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george-fabian-weasley · 3 years

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the mad hatter — g. w. (chapter 4)

Summary: Due to your direct relations with George Weasley, you were prohibited from leading the case anymore. But you were given a chance to interrogate him, and the tension between the married couple thickens.

Words: 2,861 words

Warnings ⚠: TW murder, TW blood, TW injuries, angst, thriller, husband!george, sadistic!george, fem!reader, arguments, mentions of sadism

Disclaimer: hey yall <3 welcome back to another chapter of ‘syaf simping for sadistic george!’, I haven’t been able to be active in this site because of work, so I’m really sorry! I’m making it up for yall though, I have some fics ready in no time so wait for it! Reblogs and Comments are highly Appreciated! Enjoy!

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“... What do you mean?” Your voice was slow, yet it was menacing. “You heard me,” He said, sighing. “So you’re saying I can’t have this case anymore?” Your tone was quivering, trying your hardest to control your anger. The man in front of you, Remus Lupin is the A. D. A of the case. He’s going to be the one to put The Mad Hatter— no, George Weasley to jail.

But he’s pulling on your strings at the moment. Tightly.

“It’s inevitable, Y/N—” “Bullshit!” You slammed your hands on your desk, the pain of your palms didn’t sting, the adrenaline coursing through your veins were much stronger. You’re now breathing through your mouth, huffing slowly like a predator towards its prey. You’re angry, very angry.

He’s telling you to back off from your own case.

“You recommended me for this case to the higher ups. And now you want to take it back?” You scoffed, glaring at Remus with the deadliest look you can muster, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“This is my case. I’ve spent a month of my time and my co-workers’ time investigating this prick,” You spat, huffing a cynical smile, “You have no right to take away this case from me.”

“As this case’s attorney, I actually do, in fact, have the right to take this case away from you, Weasley,” Remus spat out as venomously, “Need I remind you that prick is your own husband. You have direct relations to the suspect, therefore you are now ineligible to either investigate him or take any part of this case.”

You two were in your office at the headquarters, door closed shut yet everyone dares not to knock on the room containing two wolves.

“I don’t bloody care that he’s my husband, he’s a mass murderer and should be treated as such, therefore your reasoning to kick me out of this case is utter bollocks!”

“You’re a fucking witness now, Y/N! You’re his wife!” Remus finally matched the tone of your voice, the veins bulging on his neck showed the severe control he had on himself to not explode. He sighed heavily, slightly massaging his temples, “How do I make this clear so you can understand, Y/N,” He muttered loud enough for you to hear, before looking at you straight to the eye.

“You have feelings for your suspect. You married him for seven bloody years so don’t give me that bullshit that it doesn’t matter and you won’t get emotional in that room!” He shouted, hand flinging to the direction of the investigation room, where George was waiting.

Patiently.

“You know this would happen the moment you put him in cuffs. You know already. What do you even want to ask him anyway?” Remus’s tone deflated as his shoulders dropped. You clenched your jaw, hard enough to feel the veins at your temple to bulge. Remus was right, what do you even want to ask him anyway? Why would he do this to you? Why would he lie to you? Why would he play you like this?

Does he even love you?

‘Get a grip on yourself, woman. He’s no longer your husband, he’s The Mad Hatter,’ the voice in your head sternly said, snapping you out from your train of thoughts. You took a deep breath, calming down your temper as you spoke, “I want to ask him why would he target former sexual assaulters, and record himself talking about them.”

Remus shrugged his eyebrows, “Good questions indeed, but what makes you think he’s going to tell you?”

You huffed a smirk, “What makes you think he won’t? I’m his wife, like you said and the mother of his child. I have the leverage that he doesn’t,” You said, feeling your confidence coming back and your professionalism finally resurfacing after what seems like hours of self-wallowing of ‘where did it all go wrong?’

Remus mirrored your smirk, “He fooled you blind for 7 years. What makes you think he won’t try again for the next 30 minutes?” He questioned, and you nonchalantly shrugged with a lazy smile on your lips, “Guess you just have to sit back and watch me do my job.”

The smile on your lips vanished, your grim expression had slightly intimidated Remus, “Let me in that room, and I’ll get him to confess that he’s The Mad Hatter.”

---

He knew you would come.

George smiled as he watched you walk in the room with the case’s file. “I knew you would come,” he watched as you slightly froze at his voice, before a hard look settled on your face, “Yeah, well, I need answers.”

