soul-reader yourself, Edward, you cannot read Bella’s thoughts” he made a rather dramatic pause, still staring stubbornly at your best friend. “Fascinating” he said, not hiding his curiosity.

You managed to look elsewhere, than at Aro. The man on the throne to your left seemed unusually agitated. He fixed his gaze on you, as if his life depended on it, yet you did not feel uncomfortable. You were surprised to discover that an invisible force was also drawing you towards him. You almost took a step forward. You tried to remember the man from a few minutes ago. He looked as if he had died in that chair a few centuries ago. And now he seemed genuinely moved.

“Brother” the man spoke to Aro, as he got up from his throne. Indeed, there seemed to be an urgency to the matter, for Aro turned around in surprise. You had the impression that the man from the throne had not risen from it for a long time.

“You knew about this, and you brought her anyway?” you heard Edward's quiet whisper, directed at Alice.

Alice looked at her brother, then at you and finally at a curious Aro.

"It would have happened anyway. Better sooner than later" Alice murmured mysteriously. You still didn't know what it was even about. The third man, the one on your right, did not share his brothers' patience.

"Aro, let's hurry this up, Heidi will be here soon, and we don't want to frighten our guests" he said ominously, grinning like a madman. You were far from solving this riddle, but as soon as you looked at him, you felt the same attraction and enigmatic pulling as towards the other two.

Aro took his brother's hand in his own and you could see that his eyes would have lit up with happiness if they could.

“Ah, my dear Marcus! What an exceptional news!” intoned Aro cheerfully, heading towards you. He was slow in his movements, exactly so that you would not be frightened by him. All his movements were framed by an incredible grace.

“My dear, if I may, what is your name?” he asked, coming closer to you. You were unable to take your eyes off him. It was exactly, as if he had hypnotised you, only the feeling was more addictive. You didn't have to have a gift or to be a vampire to know that. For a split second, you ran out of breath and just stared into his red irises.

“My name is [Y/N]” you said, with your voice trembling, as your throat tightened hard under the intense emotions. You couldn't believe it was really happening. Maybe it was just a dream? Maybe these three beautiful men are just a figment of your imagination? You didn't even want to think about the fact that it might not be true.

Aro smiled encouragingly, while looking at you with all the attention that he’d possibly give you. You felt like nothing more was more important than you to him at that exact moment.

"It is an incredible pleasure to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Aro, but you already know that.”

The smile never left his face and during this brief exchange of words, neither of you took your eyes off the other. You felt that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Aro extended his alabaster hand in an inviting gesture.

“May I, my dear?” he asked you politely.

You gulped. Of course, you wanted to show him that you didn't want to give away their secret. You wanted to show him the strange bond you felt towards him and his brothers. However, there were things you didn't want him to see. You felt deep down inside that this attraction had an explanation and you didn't want him to see... Not that. You’d felt exposed and extremely embarrassed. There was also another issue. His hand. You'd hugged Bella twice since it happened and just now you were holding Alice's hand. You didn't know if, when you touched him, you'd start screaming or crying because you were so afraid of someone else's touch.

Yet, his hand looked so inviting, almost familiar, as if you'd already had the chance to touch it before. Aro himself showed no impatience. He waited, still gazing into your blue irises with his crimson eyes. You extended your hand towards him, at first cautiously, and then with a little more confidence. You took a deep breath, before your fingers made contact. When it happened, you felt as if you had come home after many years of wandering. He closed your hand in his, just as he had done with Edward's. His skin was cold, but he handled you extremely gently. You stared into his eyes as he looked at your thoughts and memories of your whole life. You knew instantly when he was done because he smiled sadly at you. He squeezed your hand gently in his.

"Never again, my love. Never again," he assured passionately, and then he leaned down to place a kiss on your hand. It was so light and as gentle as a breeze on a summer day. You couldn't help but smile.

Aro clapped his hands. He was clearly pleased with what had just happened between you.

"Aro, will you explain to me what's going on? I'm sick of waiting," said the nervous brother, who was the only one with blond hair. Aro smiled widely and turned towards him.

"Ah, Caius, you'll never guess. Finally, after so many years, our mate has honoured us with her presence" he said overjoyed and Caius frowned in awe. You were already able to tell that this did not happen often. Marcus, on the other hand, was sitting on his throne, smiling, still looking in your direction. You didn't miss the glances of the other vampires either. Was it some sort of celebration when Marcus was smiling?

“What does that mean?” it was Bella who snapped that question. Aro immediately appeared by her side. He gently stroked her hair, pulling an unruly strand behind her ear. You felt the sting of jealousy, when he touched her face. You should be the one asking that question and not her.

“Ah, and dear Isabella. What to do with you,” he wondered aloud, as if asking others for advice. “As I have far more important matters to deal with....” he began, looking directly at you. “I’d love to see if you’re an exception to my gift as well,” he whispered to Bella, extending his hand towards her. She didn't have much choice, did she? She took his hand, a little hesitantly, but after a short while Aro moved away.

“Interesting” he muttered. “I see nothing.”

“You already know what you’ll do with her, Aro” said Marcus, his eyes never leaving your person. “Just do it, as we want to know our little angel a bit more.”

You looked at Bella for a moment. She was terrified, not only with her own case, but also with yours. You have already guessed that you are not going anywhere. They would never let you out of their hands. Aro knew perfectly well that you didn't even have anything to go back to. Of course, you had plenty of questions, but you were sure it wasn't about your case now. Just about Bella's situation and what the Cullens had done, or rather what they hadn't done. However, you guessed it, Bella was afraid you wouldn't get out of here alive, and at the same time, you were worried about the exact same thing but about her.

Aro was smiling continuously.

“I have an idea” he said, after a long while. He approached Alice this time. “Would you be so kind, dear, and show me if you saw Bella's transformation in your vision?”

You were smart enough to know that it wasn’t a request. Alice undid her glove and boldly gave Aro her hand. He was absent for a moment and then smiled again. You were impressed by the aura he spread around himself. When he smiled, you felt like smiling too. You still had the impression that it was only a dream, and simultaneously you were sure that it was really happening. Aro's touch was definitely real, you couldn’t forget his cool hands embracing your own.

“Ah, lovely. I know everything now,” he declared. You and Bella probably looked similarly confused, but you weren't the least bit concerned and she was as pale as a sheet.

Aro turned directly to Edward.

“As I have seen Isabella's transformation in Alice's vision, I can let you go with peace of mind, my dear young friends. I trust that a date will be set sooner, rather than later and that I will be able to see for myself, what your mate will be capable of, Edward. As for you, Isabella, you are promising immortal material and I hope your potential will not go to waste," he said, this time speaking directly to Bella.

She was still brave enough to look him in the eye.

“And what with [Y/N]? You never mentioned what will happen to her” she noticed, looking in your direction. You smiled gently to her.

“I’m staying here, Bella” you said calmly, trying to reassure her with your tone of voice that all shall be all right.

You saw pure admiration and joyousness on Aro’s face as you said that.

“Isn’t she remarkable, brothers?” he asked Marcus and Caius, who looked as if they had just received the most beautiful Christmas present.

Bella seemed to be thoroughly outrageous.

“You can’t be serious [Y/N]! You cannot stay here, please, come back with us. You cannot be here while you’re pregnant” she cried, holding your hand and looking at you with disbelief.

What she said made you very uncomfortable and extremely upset.

"Bella, I have nothing to go back to. My parents are dead. You knew that if Alice told me everything, it would have to be resolved somehow," you stated matter-of-factly, squeezing her hand in yours. "I can't go back there, Bells." Your throat tightened with despair as memories of recent events flooded inside your mind. You tried to hold back tears.

"I am a shadow of my former self. I'm afraid to leave the house alone to go shopping or to work. This paranoia is overwhelming me, Bella. I keep turning behind me to see if anyone is following me on the street. I cry at night, knowing that it doesn't change anything. And then there's this unfortunate baby," you sighed helplessly, trying not to burst with tears. "Even if I keep it, I don't want it to have a mother who's afraid to leave the house. I can't live like this, we both know that" you whispered, squeezing her hands in yours again.

“But you cannot possibly be mated with all three of them” Bella whispered with despair in her eyes. You only smiled, sensing that this sentence got on Kings’ nerves, especially Caius’s.

“I think it’s predestined, Bella. Just as you are destined to be with Edward, I do belong here, with my mates” you said cautiously, glancing at Aro and looking for approval in his eyes. He was only looking at you with delight, as he said nothing.

You saw that Bella had hard time processing such information, whilst Edward and Alice said nothing at all. You knew that Alice knew prior about this, and Edward could see the vision in her thoughts. You pulled Bella into a comfortable hug.

“Hey, sister, we don’t see each other the very last time. We’ll meet again. Probably in a different…condition but still.”

Bella looked devastated.

“You promise me that?” she asked warily, her tone full of hope. You smiled at her.

“Of course I do.” You kissed her cheek and caressed her long, brown hair. “We can call each other, you know. It’s not like I’m moving to the Moon,” you joked, to release the tension a bit. To your astonishment, everybody in the room laughed at that. It made you blush, just a little tiny bit.

After another farewell, in which this time you also included Alice and Edward (barely, because you were still mad at him) and an official farewell from Aro, who told them to give his friend kind regards from him, the guests left the chamber.

They left, and Aro was immediately by your side. He gently stroked your long blonde hair, but didn't touch a single piece of a skin. After the display of your memories, he probably knew very well that you did not wish any touch for the time being.

You still couldn't free yourself from under his spell and if you were to be honest, you didn't want to at all. Aro offered you his arm.

"I believe, we have much to discuss, my love."

You took his arm gratefully.

"I have a ton of questions," you admitted as you walked out of the chamber with Marcus and Caius slowly following you. You didn't need to look back, the strange bonds that drew you together informed you of their presence in a yet unknown way.

Aro, as usual, smiled magnificently.

"My dear, one thing at a time," he said in a gentle tone, as he patted your forearm with tenderness. When you entered the study with the round table, Aro immediately pushed back a chair for you.

"No one is to disturb us" you heard Caius' sharp tone as he closed the door behind you. You tried to feel comfortable and at ease. After all, this was your home from now on.

Part 2 | Part 3

[garc-i-a]

Why JATP Is Taking a While to Get Officially Renewed

Thought I would put my thoughts into words on the renewal situation. We know that the show was released on Netflix on September 10, 2020. As of today, it has been 242 days (10 May 2021). Julie and the Phantoms was released under Netflix Family, marking it as a children’s show on the streaming service. It was released in the middle of the second wave of the coronavirus (in the US) that has swept the world over. The show was created by Kenny Ortega, legendary choreographer and director.

To start off, we have to acknowledge that we ARE in a pandemic. Due to that, things have been touch and go in so many industries. That includes the TV/Film industry as well. The US and Canada, the two countries involved in making the show, have to follow the rules and laws related to COVID regardless of what people in the industry want. With that, we have to pay attention to what is going on with the pandemic to know how to go about filming. 

As of right now, Canada still has closed borders from the US to nonessential travel. To get into Canada as a foreigner you have to be going for a specific reason and follow all the Covid related travel rules. To read more about this, you can go to canada.ca and type in for traveling during the pandemic. Not to mention that for a lot of areas in Canada, they are still essentially in lockdown because of the now rising numbers in the country. Charlie’s home province of New Brunswick is still pretty restricted. 

Regarding vaccinations, although the United States has been slowly getting people vaccinated, Canada has had issues with getting vaccinations and don’t nearly have as many vaccinated. It is only just a few days ago that New Brunswick started administering vaccinations in the last few days. The vaccinations are only for people who are 50+ who fall into specific medical condition guidelines. For British Columbia, where the show is filmed, vaccines started getting administered the third week of April. It is believed there is a chance of getting all* adults vaccinated by mid June. My source for this information is from a native New Brunswicker and a CTV News article.

For the cast, getting vaccinated is paramount. Owen is already vaccinated. Madison’s dad is also vaccinated so it is likely she is as well or part way there. Now for people who are NOT vaccinated yet, most vaccines are administered in two doses. The doses are done about three weeks apart (I am partially vaccinated and my first dose was already done and second is next week). This knowledge is important as people need to be aware of the timing of these things. The amount of time between vaccines and for everyone in the cast and crew is essential for everything to go smoothly with filming.

One of the big things that I have seen a lot is the outrage at other shows on Netflix being renewed before Julie and the Phantoms. There is a two fold answer to this. To start off, we have to remember that because of this pandemic, things take longer to process to be extra diligent and that more money is be used to cover for reconstructions and accommodations due to Covid. Knowing these two things, let’s delve into the renewals of other shows.

Some of the other shows that have been renewed are Fate: The Winx Saga, Bridgerton, Ginny and Georgia, and Emily in Paris. The big difference between these shows and Julie and the Phantoms is the fact they are not in the Netflix Family category. They are considered content for adults or young adults. Netflix has different rules on their shows that are put out on the regular platform versus the family section. Netflix Family rarely posts when a show is renewed so far from its premiere date for the next season. So in that respect, Julie and the Phantoms wouldn’t be given a huge announcement for the next season’s renewal if it follows the pattern of Netflix Family’s marketing.

Tying into this the matter of where the rest of the shows are filmed and the backing behind them in regards to production. The Winx show and Bridgerton are filmed in the UK, Ginny and Georgia is filmed in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, and Emily in Paris is filmed on location in France. The reason that this matters is because these places have different rules for working during this pandemic, the vaccinations levels, and the threat of getting sick from Covid. These shows are also connected to larger properties or influential individuals*. Vancouver is a popular city to film in, of course, but it has been dealing with an uptick in cases as well as in a different province than Ginny and Georgia, and as such has their own rules. We cannot take into the likes of Riverdale or other shows that are filming right now in Vancouver. Lots of these shows were renewed and set to film already when the pandemic hit. They do not factor into things.

The last part of this is the production costs for making the show. As mentioned before, Vancouver is a popular city to film in. Due to the pandemic, it costs more to film because the need to have extra precautions, regular Covid testing, and etc. We know that there were shows that were initially renewed by Netflix but then canceled after the fact. The reason for this is that Netflix likely realized the cost to produce the shows would be too much and not in the best interest of the cast, crew, and any companies involved in the middle of such a huge reaching pandemic.

Compared to other shows in the Netflix Family section, Julie and the Phantoms has a high production level. I did some research on the Netflix originals in the section and the shows on there are either very low budget or have a backing from a franchise/company (ex. Baby Boss, Fast and Furious, Jurassic Park). Julie and the Phantoms does not have that. It is not connected to an established franchise or a large company. It is simply made by the likes of Kenny Ortega who does not skimp on anything in his productions. Kenny has stated that he is not willing to let the grandness of the show suffer because of the pandemic. The show has many crowd scenes and dancing sequences that require a lot of people. The show won’t be what it is without this. Based on this, we know that Netflix wants to be absolutely sure they can go forth with filming before announcing a renewal.

And there you guys go. All the information that I looked into and checked for this piece. I hope this helps many people understand what is going on why it is taking longer for the show to get renewed. It is not that Netflix doesn’t want to renew it. It is a matter of HOW and WHEN. If that makes sense. If you have any questions about what I wrote, you can leave a comment or DM me.

all*- Some individuals may not wish to be vaccinated

influential individuals*- There are people connected to some of the shows that have a standing within the media and the finances or awards to warrant being a part of the show or it being made at all.

Amendment

I was informed by my source in New Brunswick that vaccines have been administered since January but the qualification for who is eligible for the vaccines can change from week to week.

Amendment 2

Reuters has reported that children aged 12-15 are able to start getting the vaccine today (13 May 2021). So that means that Jadah and Sonny (15 and 13, respectively) will be fully vaccinated by the middle of June.

Amendment 3

A few days ago a local upstate New York newspaper wrote about Canada starting the process of opening up borders again. The process is in the beginning stages so there is no announced date(s) on the border reopening but it is in the works.

Amendment 4

A show called Firefly Lane has been renewed for a season 2. This is important because Firefly Lane is filmed in the same area of British Columbia as Julie and the Phantoms. British Columbia is getting better in regards to vaccinations and so this proves good news of a season 2 announcement for Julie and the Phantoms.

Amendment 5

It was reported on 21 or 22 June 2021 that Canada will relax quarantine rules for vaccinated Canadian citizens, permanent residents, and foreign nationals for essential work. This new system will go into effect 5 June 2021. If you are fully vaccinated and pass rules set by the government, you will NOT have to abide by the hotel quarantine steps when entering the country. That means that the JATP cast and crew can get to filming right away instead of quarantining beforehand. To read more about this: https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.lonelyplanet.com/amp/articles/canada-border-reopening

Amendment 6

On Charlie’s live yesterday (28 June 2021), Madison said that she got the second dose of the vaccine earlier in the day. In 14 days, she will be good to go on going out and such. Hopefully Jadah and Sonny have gotten at least their first dose. Gets us closer to being able to have the cast and crew together for the show.

Amendment 7

The National Law Review published an article on 2 July 2021 saying that fully vaccinated individuals will be able to travel between Canada and the US on 21 July or possibly sooner. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau says he wants 75% of Canadians to be fully vaccinated before allowing the border to be opened. With current numbers, it is believed this will be achieved in a few weeks time.

Amendment 8

The New York Times just reported that fully vaccinated Americans could be allowed into Canada by mid August and that people from other countries could be allowed to enter by September.

Amendment 9

It was just reported about two hours ago that Canada will allow vaccinated Americans in on 9 August. That is exactly 3 weeks from now on a Monday. Now all we have to focus on is protocols for safety while in Vancouver while filming.

[trashywormeateroffics]

The right universe.

Summary: After Y/N's life turns upside down, she's full of grief. Somehow, one day, she manages to travel to the MCU, where she meets her favorite characters, including a certain god who seems willing to establish a friendship with her. Suddenly she's enwrapped in this new world, where everything she loved in a screen is now reality. How will she react? Will she be able to deal with the ghosts that haunt her? Or will she let them consume her? Will she be open to accept the love she is offered? Read to find out!

Read this on AO3! 

Category: F/M.

Relationships: Loki/reader.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Vision (Marvel), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, other minor appearances of other characters but these are the main ones, Pepper Potts, Loki (Marvel).

Additional tags: Loki/reader - Freeform, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluffyfest, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining a lot because we love to suffer, Domestic Avengers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a parental figure, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Everyone is a good bro, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, y/n, After Infinity War but no one died and the purple bitch was defeated, Missions, Y/N is a universe traveller, Grief, Therapy, Protective Loki (Marvel), Loki in love.

MASTERLIST OF THE STORY

Chapter 45: Voices. 

It had all started a few weeks ago. First it was a tiny whisper that, if she didn't listen closely, could be gone with the wind. Then it began being more loud, but still not enough. It was a week ago when she first heard it clearly. It was a little girl's voice calling her name. Was she going insane? Had she finally, after so many revelations of her life, lost it? No, she wasn't insane, she knew this, yet she couldn't bring herself to ask for help, scared that she would receive as a response that she had, in fact, gone crazy.

She was sitting on the couch of her room, her back against Loki's chest as they read quietly, when she heard it, clear as day. Astrid, a man's voice called. Astrid! He insisted.

“Okay, enough.” She said as she abruptly got up from her place.

“What is it, love?” He asked with concern in his eyes. Y/N shook her head.

“I can't tell you, you'll think I'm crazy.”

Loki got up from the couch and pulled her up with him, grabbing both her hands to lift them up to his mouth and kiss her knuckles softly.

“I would never think that about you.” She sighed. Taking in a deep breath, she said the next sentence in one breath.

“I have been hearing voices calling my name for weeks now and I think I lost it Loki.” She closed her eyes, she didn't want to see his expression of pity. But when she heard him laugh, she peeked one eye open to look at an amused god. “What is so funny? Is me going insane such a comedic situation for you?” She asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head “Darling, what you are hearing... are prayers.”

“What?”

“Come now, sit.” When she did he sat next to her on the couch and smiled softly at her. “You are a goddess, the goddess of strength and wisdom. People pray to you.”

“Do people pray to you?” She asked with adorable curiosity in her eyes.

“Sometimes, yes.”

“And can you make it stop, because I don't like how it makes me feel.” She said, suddenly choked up. He grabbed her hand and tugged it to pull her into his lap.

“You can't make it stop perse, but you can turn down the volume of the voices, put them in the back of your mind and only pay attention to them when you want to.”

“And how do I do that?”

“It is an easy spell one must cast,” he told her, standing up. “Come on, I will show you.”

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

“So if you don't have a phone I can just pray to you and you'll listen?” Wanda asked, amused.

“Hm, I hadn't thought about that…”

“I'm gonna go to the next room and pray to you!” Nat said, with childlike excitement. Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Alright, come on. Hit me with your best shot. Oh! And call me Astrid when you pray.” The redhead nodded and went while the witch and her stayed in silence to wait.

Suddenly, she heard it. Oh Astrid, goddess of strength and wisdom, please wash your plates after you use them.

“Hey! I wash the plates I use.” Nat appeared in the doorway.

“Yeah right.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes and then smiling.

“So, it worked!” Wanda said, clapping her hands. “That is so cool!” Y/N pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side.

“I guess it is…” She concluded, smiling.

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

“So, yeah. People are praying to me.” She told the Asgardian woman.

“That is exciting! I remember my first prayer.”

“Weren't you freaked out?” Sigyn shook her head.

“No, mother had taught me how to deal with them. It was like a passage to adulthood.”

“Huh, interesting.” She said, thoughtful. “Was she cool? I mean… How was she?”

“Mother?” Y/N nodded. “She was… good. Kind. Purely decent.”

“Hm, well, she was the goddess of knowledge, wisdom and courage.” The other one laughed.

“Yes, she would have gotten along pretty well with that America friend of yours…”

“Steve?” She asked, laughing and Sigyn nodded.

“Yes, Steve.”

For a while after that, they talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Y/N didn't dare think about it much, but the Asgardian felt less like a stranger and more like an old friend. Perhaps a long lost sister.  

~taglist~ @mischief2sarawr @midnights-ramblings @paetonnn @tohellwiththedevill

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Bloom // H.P.

Summary: Healing doesn't happen overnight. It’s a process that can take months, if not, years to come to terms with. It’s been five years since the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of the Second Wizarding War. Harry finally feels ready to confront feelings that have long been sat, growing unattended in the recesses of his mind and soul.

A/N: This was inspired by the made-up fic title that I did a few weeks ago. I got so stuck on this, I couldn't get any further, but inspiration somewhat struck and here we are. I know this is long, but I am so so proud of this, I would love some interaction with this. Take a chance, please.

Warnings: feelings of sadness, grief, worthlessness, more visits to graveyards, talks of death. This sounds dark, and parts are, but there is so much fluff and comfort and pining in this.

Word count: 9.4k

Harry’s Flat, London, England, October.

For the fourth night this week, sleep evades him. Deciding to surrender this particular battle, Harry sits up in bed and reaches for his glasses on the bedside table.

With clearer vision, he turns to the digital clock next to where he places his glasses. He hangs his head in his hands when he reads the time. not even two hours of sleep before he awoke; his mind unwilling to alleviate him long enough for him to fall into a dreamless sleep.

He supposes it could be a good thing, or at least, that’s what he tells himself as he throws the covers off his body and swings his legs out of bed. As he sits on the edge of his bed, Harry gives himself a moment.

He gives himself only a single moment to give into the tidal wave threatening to drown him. A single moment simply to feel everything before he packs it all away into corresponding drawers in his mind.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he plods into the living room and through to the kitchen. As he boils the kettle, he thinks of you and your ingrained belief that everything can be put to rights over a cup of tea.

Settling in the living room, he grabs the remotes for the television. Turning it on, he switches the volume to mute, not wanting loud noises, but rather the comfort of monotonous moving pictures. Harry cannot tell what the programme is; a muggle show dedicated to archaeology, he thinks, but he pays it little mind.

He runs a hand down his face; feeling the tiredness deep within his bones. The insomnia had started in the months after the end of the war; beginning with repetitive nightmares in which he would suffer through the deaths of his friends countless times before being awoken by the sounds of his own screams. From there, it shifted into a fear of sleep, a terror of closing his eyes and seeing Hermione’s or Ron’s lifeless bodies. He knows – he knows they are alive and well, but the fear remains.

He wonders how long he’ll continue to feel like this should do nothing; how long he will deal with the sleepless nights and the nightmares that greet him when he does close his eyes.

However, as he watches the soundless pictures play on the television, he cannot help but feel an urge to get better. To do better and to be better in all that he does. At the age of eighteen, he defeated the darkest wizard to have ever walked the earth in the last century. At the age of twenty three, five years later, he feels close to laughter that he has let his life come to this.

But no-one warned him of the aftermath of the war. No-one readied him for the feelings of guilt that twists his stomach; leaving him unable to eat. No-one explained to him just how long the nightmares would last; seeing the faces of those that fell at the battle of Hogwarts and before as he tries and tries to dream of happy things.

Harry’s bottom lip begins to wobble. The tears won’t fall. It’s been years, Harry thinks, since he had cried in earnest.

As Harry sits on his couch for the fourth night that week, he readies himself to start putting his life back together again.

The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, October.

The Burrow had always, to Harry at least, been a place full of happy memories. The home of the Weasley family physically exuded warmth and happiness. To put it bluntly, it was Harry’s safe haven; the place he could go where he would find no judgement for his state of sleeplessness or lack of appetite. He would catch Molly watching him worriedly, but she knew not to press, and for that, he was thankful. To appease her worries, or at least to lessen them slightly, he visits the Weasley matriarch once a week.

Immediately, Harry is wrapped up in hug after hug. Molly keeping her hands on Harry’s cheeks as she moves his head side to side, getting a good look at him. She clamps her lips together to keep the frown from forming on her face; worry rises in her gut, but she does not voice it.

The food cooking on the stove has Harry’s mouth watering as he walks through the kitchen to the large table in the dining area. There, he finds your eyes. They remain on the door as he walks through, as if you knew it wouldn’t be long before he entered.

“Mate,” Ron greets; pushing a drink into Harry’s hand. Harry nods at Ron, taking a swig of his drink before smiling at Hermione.

He moves to sit next to you; wanting nothing more than to sit by your side so he can tell his plan of which he came up with by himself. All around him conversation continues as if he had never walked in in the first place. He supposes that’s bit big-headed of him to think, but as he looks around those he classes as his family, he comes to realisation that they’ve all started to move on.

It hits him then and there; just how terrified he is of being left behind.

“How have you been?” You ask; voice gentle and caring as you lean into him.

Harry smiles at you; spooning vegetables onto his plate but feeling no pangs of hunger. “You just saw me last week,” Harry reminds in humour; his attempt at avoiding the twinges of fear ravaging his gut.

You roll your eyes, “That means it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. So, how have you been?”

Harry hears the meaning in your words; he hears the undercurrent of worry in your voice, and it only adds to the pit growing in his stomach. After his decision the other night, it was as if all the realisations hit him at once and he came to see just how much of a bad friend he had been to you all. He’d had been so caught up in his self-loathing that he failed to see just how much you were struggling with it all; he hadn’t even noticed that Ron and Hermione had also sought out help too.

Harry nods; reaching for his knife and fork, “I’ve been okay.”

Even he can hear the lie in his voice, and it makes him sick to his stomach. Thankfully, you don’t address it. You simply nod; patting his hand twice before turning your attention to your own meal.

Cutlery scrapes on plates as happy conversation lightens the atmosphere. It isn’t mentioned, but it is there – the absence of Fred’s laughter and his smile, the pointed comments, and his love for his mother. It is there, and it only adds to the guilt pooling in Harry’s stomach and invading his bloodstream.

It’s as if you sense it; as if you sense Harry starting to spiral, his thoughts turning to that dark place that he so often finds himself in. It’s as if you know; changing the hand in which your fork sits to free up your other hand so you can take Harry’s under the table and squeeze. A silent reminder if there is any.

I’m here, you remind him, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.

Harry squeezes back; unable to do or say anything else, meeting Arthur Weasley’s pained eyes from across the table, and beginning to wish that he had in fact done and said more.

At the age of eighteen years old, harry defeated the darkest wizard in a century. Yet, he had lost a friend he had classed as a brother, and now finds it hard to look Molly and Arthur in the eye.

There is a lapse in conversation and Harry slips his hand free of yours, needing to leave the room before the guilt he’s sitting in drowns him. He smiles apologetically at each Weasley, eyes lingering on the empty chair across from George and promptly leaves the room.

The night air is cold against Harry’s bare arms as he sits on one of the many benches littering the Weasley’s gardens. It’s so cold that his breath is coming out in white puffs, but he doesn’t feel the need to fetch his coat. In fact, he would rather feel the cold against his skin. It reminds him that he’s alive and that he’s breathing. It reminds him of those are who no longer living.

He stiffens at the sounds of footsteps behind him; his hand immediately reaching for his wand kept in his back pocket.

Harry relaxes somewhat when he realises it was you who followed him outside, and not Ron or Hermione. He doesn’t turn, but he smiles when he hears you swear quietly, having tripped on a rogue stone.

You sigh as you sit down on the bench next to him; rubbing at your sore knee.

“How are you not freezing?” You ask; rubbing at your clothed arms, not happy with the chill seeping through to your bones.

Harry releases a breath; it puffs white, “I don’t feel it.”

You raise an eyebrow; running a finger over his arm which is covered in goosebumps, “I beg to differ.”

Harry doesn’t reply; he flashes a smile your way before returning his attention to the night sky and all that he can see of what the Weasley’s own. For a few minutes, no words are spoken between you both. Sinking into a silence that could only be described as comfortable; he doesn’t feel the constant need to reassure you that he’s okay. You check in on him every now and then, but no true pestering takes place.