George painted a small smile on his lips, “I’ll try my best to answer you then, my love.” “Don’t call me that.” He tilted his head to you,not quiet catching what you said, “Hm?”

You couldn’t look at him in the eye before, but now you’re standing in front of him, hands placed on the glass table, your fiery gaze straight into his somber ones, “Don’t call me ‘my love’. Or Darling, or Love, or anything. You call me Chief Detective, you hear me?” Your voice was low and dangerous, yet George only smiled at your attempt of intimidating him.

“Now why should I do that?” He asked, and you gave him a cynical smile as you sat across him, “You have no reason not to.”

“Why, haven’t you changed,” George muttered slowly, a smile on his lips. You looked different, and he likes it. Not that he doesn’t like you before, but this version of you; it impressed him.

It excites him.

“Listen, Weasley,” You leaned forward, glancing at the shackles that held George’s hand on the table, “You’re in my house now. So you better start talking before I force words out of that deceitful mouth,” You said slowly, looking at him straight in the eye, smirking in amusement at his lack of fear.

“How funny,” He leaned forward as well, slightly shaking his cuffed hands to hear the rattle of the iron, a playful smile on his lips, “Was I not in your house this whole entire time?” His smirk widened at the clenched jaw you did, amused at how easy he had you wrapped around his finger.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll have your tongue strangling your own neck,” You spat, leaning back on the chair to get away from him for a moment. The man in front of you isn’t the George you knew. It’s not the real George. Or, it is the real George, only he fooled you all this time.

Only thinking about it made your heart boil.

George chuckled coldly, his chuckles echoed through the room. “I’d love to see you try,” His voice was delightful, yet there was something poisonous about it as he smiled at you, “I want to share that thrill with my wife too.”

“The thrill of what?” You asked, and George chuckled again, “Now, my love, you know I’m not as gullible as you think I am to fall for that. Nice try, though,” he winked. You sighed, getting irritated by his play of words, “Let’s cut off the bullshit now, shall we? Let’s start the investigation.”

He shrugged, “I gave you my word. Let’s start then.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. No matter what you do, you can’t help but to feel flutters in your heart when he smiles, or call you ‘my love’. The flutters felt like knives, though.

“Lights out,” you suddenly said. George tilted his head, “What?” “Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” You quickly cut him, you faced the one way mirror, “Lights out.”

“You have 15 minutes before Lupin knows, so make it quick,” Zabini’s voice rang out from the speaker, and the lights went out. A while later, the emergency light was on, a red glow looms the entire room, giving the space an eerier vibe.

George looked at you curiously, “What is this, Y/N?” You sat silent. You hated it that you had to plan a secret mission with your team just to have time to talk to your husband. You need answers. No matter what.

So, it was no wonder that you looked up to him with your lips quivering and your eyes weak, “Why did you lie to me?” Baffled with your sudden change of demeanor, George furrowed his eyebrows, “Wha—” “I got Blaise to cut off the electricity here for a few minutes, so the surveillance camera won’t work,” You explained.

“Not even Blaise can hear us, so tell me,” you looked at him again, “Why did you lie to me?”

Watching the vulnerability in your expression, George’s smug facade faltered. He knew you like the back of his hand, you were telling the truth. Yet, George wasn’t stupid. He didn’t know how you act in your work, so he had to be cautious. He put up his wall again as he smirked, “But I didn’t. I didn’t lie about anything.”

His smirk washed off as you closed your eyes, “George, please…” He watched as you wiped away the tears welling in your eyes, this was the Y/N that he knew, the Y/N that he protected for the past 7 years from his truth.

George clenched his jaw, “What do you even want me to say, Y/N?” His voice now lacked the tinge of amusement, you realized he’s serious now. You looked at him, “What happened to you?”

“Whatever do you mean?” He said, and you gritted your teeth, “What happened to you, George? What caused you to be like this?” “This?” He repeated your words. He scoffed, “I’ve always been this, Y/N. I’m just good at hiding it from you and Rafa.”

“Don’t lie to me. You’ve been lying to me for 7 years straight, I deserve the truth,” You voiced out, and George shook his head, “No, you deserve to be away from me. The truth will only make you resent me more.”

“What fucking difference does it make now, George?! You lied to me! You hide yourself from me! Do you even love me?!” You were standing now, slamming your hands on the table. George clenched his jaw, fighting to stay silent.