Truthfully, Harry basks in your attention. He rather likes the fact that you do make a fuss of him when you check in on him because he’s sure that without you, he would be doing a lot worse than the nightmares and insomnia.

Breaking the silence, you broach the subject of Harry’s health, “Harry, can I give you the name and number of my therapist? I’ve made real progress since working with her, and I think you will too.”

Harry smiles at you; feeling grateful for your help but feeling like an awful friend for shaking his head and declining your offer. “I just… I don’t feel ready yet to speak to someone.”

You nod your head, “I get that, but Harry, it’s been five years since the end of the war, and you know how I worry.”

He nods, letting the conversation collapse into nothing in front of him. This is the time, he realises, to tell you his plans for getting better that don’t involve divulging his deepest and darkest secrets to a stranger, even if they are a trained professional.

“I have a favour to ask you,” Harry prompts, “And I’ll understand if you say no.”

“If I can help you, Harry, I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t want to speak to anyone, not yet at least, but I do want to start moving on.”

“So what’s the favour?” You ask; your curiosity piqued with his mystery.

“I want to visit the places where things have happened, whether they’re good or bad. I want to go back, and I want to see them in a different light.”

“That,” You pause; thinking of your next words, “That sounds like a really good idea, Harry. Where do I come into it though?”

Harry smiles at you sheepishly; running a hand through his forever messy hair. “I want you to come with me,” He states as plain as day.

“What?”

“I’d like for you to come with me,” Harry amends, “I don’t think I can do this on my own.”

“What about Ron or Hermione? I’m sure they would help.”

Harry shakes his head, “They’re both so busy, and they’re starting their lives together. I don’t want to dredge up bad memories for either of them if I can help it.”

You sigh, picking at an invisible thread on your sleeve, “How were you thinking of doing this? I have to work too, you know. Not everyone can inherit a fortune, Potter.”

Harry blinks, letting your words settle before a small smile breaks across his face, “You’d come with me?”

“Harry,” You start, “I don’t think there was any chance of me saying no to you. If I can help you in any way, I can. I’m always here for you.”

The familiar burn of tears starts at the back of his throat. Harry has to avert his eyes; glancing up at the night sky as he swallows past the lump in his throat. He should have known you would say yes; you’ve been by his side for everything since Third Year, but the small voice in the back of his mind had him doubting whether you would.

“Thank you,” He whispers eventually.

“So,” You begin, “Where too first?”

Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, November.

Upon the untimely death of Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix had been passed down to Harry through Sirius’ will. Sirius had no children for the house to go to, but Harry was as good as.

Standing on a residential street in Islington, you watched as the house appeared as if from nowhere. Appearing amongst number eleven and number thirteen as if it had always been there; as if it was part of the furniture at this point.

Thick dust covers each and every surface. Simply opening the door sends a cloud of dust into your face; leaving you coughing and sneezing as Harry battles the enchantments placed upon the home after the death of Albus Dumbledore.

Turning your gaze to Harry, you could remember the last time you had stepped foot in the ancestral home of the house of Black. It hadn’t been long after Sirius’ death; Harry’s gut-wrenching screams still echoing in your ears as you had bundled him up in any blankets you could find and sat him down at the kitchen table.

He hadn’t spoken much; he hadn’t even cried. Instead, his face set in steely determination, his desperate need to avenger his godfather overriding any common sense. That night, instead of comforting him and drying his eyes, it had been argument after argument, trying to make Harry see sense.

It took hours; the both of you tired not only from the arguing but from the grief sitting on your shoulders. It took hours, but Harry eventually agreed with you, choosing to sit back and wait for the right moment instead of lunging headfirst into attack that would surely get him killed.

Memory after memory washes over you, dragging you into its grips. If the memories are this strong for you, it was not hard to imagine how it must be for Harry.

You focus your attention on him, watching him warily as he wanders further down the hallway, heading for the kitchen where you still expect to hear Sirius’ raucous laugh despite years having passed since his death.

“How are you feeling?” You ask; running a finger across the now clean surface of the kitchen table.

Harry releases a shuddering breath. “I thought,” He starts, “I thought by coming here it would help me come to terms with Sirius and what happened in the Department of Mysteries but being here simply makes me hate his family more.”

“What makes you say that?”

Harry gestures to the large room. “He hated being here. He despised being locked up in the house that he left at sixteen, but he wanted to help the Order, so he stayed here and let it be used as the headquarters.”

“That… That is a very noble thing to do,” You murmur, eyes fixed on the man in front of you, taking in his tight fists and clenched jaw.  

Harry laughs without humour, “The noble house of Black.”

Silence lapses and the tension in the room only increases. Biting your lip, you can only think that this was the wrong thing to do, that this is only pushing Harry further away instead of helping him come to terms with the last years of his life.

“We can leave, Harry,” You remind him, “We can leave right now and do this another day, when you’re more ready.”

He shakes his head, shaking himself out of his funk but also steadfastly refusing to go. He’s made this far; he’ll see it through to the end. He throws you a smile; it doesn’t reach his eyes and your heart cracks a little.

Holding a hand out to you, Harry states, “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

The room he enters is one he has told you about countless times; describing it with so much detail that as you enter the room behind him you feel as if you’ve already been inside.

It cannot be denied that the tapestry is nothing short of piece of art. It cannot be ignored that the depth of detail to the Black family tree is not breathtaking, but at the same time it is so utterly heartbreaking to see the scorch marks litter the walls. The consequence of turning against one’s own family, you think as you step further into the room, taking in its beauty but also its darkness.

“The noble house of Black,” Harry spits, gesturing to four walls, pointing at each scorch mark before settling on the one that once showed the portrait of his beloved godfather.

“He got out,” He states brokenly, “He left his blood family to live with his found family. He had a life ahead of him. He had my father, he had Remus. He had his family, and it was all taken away in one night. In one night, Sirius lost his best friend and then his freedom.

“And all I feel when I think about Sirius is anger. At how he was treated. He was good, (Y/N),” Harry states, his tone pleading, full of emotion, “He was good, and he was treated like shit. His real family didn’t care but his found family did and then he lost all of it.”

“He found you, Harry,” You remind him, “Sirius found you. You didn’t have half as long with him than what you should have, but he made sure to be involved in your life. After the Triwizard Tournament and you had come back with Cedric, Sirius would not leave your side in the hospital. I remember seeing him every morning and he would stay every night. He loved you, Harry – remember that.”

“And what did I do?” Harry laughs, “I got him killed. Some godson I am.”

“Harry, you are not to blame for Sirius’ death.”

He scoffs, disbelief and derision echoing off the walls. You stalk over the green eyed man, your determination growing with every step. You grab his face in both your hands, bringing his face to your level, “Listen to me, Potter. Are you listening?”

He nods, eyes wide and voice silent.

“Good,” You smirk before turning serious. “You are not to blame for Sirius’ death. He knew what was happening in the Department of Mysteries. He knew that there was a chance he was not going to come out of there alive and he still went in to find you, to protect you.”

“If I had paid more attention to what Voldemort showed me though… I could have figured out it was fake…”

You shake your head, “You were a sixteen year old boy, barely trained in occlumency and legilimency. You weren’t to know that what you had seen was fake. All you saw, Harry, was someone you care about being tortured. You acted on instinct.”

“Foolish instinct,” He argues.

You roll your eyes, “Not foolish at all. More brave than foolish.”

Harry remains silent; letting your words sink into his skin, binding them to his bones. It isn’t going to be as simple as one speech and all is forgiven, it is going to take time to forgive himself for the death of his godfather. There is always going to be an element of himself that believes strongly that he was the cause of Sirius’ death; if he hadn’t acted so rashly, if he had stopped to think things through, to go over exactly what Voldemort had shown him, Harry might have been able to delay Sirius’ death.

If, if, if.

If, if, if. He repeats that word; hindsight is a wonderful thing. If he had done this, if he had done that. Hindsight was going to be the death of him.

Harry focuses his attention back on you and the warmth of your hands on either side of his face. Gently, Harry places his hands on top of yours, “Can you let go of me now?”

You smile before pursing your lips, pretending to think through the answer. “I don’t know,” You ponder, “Are you going to continue to argue with me?”

“Probably,” Harry admits, “But I’m ready to go now.”

Harry lets his hands drop from yours, his eyes running over your face before stepping back. Your hands drop to your sides, clenching as if they wished to be touching him some more. His face feels cold now that you’ve let him go, as if all the warmth his body carried was in your hands.

“Do you think you’ll come back?” You ask, unable to help yourself.

Harry pauses, closing the door to the Black family tree behind him. He looks up and down the hallway; thinking of the memories he has cherished over the years. He had Sirius in his life for far shorted than he deserved, but he had Grimmauld Place to help him discover the man he idolised.

Meeting your stare, he nods. “I think I will eventually.”

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scottish Highlands, December.

It didn’t matter how long it had been since your last visit; it didn’t matter how long it had been since you roamed the corridors of the place you once considered your second home, seeing Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry rise out of the Scottish Highlands would never be something you could get used to.

From your spot in Hogsmeade, you can just make out the turrets of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers. Slight unease spreads through your chest as you think back to the last time you had been at the school; still a student, hurling curses and jinxes at any Death Eater that happened by you.

Reflexively, you curl your hands into fists, your fingernails biting into the soft flesh of your palms. You gasp slightly as the pain; your mind becoming clearer and your focus becoming sharper. Harry’s hand takes yours; unfurling your fingers and replacing them with him, tangling your hands together.

“(Y/N), are you okay?”

You take a deep breath; mentally working through the exercises given to you by your therapist,. Shakily, you smile at Harry, “I’m okay, Harry, don’t worry about me. How are you feeling?”

His eyebrows furrow as he squeezes your hand. “I’ll always worry about you,” He says gently before continuing, “I’ll be okay though. I have you.”

You smile weakly; letting yourself be led through the well-worn path from Hogsmeade to the school. Small conversation is made; Harry bringing up happier memories of your education at the magical castle. The time when Ron received a Howler from his mother; the time when Hermione punched Draco Malfoy in the face.

Happier times now turned to memories; each one tinted with age.

Hogwarts soon looms in front of you both. Harry’s hand tightens on yours, fingers squeezing to the point of cutting off blood flow as he leads you into the grounds of the school.

It feels like coming home, but it also feels like facing your worst enemy. The Battle of Hogwarts had been hard on everyone who found themselves there; it had been hard for students and teachers. You would never forget the screams and the sound of breaking stone. It would be a long while until the sight of dead bodies could be scrubbed from your mind.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall greets from the stairs; voice warm and fond, “To what do we the pleasure of this visit with Miss (Y/L/N)?”

“I was hoping to walk the school and its grounds for a bit, Professor. If you don’t mind, that is. I’m trying to get better,” Harry states; sincerity ringing in his voice so much so that even McGonagall looked to be taken aback by his words.

She nods; finding her voice but needing to clear her throat first of all the emotion he had brought up, “Of course, Potter. Take as long as you need.”

Harry smiles at the beloved Professor gratefully, stretching out a hand towards you. You take it, resisting the urge to tangle your fingers together as Harry leads you to the Great Hall. “Where do you want to start?” You ask; eyes scanning the familiar walls, lingering on the Gryffindor table.

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, sounding lost as his eyes dance around the repaired room.

“It’s strange for me too,” You whisper, voice loud in the cavernous hall.

“It was entirely destroyed,” Harry recalls, sweeping his gaze over the large wall of windows by the Ravenclaw table.

You hope up on the closest table, crossing your legs as you watch Harry work through it all in his mind. He hadn’t been in the hall too long, but even that was long enough to have to branded into your memories.

“The tables were pushed back against the wall,” He states, gesturing to both walls before sweeping his hands above the floor, “And bodies were laid out on the floor, resting on blankets and towels,” Harry turns towards the staff table, pointing to a flagstone just in front of it, “That was where Fred laid – Molly and George crying over his body,” Harry spins, his finger now pointing back in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, “Remus and Tonks rested there. Teddy, my Godson, now an orphan… like me.”

“So many lives lost,” He whispers brokenly; eyes lined with tears that won’t fall, no matter how sad or broken he feels.

You slip off the table, going to his side and clutching his hand. “We lost a lot that day,” You whisper, “There isn’t a person here who doesn’t feel that same loss, Harry.”

“I was terrified of finding you laid out in the Great Hall,” Harry admits though not for his own good; he’s coming too close to admitting his feelings for you, but this is something he had never told a living soul, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to tell you.

“What?” You ask, all thoughts emptying out of your head as you focus on Harry entirely.

“I was terrified of finding you in the Great Hall. I was so scared that I even hesitated at the door, wondering whether to walk in or walk away. I have dealt with a lot, and will continue to deal with a lot, but if there is one thing I cannot cope with the idea of, it is you hurt or worse,” He takes a deep breath, “The Battle of Hogwarts brought that out of me.”

“I’m here, Harry,” You reassure, “I’m here and I’m whole.”

“I know that now, but then I didn’t and even thinking of it drives me close to madness.”

“I wouldn’t leave without saying anything,” You laugh, “You know that Harry.”

Harry laughs, but there’s no heart to it. “I have you now, that’s something.”

Your heart skips a beat; thudding in your chest so loud you believe that it is entirely possible that Harry could hear it pounding away in your chest. You lean in, hiding your face in Harry’s shoulder – a rare moment of tenderness from both of you. Harry’s hand slips from yours to wrap around your waist, holding you to his body.

Hiding your smile in Harry’s shoulder, you murmur as loud as you dare, “You have me now, Harry. You have me forever.”

Neither of you make it further around the grounds of the castle; sticking to its interiors, wandering the corridors when students are firmly placed in classrooms, not wanting to be a distraction to their education.

Harry’s words continue to play through your mind; how he would not be able to cope if he lost you too. It makes this all more important for you, helping him come to terms with what he has experienced in such a short amount of time.

However, a small part of you rejoices in his admission, the words echoing in your head with a hint of hope. A hope that Harry may feel the same as you after all.

Hogwarts is left with a wave to McGonagall and a promise to write soon. Harry’s muscles relax the further he gets from the castle; the tension leeching away as he breathes in fresh air and Hogsmeade comes into view. He adored Hogwarts; it was his home, but he had to admit that it would be a while before he could face the whole castle without wanting to scream at the walls.

It’s a start however, Harry thinks as he grabs your hands and apparates the two of you back to his flat. It’s a start, he thinks, and now for the rest of it.

Little Hangleton, England, January.

Little Hangleton resides six miles from its paired village Great Hangleton. Little Hangleton was very much a village that was powered through gossip; the rumour mill only grew upon the deaths of the Riddle family. By the time an arrest had been made, the town had become judge, jury and executioner – sentencing poor Frank Bryce to a life of social exclusion even after being proven innocent.

Little Hangleton is made up of one main high street; five or six shops with a pub near the middle. It has a small village green where the local cricket team likes to practice every Saturday morning. It isn’t an extraordinary village; plain in comparison to other dwellings, but it’s history with the Riddle family would go down in wizarding lore until the end of days.

Harry continues to hold onto your hand long after you apparate into the village, landing in side street rather than in the high street as not to attract too much attention from the villagers. You refuse to be the first to let go; admitting to yourself that you rather like the way his hands fits in yours, how it feels like a steady anchor holding you in place.

Taking one look at the dark haired man next to you, you knew in your gut that this was going to be a hard day for him. Harry doesn’t talk about his nightmares often, but form what he has told you, this picturesque village features enough that you can see the tension line Harry’s jawline.

Nudging his shoulder, you smile softly, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Harry’s hand tightens on yours. He doesn’t reply verbally; nods his head and focuses on finding his destination. He can’t verbalise his gratefulness; he cannot put it into words just what this means to him because Harry is fairly certain there are no words to cover the scope of what he feels for you in this very moment.

He knew he was asking a lot of you to keep doing this; to visit these places and relive his darkest times with him. He knew it affected you more than you admitted, but he still was selfishly grateful you choose to come every time.

He thinks that he wouldn’t have been as half as productive with his feelings if it wasn’t for you. Harry’s feelings for you only having grown through these visits; he remains in awe of you, as he always has been, but now he can no longer deny himself the depth of his love for you. To deny himself that would be a grievous crime.

However, even Harry is aware that he is nowhere ready to confront the idea of a relationship. In the last few months, he has only been able to accept that Sirius’ death and your injuries at the Battle of Hogwarts were not his fault.

He has to keep working on himself; he has to keep healing so he can be worthy of a love like his parents had.

So for now, Harry is more than content to hold your hand with each apparition, to savour the way your hand fits in his perfectly and how each squeeze of your fingers sets his heart racing.

For now, Harry is happy to remain in the throes of puppy love, but still eager for the day when he can proclaim his love for you in the hopes that you feel the same.

Such thoughts are thrown out of his head when his eyes catch the sign for graveyard. His steps falter, before coming to a brief stop by the sign. Your free hand touches his arm and Harry turns to you, seeing the question reflected in your eyes.

“Are you ready?” He asks, voicing the unspoken question.

You nod, “Ready when you are.”

The graveyard looks just as it did all those years ago; dark and miserable.

You shiver as Harry pushes open the creaky metal gate. He holds the gate open for you out of politeness, but he does not return your smile of gratitude. Harry keeps his facial expression neutral as he turns to face the memories that still plague him all these years later.

His eyes run over the gravestones as he puts one wary foot in front of the other. You follow behind him timidly, footsteps slower as you too read over the names written in marble, granite, limestone.

It doesn’t take long to find the place. Harry’s feet take him there automatically despite the fact that the last time he was here, he had been apparated in and did not walk out.

The Reaper stands proudly among the gravestones; his scythe crossed against his body in readiness. Harry stills, coming to a stop in front of it. He tilts his face; staring into the faceless stone hood of the figure that had him trapped like prey all those years ago.

Harry doesn’t turn from the figure as he points directly behind him. “That is where he killed Cedric,” He states bluntly, hearing the thud the Hufflepuff’s body made as he landed lifeless at Harry’s side.

Your eyes leave Harry; body tensing as you make eye contact with the patch of grass that would be the last thing to touch Cedric’s body.

Harry finally turns; gaining control of the anger and upset that had been raging in his body since landing at the graveyard gates. He needs to approach this carefully; he needs to approach all of this carefully, so he doesn’t fall back into the dark pit he found himself in months ago.

Harry gestures to the centre of the small copse and then to the Reaper, “That is where I had to watch as Voldemort rose again.”

“Oh Harry…” You whisper, voice breaking as you say his name.

Harry’s eyes shutter closed, and his bottom lip begins to wobble. He had been fourteen years old; he had not had his first kiss and yet, he had to duel the darkest wizard to have been produced in a century.

“I thought I was going to die that night,” He confesses after a moment; opening his eyes to once again focus on the faceless depiction of Death himself. “I thought I was going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

Resolve steels your nerves and once again, your feet find their way to Harry.

“You did make it out, Harry. You made it out alive.”

“Two of us went in, (Y/N).”

“It can’t be ignored,” You start, “Cedric’s death was an utter tragedy; completely unexpected and blindsided everyone in the school, but you cannot blame yourself for this, Harry. Cedric died at the hands of a madman – not you.”

“I could have done something!” He screams, finally losing all grip on his temper, “I should have done something. Instead, as Wormtail murdered Cedric, all I did was shout his name as if it was going to help. I did nothing, I as good as murdered him.”

Breath leaves your body in one fell swoop; you had never seen Harry like this. He runs both hands through his hair in frustration as he tries to get a hold on his temper, reigning it in. You remain silent as Harry works to control himself; you watch him pace the small copse, flattening the green grass under his feet.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers, breaking the silence, “I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

“Harry,” You sigh, “I am more than capable of handling you shouting at me.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong though, and I just take everything out on you.”

You laugh, short and sweet, “I think this is the first time you’ve ever shouted at me, Potter.”

He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I try not to make a habit of shouting at my friends,” Harry states, throwing you a look that states the obvious.

Wringing your hands together, you brace yourself for your next words. Meeting Harry’s stare, fixing your gaze on him, you politely demand, “Tell me more about that night, Harry.”

So he does.

It comes rushing out of him in a torrent; words flying so fast that his speech gets muddled up and he sometimes has to say his sentences again. For so long he has been holding this in; there are very few people who know what happened that night in this very graveyard and out of those, many are dead or imprisoned so Harry has been left to deal with the pain.

It feels like a confession. It feels as if he is seeking forgiveness from his crimes; seeking repentance from a priest of his choosing because he needs to get it out, he needs to know whether penance is possible for the sins committed that night.

Harry feels as if a weight is being lifted off his chest as he tells you about duelling Voldemort and the spell that had taken place beforehand. Harry seeks solace in your comforting gaze and reassuring smile as his voice breaks when he speaks of his parents, not having seen them in any physical form since that night with the Mirror of Erised.

Once he starts, he finds it hard to stop. He stutters over his feelings over Cedric’s death, pausing once in a while to let you interject a thought and for the first time since starting this exercise, since asking you to come along with him, Harry feels as if it is starting to work.

Eventually, his voice falls quiet as does his mind.

“How do you feel?” You ask; an expected question that accompanies each location visited.

Harry nods, “Better. Happy to have finally said what happened that night.”

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell you.”

“I trust you with my life,” He states honestly and plainly.

You bite your lip, averting your gaze to wander across the dark graveyard once more before finally turning to face Harry. “Are you ready?”

Harry nods: more than happy to leave this place and never return. What happened in Little Hangleton will always remain a heartbreaking tragedy; a life cruelly taken before it even got the chance to begin. The village would always be stained with such misfortune, but now, Harry feels that part of his life come to a close.  

As Harry reaches for your hand, readying himself to apparate you back to your flat, his heart soars at the words you utter with conviction.

“You’re a good man, Harry.”

--------

Landing back at his flat, Harry takes a seat on his couch and hangs in his head in his hands. He had dropped you off at your flat; needing to be alone to deal with the emotions that had been threatening to suffocate him from the inside out. Whilst Harry had accepted that he played no part in Cedric’s death, he still had to confront the magnitude of what had happened to himself.

It hits him all at once; the scale of what he had been through throughout his education. From the ages of eleven to eighteen, Harry hadn’t seen a school year through without injury or battle. It’s as he sits there that he realises the extent to which he was used by the headmaster he looked up to; used as a pawn to further the game of chess being played by Dumbledore and Voldemort.

The waves never cease; his parents, Sirius, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, and Cedric.

No tears fall; he isn’t sure he has the capacity to cry anymore. Tears haven’t fallen since they fell out relief for the end of the war, but out of sadness for the deaths of Fred, Remus, and Tonks.

Sitting on his couch, shivers overtake his body. His teeth chattering as he reaches for the blanket kept across the back of his couch, wrapping it around his shoulders. Harry bites back the scream that is slowly crawling up his throat; he pushes it down as he fights for control of his mind.

Collecting his thoughts, Harry comes to a conclusion.

He needs to return to where it all began.

Godric’s Hollow, West Country, England, March.

Spring blooms real and true, and Harry feels ready enough to return to Godric’s Hollow. Harry could count on one hand how many times he has stepped foot in the village his parents once called home. He had been born in Godric’s Hollow; at the end of July to two loving parents who adored him just as much as they adored each other.

Out of respect for James and Lily Potter – murdered at the age of twenty-one – the house in which they lived had never been repaired. The thatched roof remains caved in; a large hole in the middle of it, letting the elements now batter the house.

It had been twenty-two years since Harry had stepped foot inside the house he was born in. It had been five years since he stood outside of it with Hermione; only beginning to feel the grief for the parents he never truly knew.

It was this that had plagued Harry from the moment he turned eleven and arrived at Hogwarts. How does he grieve for those he never truly knew?

As crass as it is to say, Harry didn’t know his parents outside his need for food, comfort, and love. The memories of his mother and father are so clouded; he can no longer tell whether they are his own or whether he’s simply simulated a story told to him by family friends.

He was fifteen months old when they were murdered. He was fifteen months old and barely aware of his own shadow.

Whilst he hadn’t visited the house much – it being too painful to see the sight of his parent’s murder – he had visited their graves in the years that have passed.

With you in tow, Harry leads you down the worn, familiar path. He slows his pace every now and then; warning you of an upcoming dip that may make you lose your balance.

All too soon, however, you stand in front of the grave of James and Lily Potter.

Quietly, he asks, “How do I grieve my parents when I never knew them?”

Your heart breaks for him; unable to stop yourself, you wrap an arm around his waist offering any form of comfort you can. Shakily, you answer, “I guess you can mourn what could have been or you grieve the fact that they were so young. Either way, Harry, they’re never going to leave you.”

“I know that,” He whispers; gaze fixed on the grave of his parents, “All I know of them is what I’ve been told. I feel as if my memories have been tainted, and I know that they all mean well, but sometimes-”

He cuts himself off with a huff; kneeling down and drawing out his wand. Silently, Harry conjures a bouquet of Orchids, Chrysanthemums and Lilies and then bows his head in silent prayer, continuing to grieve the parents he would never know.

You place your hand on his shoulder, “Sometimes you what, Harry?”

He sighs, “Sometimes I wish they would stop. I was so young when they died – any memories I have of them are practically gone but sometimes I have these flashes. I have no idea whether they’re real or not, but I feel as if they are. Yet, when friends tell me stories of what it was like to go to school with them or to fight alongside them, it’s like they’re pushing they’re version of James and Lily Potter onto me. Does that make sense?”

Squeezing his shoulder, you answer, “It makes perfect sense. The James and Lily you knew is different from what Sirius knew or what McGonagall knew.”

“I just worry that the more stories I hear, the quicker I lose what I know of them.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, Harry.”

“You don’t?” He asks, shifting to his feet and facing you.

You shake your head, “I don’t. I think you’re going to remember your parents for the rest of your life; their morals and values make up yours, Harry. You might not think, but you are a lot more like them than you realise.”

Harry bows his head, feeling the familiar burn of tears at the back of his throat. He clamps his mouth shut, begging the feeling to go away. Quietly, almost ashamedly, Harry asks, “Do you think they would be proud of me?”

Then and there, your heart breaks, cleaving itself in two for the man standing before you. It’s the only dream of a child; to make their parents proud, but what about children who do not have parents – who grew up in a home that did not cherish them like it should have?

Silver lines your eyes; tears threatening to make an appearance as you reach for Harry’s hands, pulling him into a hug. Against his shoulder, you state with conviction, “They would be extremely proud of you, Harry. So proud of you it would shine out of them.”

Harry sniffles; ducking down somewhat to tuck his head against your neck, hiding his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. From the outside, it looks as if two lovers are embracing, unable to keep their hands off the other for too long. However, you know that Harry is trying his best to maintain his composure, to try and gets to grips with the emotions that follow never knowing the ones who were supposed to raise you.

Minutes pass and neither of you move; neither of you willing to be the one to break this moment, but for the day to progress, you need to step away from the only man you have ever loved.

Releasing Harry, you send what you hope is a reassuring smile in his direction, “Come on, Harry,” You prompt, “Show me the rest of Godric’s Hollow?”

Framing it as a question, you offer Harry the choice. He is in control of this moment; h can choose whether he shows you the rest of the wizarding village or whether the two of you apparate back to his flat and spend the rest of the day mooching about.

Harry smiles: it’s watery, but fixed as he nods, stepping around you to lead you out of the graveyard.

Hands brush every now and then as the both of you wander back to the high street. A simple brush of hands, a simple twitch of fingers and your heart would start to race, practically shouting for Harry to take your hand and tangle your fingers together.

“I think I’m going to live here,” Harry murmurs; eyes scanning the high street.

“Are you sure?” You ask; worried not only for the fact that you may miss him while you remain in London, but also for any potential setback this may cause him.

Harry nods; his eyes now focused on a small café straight across the road from where you stand. He gestures towards it with an open hand, “Let me explain over some food.”

The bell above the door tinkles as you follow Harry inside. He chooses a table on the left hand side of the shop; sitting at the seat that faces the window and the door. It’s with stark realisation that you come to see that he’s chosen this exact spot so he can have eyes on each entrance and exit point.

You sigh as you sit across from him; old habits die hard, you guess.

Menus are placed in front of you by a teenaged witch looking as if she would rather be anywhere else but here. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in Harry’s form; the menu in her hand shaking as she places it down before him.

You bite your lip to repress the ever-growing smile on your face as you watch the waitress grow flustered under Harry’s smile and green eyes. She walks away in a daze after having taken your drink orders – coffee for Harry, Yorkshire Tea for you.

You shake your head fondly at the young witches departing figure; noting how she bumps into numerous tables before making it safely to the kitchen. Harry follows your gaze, wanting to know what’s taken your attention from him, “What is it?”

You shift your gaze back to the wizard, “You still don’t see the effect you have on people, do you?”

Harry frowns; his hand reaching up to touch his forehead self-consciously. He had grown his hair longer in order to cover the scar that mars the centre of his forehead; his black hair now fell around his head in curls he didn’t know he had until you had found an old picture of his father. The glasses and the curls along with the smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts; he was the spit image of his father.

“Not your scar, Harry, nor your name. I meant how you look; you have to know you’re handsome.”

Blush paints Harry’s cheeks as your words settle. The last thing he expected from today was to be told he was attractive; least of all, from you. He’s never had the chance before; to act upon his feelings for you. He realised just what he felt for you at the end of Sixth Year, and then the war happened, and he absolutely refused to let anything happen to you. He couldn’t tell you his feelings for you should it put a target on your back, and if anything happened to you, he would never forgive himself.

He laughs, shaking his head, “You’re a flatterer.”

You hold your hands up in playful surrender, “Only speaking the truth. You’ll see it one day.”