“Tell me the truth! Do you even love me?!”

“You want the truth? Here is my truth,” he snarled, “I am that sick bastard you always talk about. I am The Mad Hatter!”

“Of course I fucking do!” He stood up abruptly, startling you. The handcuffs rattled more as he tried to yank his wrists away from the table. “If I don’t love you, then I would have drowned you that night we met! I wouldn’t have Rafael with you! I would have killed you!” His voice was loud and clear, yet his feelings inside couldn't exactly say the same thing.

George Weasley had lost control of his composure.

“No, no…” You muttered, shaking your head slowly, “But you’re an angel to me! You’re an angel to me and Rafa, George!” You said, desperation clinging onto your voice tightly.

“If I am one,” He breathed heavily, “If I am an angel, then let me rip off my wings and break apart my halo because I have killed!” He shouted, “And I don’t fucking resent it! Not one fucking bit.”

You were silent in shock from his outburst, while George huffed heavily. His heart was racing with adrenaline, but he hated this one. He looked at you who was still in shock, “Is that what an angel is to you?” he asked cynically.

“Someone that kills for the thrill? If I wanted to, I would have killed you that day you walked into the shop, Y/N,” he said. “But I’d rather kill someone else then kill you and Rafa,” He continued with a small voice. You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”

You snapped out from your state of shock and began to shake your head in confusion, “What the fuck are you talking about, George? You mean to tell me that you killed 7 people because you didn’t want to kill us?”

“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I meant,” He spat, looking at you with a snarl, “Who do you think killed my whole family except Fred?” George started to laugh maniacally, “And I’ve only spared him all this time because he’s my twin brother and I need a partner for my business.”

“You… You killed your family?” You breathed out, horrified. George looked at you and smiled eerily, “Who else?” His expression grimmed. “I’ve always been this, Y/N. A monster; who craves for the thrill of the kill, and the stench of blood, and the screams of pain and burn. That’s who I am, that’s who I truly am.”

“... I never understood love. Not even when I married you. But when Rafa came along, he taught me what love is. He taught me how to love. And when I realized I love you both, I realized that I loved my family too. But in the end,” He chuckled again, “I killed them,” He whispered dreamily.

There was a shadow of pain in his eyes, you could sense it. When he looked at you, you found the tenderness he always had in his eyes when he looked at you. For a moment, you wondered if he’s really saying the truth; about him being in love with you. Being in love with your family.

“You,” You watched him look away from you for a moment, pursing his lips, “You gave me a happy life. And I forgot what it’s like to kill. You made me into a new man,” He said slowly. There was silence for a while, it was only you and him, staring into each other. But something clicked inside him that caused him to look away.

He continued in a cold voice, “But I remembered what I did to my family. I remembered how I felt. I loved it, no matter how much guilt weighed on me for years. I loved seeing their terrified faces when I killed them slowly one by one. Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and, and little Ginny. They’re in my dreams every single day after that, haunting me, taunting me to kill you and Rafa next. Because that’s who I am,” He slowly shook his head, “But I don’t want to.”

His head turned to you, “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to kill Rafa. If I ever do, I— I—” He scoffed, his eyes wandering around the table wildly, “I don’t know if I can forgive myself for it.”

“For killing us?”

“No, for enjoying it,” George confessed. You let out a shaky breath, trying your best to digest it right. Looking at you being quite shaken by the truth, George smiled to himself, “This is also why I didn’t want to tell you the truth.”

“What?”

“You’re looking at me like a monster,” He said softly, lips etching that gentle smile you always adored. He sat back down on his seat, his hands playing with the metallic chain that held him down. “I’m not saying that I’m not one, I just feel better when you look at me with love because I’m your husband, not a sick bastard who kills for fun.”

“It feels nice not to be a monster sometimes.”

“George... “ You didn’t know what else to say, but his name. “T-then… Why did you target former sexual assaulters? A-and why would you record them?” You asked slowly.

George looked at you for a moment, blinked and he only smiled. That’s when you realized that he had put up his walls again. That George who had confessed his love to you, and had confessed his crimes to you was gone, this is The Mad Hatter now.

“I told you the truth, I answered your questions. I gave you my word, didn’t I?” He spoke, as if nothing happened a few minutes ago. You took a deep breath to recollect yourself again. You felt confused, angry, scared, and everything else.