“One day,” He promises; eyes earnest as they gaze into yours.

It’s too much; just like that, it’s too much and you have to avert your stare before you end up blurting your inner most thoughts and scaring him away for good. Clearing your throat, you wait for the teenage waitress to place your drinks in front of you before you change the subject, “Why do you want to move here?”

Harry shrugs, picking up his coffee and taking a long drink, thinking over his words. “I think,” He begins, “I want to be close to them, but I also want to start carving out my life properly and this place is so peaceful. It’s so peaceful and it’s beautiful. I think it’s one of those places that if I don’t move here now, I’ll still move later on.”

You nod, “I get that. It is gorgeous here.”

Harry hums, “I’d still be in London every week.”

“You’d commute?” You ask, puzzled in terms of train schedules.

Harry barks out a laugh that turns into silent shaking of his shoulders as the teenage waitress returns, her pad in hand as she waits for your food order. Harry continues to repress his laughter throughout his order. As the waitress walks away, you fix Harry with an unimpressed stare. “Are you going to let me in on the joke?”

Harry smiles at you; as in, he really smiles at you. He beams as he whispers somewhat in awe, “I love you. You’re one of the smartest witches I know, and you still forget about the fact that we can apparate.”

You reel back in your chair, knees knocking into the table as the air leaves your body in a single breath. “What? What did you say first?”

Harry’s smile, if possible, grows as he shrugs his shoulders, “I love you.”

“Since when?” You demand, wondering how on earth he could discuss something as important as this as nonchalantly as one would discuss the weather.

“Sixth Year,” He confesses, blush beginning to paint his cheeks.

“That long?” You ask, voice hushed, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Harry finally frowns, finger tracing the lip of his coffee cup, “There was a war, and then I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.”

Of course he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to confess his love for you, you admonish yourself. He had defeated the Dark lord and then had to cope with the survival guilt for years. It had only been in the last year that he finally let himself let go of the guilt surrounding the casualties of war.

“I love you too,” You admit, chewing on the inside of your cheek from nerves.

“You do?” Harry asks, about as breathless as you were when he confessed only moments ago.

“I do,” You confirm, smiling.

It isn’t much in the way of confessions, but the look on Harry’s face says it all. His green eyes remain bright and the smile wide on his face even as the waitress returns with your food. He looks as if no wrong could be done in that moment; the food could be the worst he has ever eaten but it wouldn’t matter.

You love him.

You love him as he loves you, and suddenly it all makes sense. His motivations through the war; not only wanting to rid the world of Voldemort but wanting to secure a safe future in which he can love you.

The food is eaten quickly; the both of you rushing to make it outside where you can talk more, and in private.

The bill is paid. The waitress wanders back to the till; stunned at the sight of Harry’s smile – and you couldn’t blame her.

Harry stands from his seat, reaching for his jacket and waiting patiently for you. Electricity thrums between you; holding promises of more to come, the headiness of it having you gripping the table tightly as you rise to your feet. One look at Harry’s face and you know he’s feeling it too.

Pausing outside the small café, you hold your hand out for Harry to take.

A soft breeze blows through Godric’s Hollow, disturbing your hair and the trees around you. Harry holds onto your hand tightly as the both of you begin to wander down the high street; the blossoms of the trees fluttering around you as they fall to the floor. Harry inhales deeply; the floral of the blossoms mixed with the sweetness of your perfume providing the perfect backdrop to his future.

Harry’s Flat, London, England, September.

Healing is a process. It is neither quick nor slow; it follows its own pace.

Through this process, Harry has realised that he is in fact getting better. He has his bad days; days where he seldom leaves his bedroom and refuses to stare at anything but the wall.

However, those days are becoming scarcer. Harry can sometimes go weeks before he has an episode that leaves him bedbound, and for that, he is proud of himself.

He doesn’t do it alone; he has you by his side through it all as you both prepare for the move to Godric’s Hollow. For both the good and the bad days.

********

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[andypantsx3]

say the word and you know i’ll follow

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 3,262 words

summary: While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

(A smutty oneshot sequel to my fic if i could keep cool.)

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, smut

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, cunnilingus, light bondage

notes: Also cross-posted on my AO3! The manga really has me all in my Todo feels rn but I don't wanna write a whole other fic before I finish the Hawks one, so please have this fluffy smutty one shot as a compromise. It likely won’t make sense unless you’ve read if i could keep cool first, so please check it out if you have the time!

It was sweltering when you stepped outside to make your way to Shouto’s apartment.

A thin film of sweat immediately began to build wherever your skin pressed against the box you carried, and the sun beat down furiously on the crown of your head. You instantly started to second guess your choice to take the train, wondering how dumb of a move it had been to decline an alternative means of transit. It was going to be like being packed into a sardine can and roasted over a hot stove.

Shouto had offered to send an agency car, but there were only so many more times you were going to make the trip from your crumbling student apartment to his place, and you had wanted to make the most of it. You didn’t even really need to bring boxes over just yet--as Shouto had hired a moving company to take care of everything next week--but you didn’t want to lose anything that was inside this one. This one held all your most treasured items--keepsakes from your friends, a pressed white tulip, and all the gifts Shouto had ever given you (minus, of course, the vegetables).

Steeling yourself for an uncomfortable twenty minutes, you set off towards the station, weaving through the tired crowds of people who looked just as sun-weary as you. Thankfully, with a hat over your face and a box you could shift to obscure your features, very few people seemed to recognize you as you did so.

A lot of the media attention surrounding your mishap a year ago had died down, and you had been good about keeping your relationship mostly private, so you weren’t exactly a household name to most people. But there were enough twitter-savvy teens and meme-literate college students that you were sometimes recognized as you went about your daily life.

This time, you were only eyed curiously by one pair of teenage girls as they bundled into the train car across from you, but they didn’t say anything to you, didn’t ask you to reenact the most embarrassing five seconds of your entire life into their phones, as many often did. The box hid you from the rest of the train car, and no one else seemed to take interest in your presence.

After exiting the train at downtown, you made it to Shouto’s building in record time, all but rocket-fueled by your desire to get out of the hot sun. The security team in the lobby of his building gave you friendly nods as you passed, one of them graciously pressing the button for the elevator so you didn’t have to fumble around your box.

You thanked her, making your way into the elevator and elbowing the button for Shouto’s floor. The elevator was even cooler than the lobby, and you shivered in delight as the frigid chill of air conditioning washed over you. God, this building was so fucking nice compared to yours. You were going to be spoiled as fuck once you lived here.

You made it to Shouto’s floor without incident, though digging in your bag for your keys was impossible at the moment, so you knocked on his door as firmly as you could manage with the box still balanced in your arms.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the door swung open and Shouto stood there, grinning at you.

His hair still looked a little damp from a recent shower, and he was wearing a dark button up over a soft tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He looked unbearably good, as boyishly handsome as ever, and your heart gave an embarrassing little stutter, like it always did whenever you saw him. You suspected it was always going to be like that, no matter how long the two of you had been dating.

Shouto’s eyebrows went up as he considered the box in your arms. That heterochromatic gaze picked over you curiously, expression going carefully blank, like it typically did when he was up to some mischief. And then, after a long moment, he spoke.

“You’re not wearing the scarf,” he said, sounding upset.

You stared up at him, feeling your brow wrinkle. The scarf? It was fucking summer, and the scarf was neatly tucked away in the box you were holding. It was literally boiling hot just outside the well-air conditioned hallways of his building. Why on earth did he think you would be wearing--

You inhaled a little sharply when the answer hit you.

The scarf.

The scarf was the first thing he had mentioned the day he had finally confessed to you. Well, after you had confessed first, really, on national television earlier that week, that you were thirsty as hell for him and were also really bad at picking up subtle clues. Or overt clues. Or any clues, honestly.

But now you were standing in his hallway with a box again, and he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time you had done so.

You wracked your brain for what you had said to him in reply that day, trying to hone in on the words past the sudden swell of embarrassment.

“Uh, it’s in here,” you finally replied, gesturing to the box.

That grey and blue gaze dropped to the parcel in your arms, then flickered up to your face. You pushed the box at him, the way you had the day he’d confessed, feeling just as squirmish as you had then.

What else had you said to him? Something very watery and over dramatic, likely. Something like...

“It’s all, um, there--if you wanted to check,” you said. “Except for the vegetables obviously. But I can pay you back, if you give me a couple months.”

Shouto was clearly suppressing a smirk as he feigned curiosity. “Pay me….what?”

You suppressed your own absurd laugh, wondering how far down mortifying memory lane he wanted to go.

“I also wrote down a recommendation for a new cleaning lady, if you want,” you said, patting the top of the box. “It’s in there. Her name’s Mika, she’s super nice. And I can message you or your manager when I have the money. Just let me know which one you’d prefer. Or I can have Mika drop it off.”

Shouto gripped the box, then, long, elegant fingers pulling back the flaps for him to peer inside. He looked absolutely delighted to find the scarf actually within. In one fluid movement, he pulled the scarf out, depositing the box behind him, and turned back to grab your sleeve, pulling you quickly into the apartment with him.

“Okay, what are you doing with the scarf this time?” you laughed, breaking character.

One white eyebrow went up as Shouto gripped your wrist firmly, eyeing you closely as he pulled off your baseball cap.

“Mm,” he hummed absently in his deep tone. “Something I should have done the first time.” He caught your other wrist, pressing it into the sinfully soft fabric of your favorite accessory.

You looked at him, bewildered, feeling your mouth twist into a slight frown. You rather liked the way things had gone the first time around, considering that you had ended up with a boyfriend at the end of it all. What was his bone to pick with the first time around?

“Uh, if I’m recalling correctly, the first time went great,” you said to him. “Like, really really great. Christening your countertops several different times great.”

There was a flash of white teeth as Shouto grinned.

“Ah, but I missed an opportunity,” he said. A soft sensation slid over your other wrist, and you looked down in confusion.

Then it hit you what he was up to, and your face instantly went up in flames.

A firm tug had your wrists knotted together, and Shouto smirked down at you, tugging you closer by the silky fabric of your scarf. Your stomach swooped at the intent look in his eye.

“I had been upset you weren’t wearing the scarf,” he said. “But there was an easy way to fix that.”

You swallowed heavily, your tongue feeling strangely thick. Your brain was suddenly, but predictably, very very empty.

“Y-yeah. But technically you, um. You did fix it,” you babbled helplessly, limbs growing shivery with static as Shouto pressed closer. He was so warm, and he was so stupidly handsome.

“I’ve, uh, worn it a lot since,” you managed.

Shouto considered you quietly, a familiar, wry little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth.

Before you’d started dating, you’d been confused as hell by that expression, suspecting it meant he was bewildered by your very existence but was too polite to say so. After just over a year together, however, you had learned that was just what his face did when he thought you were being unreasonably appealing. Which, mystifyingly, was mostly when the working part of your brain disconnected from your mouth.

You scrounged around for other coherent words, thoughts thick and sluggish, like you were thinking through pudding.

Shouto, however, was merciful, putting an end to your suffering by leaning down and taking your mouth with his.

All the coherent thought you’d managed to dredge up melted away like frost under the morning sun. You pressed yourself closer to him, leaning up to give him better access to your mouth. Shouto kissed you as stupid as he always did before a hot hand came up to cup your face, thumb sliding over your cheek affectionately.

“It seems I’ve got you in the scarf as I had wanted,” Shouto said quietly, once he let you up for air. “But now I find that the scarf is all I want you in.”

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you might have said was as much a mystery to you as anyone. But all that managed to come out was a choked, breathy little noise.

Shouto laughed.

Then there were large hands on your waist, and the next thing you knew, you were staring down at the wood paneling of Shouto’s floor as it moved underneath you. Shouto adjusted you over his shoulder briefly, and then he was charting a brisk course to his bedroom, depositing you like an errant pillow back onto his sheets.

Your cheeks burned as he crawled over you, gaze hot and searching.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

You nodded vehemently, eyes pulled to the little flat sliver of his abs where his shirt had ridden up.

“Good, yeah, I’m so good,” you managed to garble out. You were going to be so embarrassed about this later, but as usual when it came to him, you really couldn’t help it. If you’d learned anything in the year you’d been together, it was that you would always have the world’s fattest crush on Shouto Todoroki.

Strong fingers came up to grasp your chin, tipping your face up for another searing kiss. You managed to loop your bound arms over the back of Shouto’s neck, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and pulling him down to you more firmly.

Shouto flattened himself against you, so that you could feel every strong plane of his body, every hard muscle. You shuddered, and you could feel Shouto smirk against your mouth.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, hands pulling at your shirt. You wiggled so that he could pull it out from under you, sliding it up to rest just below the scarf. In the next second he’d also gotten you out of your pants, so that you were mostly bare to him in the cool apartment air.

Shouto looked you over for a moment, looking like he still couldn’t believe you existed. “Having you over the countertops was something that I wouldn’t change. Something that I won’t change, once you move in.”

Your face went hot and you squirmed underneath him.

“However,” he said softly, “I believe I would have liked to have been more deliberate with you. Taken my time with you,” he paused. “Perhaps...I might have made you come once for every photo of me on your twitter.”

The tips of your ears went hot. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t be serious.

You had deleted that twitter over a year ago, and though he’d apparently been allowed access to the contents by his manager (rude) there was absolutely no way he could remember how many pictures of him you’d retweeted. You’d been the one doing the retweeting, and even you didn’t remember, though you thought the number was probably embarrassingly high.

“There was like, one,” you squeaked out.

Shouto’s smile went dark and he leaned over you, his perfect, infuriating mouth so close he might have kissed you again.

“Thirteen,” he said, mouth brushing yours as he spoke. “There were thirteen photos of me on your twitter. All while you tried so hard to act like you didn’t want me, that you wanted to be just friends.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to be my friend,” you protested. You jerked when his hand slid up your side to cup a breast, thumb slipping under the band of your bra.

“You weren’t accepting my gifts,” he said, fingers grazing your nipple. You bit down on an embarrassing noise, letting out a sharp breath. “How else was I to make you take them?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Shouto made another pass over your nipple, and a moan escaped you instead.

“That’s right, love,” he said encouragingly. “Now I’m going to make you give me something in return. Thirteen somethings, in fact.”

He peeled down the cup of your bra, fastening his hot mouth over your breast. You whined, twitching when he flattened his tongue, dragging it slowly over the point of your nipple. A strong arm came up to press your hands down over your head.

“Shouto, thirteen is insane,” you panted.

He paid you no mind, instead swirling his tongue in a way that made your vision blur.

A tugging at your wrists made you look up, in time to see Shouto one-handedly looping the long end of the scarf through the slats on his headboard and pulling tight. Your whole body clenched up at the implication.

The slide of fabric over your breasts told you that Shouto had also managed to get your bra up, and hot mouth closed over your other nipple, long fingers carefully plucking at the other. “We have all weekend, love. Thirteen is ambitious but quite possible.”

You made a weak noise of acknowledgement, hips shifting forward against his stomach.

Shouto laughed, hot breath ghosting over your breast, and then he was crawling down your torso, hands grasping your underwear. He pulled it down slowly, torturously, until he managed to get it off you, then pulled your knee over his shoulder.

You whimpered, feeling like you might actually pass out from how hot he looked, one thigh thrown carelessly over his shoulder, gaze intent, staring down at you like a starving man looking at a hot meal.

You squirmed, trying to pull your arms down to get your hands on him, but the scarf held fast, pulling more firmly over your wrists.

“Shouto, please,” you said, though whether you were begging for him to touch you or to let you go, even you didn’t know.

Shouto seemed to take it as permission. Those two-toned eyes passed over you hotly, and then he was leaning down, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh. You jerked violently, but he held you in place, mouth trailing slowly, slowly down to where you wanted him.

You thought you might actually black out before he got where he was going.

“I can’t believe I ever told you you were unwelcome in my apartment,” he murmured, sucking a slow bruise into the skin at the crease of your thigh. “Once you move in, I’m never going to let you leave it.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

Shouto’s tongue flicked out, catching the edge of your sex, and you tried not to choke on air.

Then, finally, he moved, fastening his mouth over you, exactly where you wanted him. All reason completely left you.

After that, everything was an unbearable flurry of feeling--a soft tongue swirling over you, the tickle of his bangs on your stomach, the press of broad shoulders between your knees. There was the rasp of his sheets between your shoulder blades, the slow, deliberate press of two fingers inside of you, a firm grip on your thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

You could feel every point of connection with him, every minute movement of his mouth over you, and the sensation built up into something so horribly, terribly good. You were unable to do anything but writhe and pant underneath him, babbling something that sounded like it might be an approximation of his name.

Shouto hummed and sucked softly, those long fingers curling inside you. He finally hit a spot that made you see stars, and you practically lifted off the bed, back bowing. Shouto licked you through it, tongue curling expertly around your clit while you sobbed out his name, only slowing when your body went slack, collapsing back into his sheets.

When you could see straight once more, you realized he was staring up at you, that wry smile curling the corner of his mouth again.

You fought down a blush, feeling an embarrassed grin pull at the corner of your own mouth.

“You’re unreal,” you said. “I can’t believe I’m going to get to have you all the time.”

Shouto pressed a short kiss to the skin of your hip. “You already have me all the time.”

You flapped a hand in its bindings. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe we’re going to live together.”

His fingers slid gently over the back of your thigh. “I’d have had you in here sooner, if you hadn’t insisted on graduating first.”

You laughed. He was always so very straightforward about whatever he wanted.

He had been making very unsubtle noises about living together only a few months into your relationship, but you’d insisted that you wait at least a year. He’d grown up with more conservative mores, having been raised a rich boy, and taking things quickly once he knew he was serious about you seemed to be the style of things. But you, despite your frankly unreasonable thirst for your own boyfriend, knew the value of taking things just a little bit slower.

So you’d waited a year, just to be prudent, though you’d known all along how things would end up.

And now he finally had his way.

“I’m all yours now,” you promised, laughing. “Soon you’ll be sick of me hogging the bed, and leaving books everywhere, and getting so blackout at the farmer’s market that we don’t have room for all the vegetables.”

“Ah, you’re using me for vegetable access,” he accused, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile he was attempting to smother into your thigh.

“A girl’s gotta have her priorities,” you grinned.

Something lit up in Shouto’s gaze again, and he shifted up against your thigh to lean over you more fully. His fingers gripped the back of your knee tightly.

“I'll make you pay for that,” he promised darkly. “Twelve more times.”

You shivered as he took your mouth again, fingers sliding back between your thighs with obvious intent.

And then you really did. You paid for it.

Twelve more times.

[milstrim]

Home Is in My Arms

Tony Stark had had a daughter.

Her name had been Penelope.

She had had superpowers.

And he hadn't seen her in four years.

The ten year-old had last been seen on March thirty-first, 2012. The day of the Chitauri invasion. Tony had seen her that morning, and he guessed he could at least be grateful that their last interaction hadn't been like his own with his parents. Instead of a fight that was never resolved, the two had giggled on the couch of the newly furnished tower, him and Pepper with glasses of wine and Penny with her mint milkshake. Pepper had side-eyed them exasperatedly, as though their laughs and jokes had been the worst ruckus anyone had ever made.

And then Coulson. And then Steve. And then Natasha and Bruce and a God he had learned about in history when he was younger. And then Loki and the Helicarrier and explosions that had left Tony's head ringing--but nothing had hurt more than the loss of his friend.

Everything had gone by so quickly, so desperately, there had been no time to do anything about anything except gear up and go. The biggest reassurance he had given himself was that his homework had caused Pepper and Penny to leave the city for a couple of days while the girl was on Spring Break. It meant they were safe from everything was about to happen, and that he didn't have to worry past New York.

And they had won. The Avengers had been formed under desperate circumstances. They had saved the world.

And Penny had been gone.

Pepper had left on the plane, but Penny had managed to convince her godmother that she should stay at her friend's house for a sleepover. The aliens hadn't even been able to make it past the perimeter and into Queens, but the hectic of it had been enough. Or maybe she had run off to help. Even at ten she was braver than he was. Better. And equipped with superpowers from a field trip's rogue spider that made her stronger than even Captain America.

But it hadn't been enough.

No body was ever recovered. No trace of her was ever found. No footage or DNA or witnesses. There was nothing. Nothing for him to even try and grasp onto what had happened to her. How she had died. The best anyone could do was assume that a Chitauri weapon had vaporized her and to try to grieve from there.

And by God did he try.

After the Mandarin and almost losing Pepper, he'd put in more effort than he ever had. He visited the grave where no body was buried, leaving flowers and trinkets and books he knew she would have loved. He talked. To people who had known her like he had. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy and even Natasha.

The two had been so close when the woman had spied on him. Closer than he had been, still trying to change and learn to be a father better than his own after Afghanistan. He'd been dying and hadn't focused on anything but himself. About what he wanted to do before he was gone, instead of what would happen to his family afterwards.

So Tony tried. He tried a lot, but trying didn't always end in success. No, sometimes it ended in helicarriers made for HYDRA to control. Or a robot meant to protect only trying to destroy. Or in the fracturing of the Avengers, with Natasha and Steve on the run while the others sat in a max security prison that he spent every living moment trying to get them out of.

Except for now. Or maybe now too. Tony didn't know why Natasha had texted him. Only that she had betrayed him and texted only a couple of weeks later with a location out in Birmingham, England and nothing else but the message 'Get here quick.'

And he had. With nothing but a quick word to Pepper to keep Ross off of his aching back for a day, he'd stepped onto his plane and arrived in just over six hours. From there the billionaire had stepped into a waiting car and zoomed towards the address the spy had sent him, his heart racing just as fast as the vehicle's as he curved through city traffic.

Tony's thoughts strayed to Steve and Barnes and what had happened the last time he'd zoomed off to help his teammate. He swallowed down on his stuttering fear, reassured partly by the guantlet-watch sat snugly on his wrist and partly because he knew Natasha. Well, he knew her better than he ever had Steve anyway. Him and Natasha had fought, and there'd always been room for disagreements and anger, but at the end of the day they knew each other. And they were family.

The mechanic pulled up outside the run-down apartment complex, giving it a onceover before parking, pulling a baseball cap on low, and stepping out.

There was a drizzle, light and cold for the summer, even in England. He frowned, but only pulled his hood up with a shiver and stepped through the rusted metal gate, allowing him access to the first floor of apartments and a set of spindly stairs that he hoped didn't lead to any kind of locked door. He didn't exactly have a key, and Tony would prefer to not draw any attention to himself while here.

The man didn't need anymore grief from Ross. Not while he was desperate to pin something on Tony, and meeting with a violator of the Accords wouldn't exactly do much for his public image.

Biting on a sigh, Tony headed up the stairs towards the apartment number that Natasha had sent him. Thankfully, there was no locked door in his way, and the only person in the hallway that the stairs had led him to seemed to be much too out of it to pay him any mind. Quicker than he really would have liked, Tony was outside Apartment 9B, the number rusted and close to falling off of its hinges. Sucking in a breath, he knocked.

It only took a few seconds for the door to click! and then crack open just enough for him to catch familiar blue eyes and cropped platinum hair interrupted by a second lock's chain.

Natasha let out a short breath of relief, unlocking the door fully and opening the door just enough that he could slip inside. He glanced around the apartment once as she locked the door back up, surprised to see it was basically exactly what he had expected. It was small and old, orderly but not quite well-kempt, with evidence of past fights staining and fracturing the walls.

"Nice place," he commented. "Very runaway."

"Very last minute," Natasha responded. "It's not as easy as you think it is to get an apartment when everyone's trying to arrest you."

"You seem to slip away no matter what. By the way, how did you get away from Ross last week? I've got to know your trick on that, because I could use some pointers."

Natasha stopped beside him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. Despite his forcefully loose and nonchalant posture, Tony felt himself freeze up looking at the Avenger. Her expression, no matter what it was, had always been hard for Tony to discern when she was practically the perfect spy. But now, this smile--it was sad and joyful and regretfully guilty.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice dropping to something softer. Rarely sincere.

Natasha glanced away from him to stare at a door for a moment before glancing back at him. Her lips twitched and her eyes threatened tears in a way that he hadn't thought she would express to him.

She swallowed. "Penny's alive. And I found her."

Tony--

Tony didn't react. Not for nearly a minute. Instead he stared, his entire body stilling--even his damaged heart--before he seemed to come back to life all at once like a broken wound-up toy.

The man stumbled back a step, falling into the nearest gray wall. One lonely breath coming in in a strangled gasp as he willed for something--anything--to make sense. 

"She's alive?"

Natasha nodded.

"How?" he demanded. "How--in England? From New York? There's no way anybody could've just taken her while I was--"

The man cut himself off, dragging in another wheeze that rattled through his entire chest. His legs began to collapse under him, but his friend caught him, managing to maneuver him onto the floor slowly. Tony leaned against the wall as Natasha sat beside him, her head propped up against the wall beside him.

Neither said anything. Not for a few minutes at least at Tony's shaking and gasping ebbed. Not until he could force out images and nightmares of Penny his mind had tortured him with for years. He locked them in a box and dropped it in an ocean of useless thoughts, because his daughter was alive. Because she wasn't dead and none of it--a painful death full of fear and confusion while Tony was only blocks away that he had been tortured by for years--had ever happened.

Natasha spoke up when he'd finally managed to take in eight consistent breaths.

"I was raised in the Red Room," she started. "I was taken from my family and tortured for years. I tried to make a family there, and I did. For a little bit at least. But that family was taken too, replaced by the only world I had ever known. One based on pain and dictated structure. A cruel trick to play on a child, but it was normal for the Red Room. What wasn't normal was me not only succeeding more than they had ever dreamed, but succeeding past them. Escaping and deserting. Killing Dreykov was the last step of my defection to SHIELD. It was revenge and justice all at once. The others would be freed and I could clear out my ledger in a life I chose."

She swallowed, taking a moment.

"I failed. I failed and I didn't know." Natasha turned from staring ahead at the wall to stare at Tony. Suffering blue met broken brown, tired and guilty reflecting. In a whisper, she said, "Dreykov lived. He lived until a week ago. And the Red Room, and every Widow in it, lived under him."

Tony was touched to be trusted this much. To be trusted with even a sliver of what his friend had gone through in such a time of suspicion and betrayal. But he was scared. He was terrified, because Natasha never shared just to share. Everything she said had a point, a reason, a direction.

He tore his eyes away, shoving a hand over them and letting his head drop onto his knees. Unwillingly, he croaked, "No... Nat, please don't tell me--"

"Penny's a Widow."

Tony bit his lip, chewing on his cheek so harshly there was the tang of blood in his mouth. He took a moment, letting his head fall against the cracked and stained cement wall. Penny was alive. And she had been trained--no. Natasha's descriptions, however few and miniscule they had been, could not be described as simply training. Penny had been tortured. For four years. And what had he done but grieve and give up? If only he'd known. If only he'd found out sooner.

Natasha continued.

"The Red Room..." She took a breath and licked her lips. "After I escaped, they changed their whole system. Their method. How they hid and how they trained and--and how they controlled the women."

Something about the way Natasha said the last part sent a cold feeling down his throat.

"What did they do to her?" he croaked.

"They um...well, for lack of my understanding of it, they mind controlled her."

"They--Nat what? How would they even--"

"They controlled the brain’s neuropathways through external manipulation," came a new voice, their accent thick. Tony whipped his head around to stare at a woman he had never seen before. Like Natasha, she wore a regular hoodie and sweatpants but still looked as though she could take his life in less than a minute. There was an intensity about her, from her stance to her tied back hair to her ghostly blue eyes that stared at him suspiciously. "It was based off of blueprints for the Winter Soldier. Me and Natasha were part of the mission to retrieve them when we were young."

Despite the insanity of every new piece of information shot his way, he managed to piece it together in his head quickly enough that he opened his mouth to respond with a snapped remark, but Natasha managed to speak before he did.

"What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be looking after Penny."

"I was, but then I heard how badly you were explaining everything and I came to help." Natasha glared. "Relax. I finished braiding her hair and now she's pretending to be asleep so she can listen to everyone talking."

The last part was said with a pointed look down the narrow apartment hall, but everything after Natasha had said "Penny" didn't seem to make sense anymore.

"She's here?" he asked, already scrambling to his feet. He glanced between Natasha and the woman desperately. "Penny's here right now?"

"We found her yesterday," Natasha answered cautiously. "Me and Yelena just started to free the Widows deployed around the world. We managed to give her the antidote during a shootout in Estonia. After that a friend of mine managed to get us here."

"A shoot--is she okay?"

"Just a couple of burns," Yelena said. "She may be enhanced, but she still has plenty to learn. She could still kick your ass, though."

"Thank you. Truly," Tony said, a bite of sarcasm to his voice, before turning back to Natasha, his desperation bubbling. "Which room?"

"Tony, I don't think you need to just go bursting in there. Let me--"

Tony stopped listening, every word his friend was saying dying out on his ears as he spotted a brunette and wide brown eyes poking around the corner over Natasha's shoulder. He felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes clicked.

Penny had grown. She'd sprouted almost an entire foot from the short ten year old she had been, awkward and gangly limbs that the girl had always seemed to struggle with were replaced by obvious muscle and carefully controlled movement as she stepped out from behind the wall, their stare still holding. Despite the sharper angle of her chin and jaw, she still held baby fat in her cheeks that dwindled the look of her down by a couple of years, not helped at all by the familiar roundness of her deeply brown eyes.

He swallowed. His voice broke.

"Penny?"

—-

“Penny?"