But you’re also hurt.

“... But you did kill me, George.” Your words caused him to look up to you. You were looking down on your hands before standing up straight, sighing as you looked at him, “You hurt me, you lied to me, you deceived me, you played me like I’m no less than a rag doll. Even if you didn’t kill me physically, you killed me in there,” You pointed to his chest, slightly scoffing at the tears welling up your eyes.

And the lights went back up again.

You took a deep breath, pretending everything was fine. “Nott and Zabini will interrogate you. I’m off the case because of you, so I hope you can work with them, and tell them what you just told me,” You said nonchalantly, forcing the lump on your throat to swallow itself back down.

George chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah, I don’t think I will.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”

At that moment, the door opened and someone came into the room, “This interrogation is over now that I'm here, please leave,” The man said coolly and you widened your eyes as you recognized him instantly as soon as he walked in the room, “... Fred?”

“Ah, brilliant.”

The glint of mischief in his eyes had returned, and you realized that the two brothers in front of you are up to no good.

“My lawyer’s here.”

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chancelloramidala · 3 years

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Staring at the Sun ➤ Evan Buckley

Chapter Three: Why Heart? Why?

Masterlist

Karen was in the kitchen doing the dishes when Hen came in grabbing a bottle of wine from the case and two glasses. “Hey, baby, who’s here?”

Hen shot her wife an exasperated look. “My co-worker, Marceline.” then she eyed the case of alcohol they had and debated if they would need something stronger.

“Oh, the brooder?” Karen raised a brow as she finally turned the water off after cleaning to soap suds off of the plates, recalling how her wife had gone on long tangents multiple times about the mysterious Marceline Pierce who held everyone at arm’s length.

“Yeah,” Hen chuckled before picking up a bottle of whiskey. Might as well go all in. “She ran here, I didn’t even know she knew where we lived.”

Karen shrugged with a small amused smile on her lips. “Maybe she just needs a friend right now. You go on now, I’ll put Denny to bed.”

Hen smiled at Karen’s generosity. “Thanks, babe,” she walked over and gave her wife a quick peck on the lips before heading off towards the living room.

Marceline sat in one of the comfy chairs and hugged one of the throw pillows to her chest. She took in the living room she was in, focusing mainly on the pictures that littering the walls of Hen and her wife, Karen, and their son Denny. They looked like a happy family in her own opinion as a thought popped into her head, You’re disturbing their family time together, Marceline. Her head shot up when she heard Hen come in, carrying two bottles of alcohol and some glasses.

“Hey, um, sorry for intruding on you like this… I know you’re probably busy and shit,” Marceline fiddled with the frills on one side of the pillow she was hugging, feeling selfish for coming here in the first place.

“Pfft,” Hen shook her head as she walked over, laying the bottle of red wine and whiskey onto the coffee table before finally taking a seat across from her on the couch. “It’s fine, we already finished dinner and just cleaning up. It was just a little surprising but, I don’t mind, Marceline, really.” she gave the other woman a small smile that softened into a grin. “Plus, I didn’t really know what to expect so I brought both red and whiskey, take your pick.”

Marceline eyed Hen for a moment before slowly reaching for the whiskey and pouring herself a nice, long glass of amber liquid. Hen’s eyes widened at that, knowing very well that whiskey was strong as hell, and once she took a long sip, deciding that Marceline was spending the night here.

“Okay, so,” Marceline made a face after downing a whole glass of whiskey, the liquid burning her throat before staring at Hen. “I’m just going to put it all out there, um,” her eyes darted away from Hen’s nervously as she picked at her nails. “You were right earlier… about how I had an opinion on Buck and Abby… ‘cos like… I have a lot of opinions about them. Not necessarily… good ones… and um, the reason for my negative opinions is because, um,” she took in a deep breath before pressing her eyes shut. “I’m kind of... in love with Buck.”

So… that was not at all what Hen was expecting Marceline to tell her. Honestly, she was expecting some dark and mysterious from the other woman’s past that would explain her closed-off nature but… this was more than enough to suffice.

But another unexpected thing just happened before Hen’s eyes: Marceline silently crying into a pillow she was hugging.

“Oh, honey,” Hen said softly and reached for a box of tissues nearby. “It’s okay, I’m glad you told me. Thank you for trusting me with that, I’m… honored.”