It had been years since Penny had seen her dad. Since she'd heard him. Anything about her father not privy to missions had been carefully shielded away from the teenager for years. Sometimes on the few missions she had been sent on she would catch news clippings and pictures on TV channels before she had to move on or that terrible voice in her mind would force her to ignore him. But, despite the scarcity of which she was allowed to know about her father, she had always thought about him.

Penny had swam in her memories whenever she could. Whenever she needed. She'd think about the games she and her dad had used to play. About lessons he'd taught her and days they'd spent together. About hugs and braided hair and kisses to her head. The memories had felt faint and washed away underneath everything, but she'd clung to them like a lifeline.

That being said, she hadn't expected Dad's voice to sound like that. For him to look like this. He was always so put together in her mind--so strong--even when he was messy from the lab or tired from a long day of work, always accompanied by fond child-like adoration. But now he didn't look it.

There were bruises on his face, faint but still noticeably purple. His hair wasn't as dark or thick as she remembered, growing back just a little higher on his hairline, and more lines grabbed and pulled at his face. But that wasn't what ruined her memory of strength and warmth, people aged after all, that was just reality. It was the expression on his face and glossing over his eyes. It was the way he'd said her name, so unsure and weary.

Penny, finally, looked away from Dad, instead glancing over at Yelena and trying not to look like she was too desperate for help. Yelena stared back, raising her brows and gesturing to Tony with a slight nod of her head, as if telling her to not be a coward. But Penny didn't know how to do that. Not now.

Thankfully, Natasha took over.

"I'm going to go get us some dinner. Yelena?"

Okay, so not the kind of help she'd been looking for.

Yelena gave Penny one last glance, nodded, and then followed the Avenger out of the door.

The door clicked shut and then it was just father and daughter.

"Penny," he tried again.

She hid a flinch at how small and tired his voice was, how broken he felt standing only feet from her. She hid her shock and her fear and apprehension exactly how she'd been taught, schooling her features into something easy and bored. She let her shoulders drop and her posture loosen, but the hardest part was hardening her stare. That had always been the biggest complaint of her handlers. Her senses had been sharp but her expression always so readable by her eyes.

"Hi, Dad," she said, her voice cool and casual on default. The words felt terrible leaving her lips, so she crossed her arms in an attempt to feel more stable. "It's been a while."

He chuckled, short and sad. "Yeah. You could say that."

And then there was silence. It trickled in, slow, awkward, and tense between them. Penny tried not to let it get to her, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't tired and disappointed. When Yelena had smashed the antidote beside her, it was the first time the teenager had seen clearly in a long time, and her first thought had been of her Dad. There had been worries about if he missed her and if he'd been okay, but a fear had stabbed at her so strongly that she was still thinking about it.

Would he still love her? After all she'd done? She had hurt people. She had killed people. Not in defense. Not in good reason. But in fear and control.

"I, uh..." Penny blinked at her dad's voice, beating away her thoughts and instead focusing back on the bruised and stuttering man in front of her. "Sorry. I would've thought of something better to say if I'd known I was going to see you again. Maybe some presents too. Do you still like those peanut butter cookies?"

"The ones we used to make?" she asked. "With the Hershey Kisses?"

"Those are the ones."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had them since I was with you."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess you wouldn't have..." he trailed off, glancing down for a moment. She stared at him, watching his expression carefully as he loosened and looked back up at her. "Well, we can't make them again? At home?"

"Sure. Sounds fun."

Penny couldn't stand how dull her voice sounds, like she couldn't care less about something that really made her want to cry in happiness. But...she didn't know what else to do. What to say. The Red Room had made sure she always knew what to do and what to say, but that had been for politicians and businessmen and people she was supposed to trick. She didn't want to trick her dad. She just--she wanted to--

Dad stepped closer, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down in a deep and concerned frown. She kept a wary eye on him as he approached, trying to force down feelings of apprehension and fear that she had become familiar with whenever anybody was in her space. But he stopped about a foot short, his reached out hand halting just away from her face as he whispered, "Oh, piccolina. It's okay." His voice broke. "It's okay. I'm gonna make sure it is... I promise."

And finally she broke.

And it hurt. It really, really hurt.

Penny leaned her cheek into his open hand as hot beads of tears caught on her eyelashes, allowing for Dad to cup his other hand around the back of her head and tentatively pull her in. It took the teenager a moment to adjust, so wired on the need to fight and never let her guard down, but then she just--crumpled.

Like a switch had been flicked, Penny buried her nose into his neck and wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze, swallowing down tears. Dad pulled her in tighter, his nose pressed into her tightly braided crown.

And then he sobbed.

It was a strangled, inhuman kind of sound that rumbled from his chest to escape the back of his throat. He cleared his throat, as if embarrassed, but Penny wasn't an idiot. She could still hear his heart thumping and feel a tear slip from his chin onto the back of her neck. It all shocked her, but the sound found itself ringing in her ears painfully more than anything.

She flinched in his hug.

"Oh, Penny. I'm so sorry," he apologized, his voice sore with tears. "So, so sorry."

"For what?" she asked. "Not finding me? You wouldn't have been able to, Dad, even being you. Draykov made sure of it."

"I don't care. I should've done something! I should've--I should've--"

"Dad." He fell silent as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms back over her chest as she came back to her training. Dad stared at her, his dark copper eyes as guilty as she felt. "Please, just... Don't be sorry. Because I'm sorry, and if you're sorry then we're both sorry and we can't both be sorry it's--"

"What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Penny--"

"I'm not ten anymore, Dad. I don't think I'm even a kid anymore... I've--I've done too much harm. I have a lot to be sorry for."

Dad stared at her, a familiar sadness in his eyes. He chewed his cheek, brows furrowed in thought, and she was brought back to a time when she would watch him solve problems in the lab, or try to answer one of her inane questions that she never seemed to be able to stop asking.

"Let me ask you something," he started. "Do you think I'm a bad person? That I'm at fault for losing you?"

"No," she answered immediately, because her dad had always tried, no matter what. She'd known he wasn't perfect, and that a lot of people hated him for the mistakes he'd made, but she'd always known how much he really cared. How much he really cared and tried for the world. For the Avengers. For her.

"Well, then what makes you a bad person? What makes you not a kid anymore?"

Penny could only stare. She could only answer, "I've hurt people."

"I know. And I have too. But you don't think I'm a bad person, so you're not a bad person either. And what about Nat? Or your new very scary friend?"

"I forgot how much I hated arguing with you," she deadpanned.

"'Trying' to argue with me," he corrected, a smile pulling at his face. Surprisingly, she managed to smile back. Even more surprisingly, it didn't feel fake. Sure, it was small and tired, but Penny couldn't remember the last time she'd actually smiled. "See? Everything's going to be okay."

"How do you know?" she asked. "I'm a violator of the Accords. If it ever gets out that I was part of the Red Room--what I did for the Red Room--almost nothing could keep me out of prison. You'll have to explain how you found me and it would make you a violator--"

"I'll handle it," Dad said. "I always handle it. And just because you don't feel like a kid doesn't mean you aren't one. There are protections for you. And we found protections for Nat. Wanda too, if she would've taken them." He muttered the last part under his breath, the words emotionless but regret and guilt clear in his eyes. He cleared his throat and looked back at her with a raised brow. "And how do you know about the Accords? Do they have a current events class in the Red Room?"

"We do actually have to keep up with some events for missions. But, no. I've been reading old newspapers. Did you know you were on the front page for almost two weeks in June?"

"No. Nobody reads the paper anymore. Unless you're a dinosaur anyway."

"Uncle Rhodey likes the paper," she said with that still small but still real smile. "For the crossword puzzles."

"Yeah. Like I said: Dinosaur." With that, the jokes seemed to slide away as he took on a more serious tone. "But I'll handle it. I've already been trying to handle the Accords. You'll be safe, and free, at home, Penny. I promise."

"I can really come home?"

Dad paused. "Did you think you wouldn't?"

Penny shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted to. I want to. But I just... I didn't know how safe it would be, and I know how to live by myself. How to avoid suspicion. I was...I was prepared for other options."

"If you were planning on running, why did you meet with me?"

"I don't know," she said. But truthfully, there had been a hole in her heart. A knot in her stomach. She'd just--she'd needed to see her dad. To apologize and let him know she was okay. She'd missed her family for so long, she had to imagine they'd missed her too. In fact, Penny had wanted nothing more to know they'd missed her. That those years in the Red Room wondering where her family was hadn't been because they didn't care.

Realistically, Penny knew Dad had missed her. Had loved her enough to grieve and look for her, but being there for so long--so terribly long--had been enough for seeds of doubt to sprout and root itself in her mind. But the teenager didn't tell her dad that. That would make him upset, and Penny was tired of being upset. Instead, she said, "Just missed you. Wanted to know that you're okay."

"Well, now you're gonna know every day," he said. "And you're going to know that Pepper is okay. And Rhodey and Happy. And you're never going to miss us again."

"Never?"

"Nope. Well, maybe when you go to school. But we can homeschool if you would prefer that. Would you?"

"Oh, uh, I don't--"

"Yeah, never mind. You don't have to know right now," he said with a wave. Then he smiled at her again, that genuine smile that squinted his eyes and pulled at his wrinkled laugh lines. "Right now, why don't we just go home?"

"Yeah," she said. And suddenly no other thought occupied her mind. Home was all she could think of. Of tall New York skyscrapers and the bustling city. Or maybe they'd go back to Malibu, even if his house was gone. Either way she'd see her uncle again. And Pepper. And Happy, who were all family to her. Family she hadn't seen in so long. "Let's go home."

Dad smiled, his eyes misty. Penny smiled back, taking his hand and leaning against him in another hug. He readily accepted, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

The best part: Nothing about him whispered danger. Or discomfort or uneasiness. There was just...comfort.

Just home.

It was the best feeling in the entire world.

—-

“Should we tell Uncle Rhodey we're on the way?"

"Nah. He loves surprises."

"He hates surprises."

"Exactly!"

Penny laughed. And the sound, the feeling, was just like home.

[bukojuiice]

something in the rain   — todoroki shoto

ೃ you and shoto were once childhood best friends and sweethearts who had lost touch and communication. 12 years has passed since then, and on a fated summer day in june, there was something in the rain that brought two lost souls back to each other’s arms.

ೃ  pairing: shoto todoroki x fem! reader

ೃ  tags: childhood friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff

ೃ  warnings: none! 

ೃ wc: 1k

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

ೃ song inspo: film out by bts

Puppy Love…

What a sweet and trivial concept.

Was it not?

You and Shoto met each other at the tender age of 7. Roughly two years into his intense and odious training brought upon him by his father. His mother who still unwaveringly continued to support him, would sneak the half and half boy out in between his trainings. Whether to bring him out to play in the local playground, run around in the flower fields, or to just go shopping in the local grocer. These simple things were enough to make the boy happy. Even for just a short moment.

Then, during one fated day, the sun was about to go down, and no other child was frolicking around the playground.

It was just you.

Alone on the swing, your eyes cast down on the ground, wriggling your feet and dipping them into the play sand. You hear a faint creaking sound of the seat next to you and now you were accompanied by a boy the same age as you were. Heterochromatic eyes filled with innocence and love, a smile that looked like it never left the curves of his face, floofy half red and white hair that gave him a very distinct yet striking appearance.

“Why are you all alone?” He inquires, tilting his head. “It’s almost night time too. It’s going to get scary…”

“You came here alone too.” You snapped back, averting his gaze and your mouth forming into a pout.

He shakes his head, “No I didn’t. My Mommy is just there.” He points to a faint silhouette of a woman not far from the two of you.

“Oh.” You blink. “Well, um- my house is just over there! So, my parents don’t need to always keep an eye on me!” You cross your arms, pointing to your house a few feet away from the playground.

“You’re lucky. My dad keeps an eye on me a lot. He’s scary most of the time too and I think it’s because of my quirk…” His shoulders visibly slump as he breathes out a hefty sigh. “Mommy takes me out to go play when I’m done with my training and I’m happy because of it!”

“D-do you wanna play on the slide?” You ask him, twiddling with your fingers. A faint shade of pink present on your cheeks. “If it’s okay, I wanna share my happiness with you!“

His eyes sparkle. “Sure! But…. wait! I don’t even know your name yet!”

“Ah my name’s (Y/N)!”

“I’m Shoto!” He grins, his eyes sparkling once more and you can’t help but become flustered even more.

 Oh, how you wish to see those bright blue and grey eyes again. His fluffy white and crimson hair, and just… feel his lingering presence in your life once more.

Why did time have to go by so fast?

Why did he have to leave?

After a year of feeling nothing but the purest and most blissful emotions whenever you were with him, that all came crashing down when Shoto and his family moved to another city. The reason why was because the neighborhood that you lived in wasn’t “healthy” for him or rather, it was too friendly and Shoto was getting attached to you even though he shouldn’t.

Heroes are built to be as strong as steel after all. Emotionally and Physically. Endeavor doesn’t want his son to be a soft little marshmallow who only beams so brightly whenever he hangs out with the little girl from the quaint neighborhood.

…It’s been 12 years since then.

You’re now a perpetually tired and no-nonsense sophomore college student. Studied hard enough to get a scholarship at one of the most prestigious universities in Japan and now it feels like you’re drowning in a massive amount of school works and extra cred.

Now, looking back at your whimsical childhood life that was only made possible because of one particular Icy-Hot boy, you get a sudden feeling of euphoria course through you as you reminisce the good times.

There was a feeling of inevitability when you met Shoto.

There was something about him that drew you in.

Even at such a young age, you had the sense that the two of you would be together.

That a moment in time would come in where he would look at you in a certain way and the two of you would cross the threshold of friendship into something so much more.

Which proved to be true, as he has always felt the same way as you did.

The two of you knew each other a little better than everyone else.

All the little secrets shared through giggles and fits of laughter, the embarrassing moments shared in a small and dusty playground, and the sweet little memories that the two of you were too young to understand, but what your prying yet loving mothers both noticed.

Your lives were fated to converge like some cosmic dance. Like two shooting stars descending from the night sky. It was always fate.

It was fate that the two of you met. It was fate that the two of you would become friends, playmates, and childhood sweethearts.

But you guess it wasn’t fate that the two of you would remain friends forever.

You are still hoping for a sign in the sky or a word from the stars.

If the two of you are fated to meet again.

The soft boom of thunder and sparkle of lightning awoken you from your slumber.

You had fallen asleep whilst studying for your finals. Just ten minutes of rest. You whispered to yourself.

Those ten minutes ended up becoming an hour and a half wasted and instead of studying and memorizing the chemical formulas, you ended up dreaming about ramen instead.

Some pages of your chemistry book were creased as you had ended up using it as a pillow. You pay this no mind as you mindlessly rub your eyes out of habit, looking out the window, as rain had begun to pour outside.  

You continue to observe the rainfall as the soft sound of droplets hitting the windowpane was so soothing to you, giving you a momentary peace of mind.

Your short meditation moment was soon interrupted with the grumbling of your stomach.

“Mom and Dad aren’t home till 9…” You stretch your arms, groggily murmuring to yourself. “Might as well have a trip to the convenience store.” You hop out of your chair, reaching for a grey hoodie and matching sweatpants from your closet, trying to channel the comfy girl look as you head out.

You lock the door to your house, opening your umbrella as you whistle your way to the convenience store, taking each step carefully hoping you don’t step on any dirty puddles and hoping you see some cute little frogs on the pathway.

You stop in your tracks when you notice a black sedan parked not too far from your house. You raise suspicion a little bit until you remembered that a new family was moving in the house near you, so you decided to just brush off your skepticism.

“Welcome to Conbini! May I kindly ask you to leave your umbrella by the door?” The cashier greets you, trying to force a customer-friendly smile. They might have had a rough week and you don’t want to be labeled as those jerk kinds of customers so you nod at her and leave your parasol at the entrance.

“Oh my god.” You were about to drop the bags of food in your hands when you notice that your umbrella was gone from the parasol stand, another customer possibly mistaking their umbrella for yours. You sigh in defeat. “You know what, heck it. I could care less at this point.” You pull up your hoodie, dashing your way back home, hoping you don’t end up getting sick from this careless situation you’ve put yourself into.

You stop in your tracks once again when you see a dashing-looking man standing in front of the gates of your house.

tall, well built, half and half colored hair that was wet and tangled, wearing a long and patterned coat, hands in his pockets… it felt as if he was waiting for someone to come out of your home.

Could this be…?

He was alerted by the sound of your steps rippling with the puddles in the pavement, turning to face you, his umbrella twirling with him.

His eyes grow wide at the sight of seeing you, and you notice his chest rise up, like a feeling of relief and of hope.

“(Y/N)…?”

“S-shoto?”

These are still the beautiful heterochromatic eyes you know and love. Only this time, it had a darker hue reflecting from his orbs. These are eyes who have seen and who have gone through so much.

You can’t even believe it.

Here he was, standing right in front of you. The boy you loved all those years ago.

Even more handsome, mature, and striking, and yet you could feel this broken emptiness radiating from him. Emotional scars that still run deep through him and… at this moment, you just want him to bare his heart to you. All this pain and suffering he has felt all these years.

You feel droplets of water sliding down your cheek like crystal teardrops.

“It’s really you…” You were about to drop the bags of food in your hands due to your blissful bewilderment but Shoto rushes to you with his umbrella, shielding you from the storm.

He was a bit too close and you could feel the heat rush up to your cheeks again, a feeling you have not experienced in so many years.

“Ah. I’m sorry.” He steps back a little from you and you can hear yourself internally monologue “nooo” as he takes a few steps away. “It’s been 12 years isn’t it?” He catches your attention again.

“It is. Yeah...” You nod, still looking up at him, a certain twinkle in your eyes and an inexplicable feeling growing in your chest. “W-what brings you here?” You add, your voice soft and sweet, whether you did this on purpose or not will forever remain a question.

“My family… we’re moving back here.” He replies quickly. solemn, yet there was a tint of excitement in his tone. “My father thought it was best if my mother, my siblings and I lived in a different house than him after… all the pain that he made us go through… and so… here we are.”

“Oh! Would you like to come inside and have some coffee?” You ask, pointing your finger to your humble abode. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” You giggle jokingly, trying to keep the atmosphere light and warm despite the cold weather present around you.

You start heading to the direction of your house, knowing that Shoto will follow you inside until… 

he grabs you by the arm, enveloping and pulling you in for a tight yet soft and comforting hug. A feeling that you’ve been wistfully longing for such a long time. 

A feeling that only Shoto Todoroki could give.

“I missed you so much (Y/N)… can you share your happiness again with me?”

In the midst of the rainy summer season that brought nothing but dim and grey skies, wet and damp atmosphere, and endless floods of sorrow, you were his spring. The rosebud opening in the watery sunshine.

The whimsical girl with grass-stained knees running around the meadow with him… like a prophecy telling him that new beginnings were about to come, your personality and your appearance reminded him of the cherry blossom trees that symbolized a time of renewal.

You were the rainbow after a storm. Spreading light and color to those around her…

The one who brought back light and color to his life again.

 “from all the memories stored in my heart”

I only picked up and connected the ones of you.”

  ೃ taglist: @chibishae34  @lovelytarou​ @ramunegoddess​, @serossimpy @laudthingcat​

[thisissirius]

fight me, siri

ok

a place for us [ao3 link] eddie/buck, mid-episode for rage

Eddie stares at the phone. 

There’s a cop standing just behind his left shoulder, he’s grateful it’s not Athena, looming and reminding Eddie he doesn’t have long. He should call his abuela, in case he can’t get out in time to pick up Chris. He could call call Lena, ask her to bail him out. He can’t call Buck. 

The fucking lawsuit. 

The anger settles low in his stomach, threatening to boil over. What right does Buck have to drag their personal shit into the open? To let Mackey at it like he deserves to tear apart their decisions and use it against them?

Eddie shouldn’t call Buck, it’ll only lead to a fight. 

Picking up the handset, he dials one of the only numbers he knows by heart and touches his forehead to cold stone, hoping his call is answered. 

“Hello?”

Eddie swallows. “It’s me.”

“Eddie?” The sound of a couch rustling, the familiar slow intake of breath. “Where are you?”

It’s a bad idea, but Eddie can’t stop himself blurting out, “i need you to bail me out of jail.”

Silence. 

“I know I shouldn’t call—”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

The dial tone rings in Eddie’s ear. 

When Eddie gets outside of the station, there’s a familiar truck in the parking lot.

Part of him wants to ignore it, to satisfy the rage curling low and angry in his belly and find something else to punch. Part of him wants to wrench open the door of the truck and—

Except. 

Opening the door, Eddie climbs inside and tries not to make eye contact. “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” Buck says. He sounds angry, and when Eddie risks a glance, his jaw is tight. He’s furious, which just makes Eddie angry. What right does he have to be mad at Eddie? It’s his fault Eddie even— “Where do you wanna go?”

The anger stagnates and Eddie buckles in, stares back at the station. There’s a reason he’s called Buck, made the choice to reach out. “Chris is at a sleepover.”

Buck nods, fingers tightening on the wheel. 

“Can we,” Eddie starts, fights the urge to snap something angry, fights to keep his tone calm. “Can we go to yours?”

Head snapping right, Buck raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious right now?”

Eddie doesn’t bother answering, lets Buck make up his mind. He fiddles with the phone in his pocket, trying not to check whether Chris has called. He wants Chris to have fun, but there’s always an undercurrent of worry left behind. The truck is tense, silence dragging out into something dangerous. Eddie wants to break it, to snap at Buck for everything he’s doing, for making everything wrong when Eddie’s already struggling to keep his shit in line. 

The truck comes to a stop and Eddie’s startled to see they’re at Buck’s apartment. He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Get your ass out the truck or I’m locking you in,” Buck says, slamming the door. 

Eddie bites back his own retort—Buck’s bailed him out and he doesn’t know how he’s gonna pay Buck back for it—and clambers out of the truck. Buck’s at the door to his apartment block, holding the door open, his back to Eddie. It’s a dismissal that has Eddie bristling, and he storms after Buck into the building. 

“Why’d you bring me here?” Eddie asks, when he shuts the door behind them. Buck’s angrily wrenching beers from the fridge and Eddie feels ungrounded, like he’s the only one with a right to be angry and can’t understand why Buck’s—

“You asked me to bring you here.” Buck slams a bottle on the counter. “Just like you asked me to bail you out of jail, Eddie, what the fuck!”

The anger is back, bubbling up, and Eddie snaps, “You don’t get to judge me.”

“My money’s the reason you’re standing here right now.” It’s a warning tone that Eddie barrels right over. 

“If I knew you’d hold it against me, I’d have called somebody else.”

“Who?”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut. 

“This is gonna fuck up my case,” Buck says, holding up a hand when Eddie starts to retort. “Shut up, Eddie. This is gonna fuck up my case and I came anyway.”

Eddie snorts. “So what, I should be thankful? You shouldn’t even have been suing us—“

“I want my job back,” Buck says. It’s quiet, exhausted, and it stifles some of the anger. Eddie looks at him, really looks; Buck’s deflated, tired, drawn. How is it that just a few weeks ago, Buck and Chris were in a tsunami and now they’re here, everything breaking and running away from Eddie faster than he can make it stop? “I just want to come back and Bobby won’t let me.”

“Buck,” Eddie says. 

Buck clenches his hands into fists, rests them on the counter. “What excuse do you have?”

“It’s not an excuse,” Eddie snaps, and then shakes it off, turns around and stalks towards the couch. He needs to stop, to get control of himself. Fuck. He punched someone. 

“Eddie,” Buck says, and there’s something about his tone that forces Eddie to look. “You were booked for assault.”

Eddie sits on the couch, rubs at his face. “He was being a dick about Chris.” 

The story tumbles from him, because he needs someone to hear, to understand. 

There’s a ripple of fury on Buck’s face. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“I punched him,” Eddie says with a shrug. Then, thinks about it. “Fuck, I punched him.”

Buck sits on the coffee table, to the left of Eddie. His hands between his legs, toying with a frayed thread on his sweatpants. “What’s going on with you?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. How does he even begin trying to put shit into words? “Nothing.”

“Eddie.” Buck looks up, his eyes wide, and fuck, Eddie hates how unmoored he feels around Buck sometimes. “I never wanted this.”

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs, leaning back against the couch. “Well now you have it.”

Silence stretches between them again and Eddie fidgets, pulls his phone from his pocket. The anger coasts and he knows if he tugs at it, he could use it to hurt Buck, to tear him apart like Eddie wants to. 

Except. 

Eddie doesn’t want to. He’s tired, too. He just wants things to make sense, to be right. “He misses you.”

Buck winces, drops his head. “I didn’t mean for things between us to go wrong.”

“What did you think would happen?”

Shrugging, Buck’s jaw tightens again and he stares off towards the kitchen. “Bobby’s the reason I can’t come back.”

Eddie frowns. “What?”

“You said chain of command,” Buck says, sounding hoarse, and he looks back. “Bobby told me I couldn’t come back. That the department said it was okay, but he didn’t think I was ready.”

Something stirs in the back of Eddie’s head. “Why?”

Buck shrugs again. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, feeling some of the anger bleed into frustration on Buck’s behalf. “Did he say why?”

“I don’t know,” Buck says, and Eddie hears everything he’s not been saying. The confusion, the hurt, and he’s angry at himself all over again. He’s been so busy and wrapped up in his own shit, with Chris, that he’s never thought to think about Buck. Buck, who’s lost his job, his family, and his confidence. 

Sliding forward, Eddie reaches out, expecting a flinch, and when he doesn’t get one, feels relieved for reasons he can’t explain. “I’m sorry.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Buck stares at him. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, sounding wrecked. “I was so concerned with being mad, I didn’t even think.”

“It’s okay.”

“No,” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s knee. “It’s not. You gotta stop letting us off the hook when we hurt you, man.”

Buck's look is wry. “I’ll let you off the hook for that if you tell me what the fuck you were doing punching someone.”

It’s so easy to feel the low burn of anger, of failure. Eddie’s been riding it this whole time, trying to exist in a world threatening to drown him. 

“Eddie,” Buck says, reaching out and touching Eddie’s hand. He’s hesitant, apprehensive, so Eddie turns his hand palm up, lets Buck tangle their fingers together. 

Staring at their linked fingers, Eddie swallows hard. “Shannon wanted a divorce.”

The words fall between them. 

“Shit,” Buck mutters, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so angry all the time,” Eddie says. He hates being this vulnerable, this weak, but it’s a lot and he can’t stop the words tumbling out now he’s started. Buck’s holding him tight, fingers squeezing hard enough Eddie imagines his fingers breaking. Imagines himself crumbling beneath Buck’s touch and he gasps out the rest, eyes wet. “I let her back in, let her see Chris and I knew, I knew it wouldn’t be enough, you know? It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t, she died, Buck, but she was gonna divorce me.”

Buck’s silent.

“I wasn’t enough,” Eddie says eventually. “I just wanted to be enough. So that Chris could be happy.”

A hand touches his face, fingers gentle, and he looks up, meets Buck’s eyes. “Chris is mourning his mom,” he says quietly. “He’s suffered a tsunami, he’s mourning his mom, but he’s happy, Eddie. Or at least he will be.”

“How do you know?” Eddie whispers, afraid that if he talks any louder, the words will prove he’s as weak as he feels. 

“Because of you,” Buck says. His voice is certain, hard in a way that forces Eddie to pay attention. “You’re a good dad, Eddie. Sure, you’ve just been arrested,” Eddie huffs a reluctant laugh, revels in the smile on Buck’s face, “but you’re a good dad.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, shaking his head. 

“Hey.” Buck squeezes his hand, the fingers against Eddie’s face sliding around to his neck, thumb to Eddie’s jaw. “You’re the best thing in that kid’s life.” A pause. “In mine.”

Eddie freezes. 

“After Chris,” Buck says quickly, cheeks pink. “You’re my best friend, Eddie. Whatever that means.”

“A lot,” Eddie says, truthfully. “I haven’t had a best friend before,” he continues. “Not sure if I know how to be. Sometimes I think I do, then others—”

“Yeah.” Buck sounds like he understands. 

Sometimes Eddie wants to kiss Buck. To drag him in, hold him close and never let him go. The words won’t leave Eddie’s mouth, stuck somewhere down his throat, threatening to choke him. 

Buck shifts again, until he’s sitting opposite Eddie. He takes a breath, touches their foreheads together. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Eddie admits. 

Buck’s eyes are really fucking blue. He’s beautiful in ways Eddie’s never let himself see. 

“Shannon died,” Eddie says eventually. “I don’t think I’m over it.”

“I know.”

“I want to be.” 

Buck stares at him, expectation heavy between them. 

“I want to kiss you.” The words are quiet. Eddie takes a breath, meets Buck’s eyes. “Sometime. When we’re both ready.”

“Okay,” Buck says. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Buck’s face breaks into a smile. It’s small, tentative, but bright. Eddie wants to drag more out of him, ones that light up his whole face. 

There’s another pause and Eddie breaks first, tugs him in. Wrapping his arms around Buck, Eddie lets out a soft sigh. “Thanks, Buck.”

Buck’s arms come up to Eddie’s back, his nose against Eddie’s neck. “For what?”

Eddie huffs. “Bailing me out? Talking some sense into me.”

“What are best friends for?”

Pulling back, Eddie touches Buck’s face, thumb against Buck’s bottom lip. “Hopefully more than that.”

Buck’s smile is wide, a familiar look on his face. “Eventually. If you earn it.”

Eddie’s startled into a laugh and he drops his chin to his chest, grinning. 

“Hey,” Buck says, squeezing Eddie’s arm. Eddie lifts his head and raises his eyebrows. “Either way, I love you.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. Then, with certainty, says, “I love you too.”