Marceline took a few tissues from the box Hen inched towards her and blew her nose. “I just,” she hiccuped for a moment and swallowed more of her pride. “I’m angry with myself for loving him because he’s taken now and I waited too long to tell him and it took me getting shot to realize that.” she huffed out as she let go of the pillow and started to dig her fingernails into her palm to prevent her from lashing out. “And I’m angry that he’s happy with Abby because I’m so fucking jealous of her.

“I want to be the one with Buck but I’m not. I’m just his emotionally distant co-worker who took two bullets for him. And I already told Nic this, all of it. She’s heard it from the start and I feel like I’m annoying her with my shit, especially my shit about Buck because she has her own shit to deal with and Gemma who is an absolute angel and now I’m probably annoying you with my shit because you have a wife and a kid and--”

“Alright, I’m going to have to stop you there, Marceline,” Hen put her hands up to try and stop her from rambling as she got up from her spot on the couch to sit on the chair next to her. But upon doing so, she saw Marceline wince back and held her hands up to cover to face… oh dear. She quickly lowered her hands onto her lap. “You’re not annoying me with your shit. I’m glad you want to talk to me about your shit, I really am. And I highly doubt Nic is annoyed about hearing you talk too. You just want to be heard, and I’m willing to listen to you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered out like a child who was being scolded.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” the older woman gently admonished before slowly reaching forward to put her hand over Marceline’s.

She gave Hen a tiny smile as she squeezed her hand. “Thanks,”

Hen smiled softly. “Of course, but let’s start opening this wine, hm? Then we can talk about our boy Buck and how stupid he is. How about that?”

Marceline let a small laugh escape her lips. “Sure, that sounds fun. It’s better than moping alone. And hey, Karen can join us if she’d want and we can just shit on men because Buck lumps into the men category.”

Hen’s smile only grew at this and clapped her hands together. “Yes, this what we need. Okay, I’ll go get Karen who’s probably listening in from the kitchen if I’m going, to be honest, I’m sorry, she’s a little noisy,”

“I am not!” a voice indigently yelled from the kitchen.

“I rest my case.” Hen gestured to the kitchen doors before laughing softly. “Baby, come out here. Oh- wait! Bring some ice cream. We’re going full-on girl’s night right now.”

Karen then appeared with a few pints of ice cream and yet another bottle of wine and a big smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Karen, Hen’s wife. Sorry for eavesdropping earlier, but nothing ever interesting happens at our house at this time.”

Marceline grinned and waved a hand at Karen. “It’s okay, my emotional turmoil can be very entertaining. Nic would agree with you. And hello Karen, I’m Marceline, a co-worker of Hen’s, very nice to meet you.”

“Alright, enough with formalities.” Hen waved her hands around as she took a pint of rocky road ice cream and a spoon. “Let’s start shitting on men,”

“Okay, bet,” Marceline grinned as she got her own spoon and leaned forward to get a scoop of the rocky road ice cream from Hen’s pint. “Doesn’t it bother you when men…”

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In comparison to how Marceline has been feeling for the last couple of weeks, her mood has been significantly lighter for the past couple of days. Finally telling someone other than Nic about her feelings was good, and Hen was a great listener and advice giver. Plus, Karen seemed to take a quick liking to her and invited her over to dinner on Friday so that was great.

And today? Well, it’s going well so far. Marceline ran around the block early in the morning before taking Nic and Gemma to work and school. But no, not on her motorcycle as she’d prefer, but in Nic’s car since she had the day off. Before she had to pick up Gemma from school, she cleaned up around the apartment because yikes, it was a bit of a mess. Mostly due to Marceline, she’s a slob, which annoys the hell out of Nicolette, but yanno, doesn’t former girlfriend’s turned roommates and kind of co-parents have some things they don’t like about the other person?

So Marceline did the laundry, which included actually folding it, took the garbage out, and cleaned the bathroom just in time to pick up Gemma from school. Sadly, Nic had a late shift that would run till one a.m. and she said she would just take an Uber home.

And that meant that it was going to be a Marceline and Gemma day, which, in the six-year-old words were one of the best days ever. This was probably because Marceline was a bit more relaxed when it came to doing homework once they got home, but made sure to get it done before six, and allowed the young girl to eat ice cream as a snack.

She parked the car in one of the parking spots, before getting out and shutting the door. Marceline wore her red bomber jacket and blue-washed jeans, along with some black converses. She walked towards the back of the school, recalling how the pick-up was usually near the playground, and carefully weaved past other parents and children walking by.

“Auntie Marcel!” a high-pitched voice squeaked from the swings as Marceline walked closer to the playground.

The first responder grinned widely and jogged towards the swings. “There’s my little Gem!”

Gemma gave Marceline a big, toothy smile before jumping off the swings and running towards her. “Today was so cool, Marcel, I’m telling you. Science class was awesome, we made elephant toothpaste and I made mine purple!” she spat out facts about her day with so much enthusiasm that it was contagious.

“Whoa, really? That sounds pretty cool, Gem.” Marceline swiftly took the little girl’s sparkly pink backpack and put it over her shoulder as they walked towards Nic’s car. “Y’know, all I did was clean the apartment, nothing nearly as interesting as that.” she opened the backdoor for the six-year-old to get into and then placed her backpack on the floor.

Gemma giggled as she shook her head, getting into her booster seat and putting her seatbelt on all by herself. “That’s okay Auntie, we can have fun together. Maybe with… some ice cream?” she asked in her overtly sweet voice.

Marceline sighed and playfully rolled her two different colored eyes as she shut the backdoor and then sliding into her own seat. “I don’t know kiddo… your mom is kind of worried about your sugar intake lately.” she turned the key into the ignition as the car turned on and rumbled.

Gemma pouted, aghast at her Aunt’s reasoning. “But Mars! It’s our special ice cream trip, you always let me get ice cream right after school when you pick me up. It’s like-- tradition! Like how at Christmas we get a tree and put the decorations up together. You wouldn’t want Christmas without a tree, would you, Mars?”

She turned around in her seat and squinted at the six-year-old sitting behind her. “I feel like I’m being tricked. Did your mom put you up to this? Is she testing my boundaries as a guardian?”

“No! I just want my strawberry cheesecake ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and for us to sit under the tree while you drink your cookies and cream milkshake.” Gemma said in her matter-of-fact adult voice before continuing, “And then you help me climb the tree, sometimes you climb it with me, or wait at the bottom.”

Marceline was touched by how Gemma seemed to enjoy her time with Marceline, even if the time they spent together was limited at best. Not that she didn’t want to spend time with the little pipsqueak, but she tended to keep herself busy when she had days off. She’d leave the apartment, go to the bar, make out with someone at the bar and maybe go home with them. She’s already spent so much time bothering the Bishop girls for the past seven years with her existence and didn’t want to keep doing it on her days off.

“Fine, we’ll go, but--!”

“--Ha, butt,”

“We will go get ice cream, but you gotta super duper pinky promise me that you won’t tell your mom about it.” Marceline wagged her finger at the young girl before putting out her pinky finger. “We got a deal, munchkin?”

Gemma quickly nodded as she giggled softly. “Okay, Mars. We got a deal.” then she raised her little pinky finger and leaned forward in her seat before wrapping it around Marceline’s finger.

And then they were off to the ice cream shop jamming out to One Direction (along with some of the bandmate’s separate singles), a current favorite of the six-year-olds. After belting to Kiwi, they finally arrived at their destination. Gemma was so excited that she practically jumped out of the car before Marceline could even park.

When they walked up to the counter, Marceline sent the familiar teenage boy at the cash register a small smile. “Hey, Jerome,”

Jerome smiled back at her and leaned over the counter, displaying his freshly painted manicure that contrasted against his dark complexion. “Marcel! It’s so good to see you and this little gremlin,” he shot Gemma a playful grin as she stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed at the kid and started typing into the register, “You’re getting your usual, right? A medium strawberry shortcake in a dish with a cone on the side and rainbow sprinkles on top, and cookies and cream milkshake with whipped cream?” he shot off in his usual cheery voice.

“You know us too well, Jer,” Marceline grinned and nodded as she took out her wallet and handing him her card. After he took her card and swiped it, she took a good look at the teen in front of her while Gemma went off towards their usual picnic table under the big orange tree with Marceline’s phone to play some games while the adults talked, “So, how’s school going? Still thinking about going to NYU?”

He let out a loud groan and rolled his eyes dramatically, “Girl, I don’t know what I want to do with my life anymore, let me tell you.” But before he could continue, he shot of the order to his co-worker, Samantha who got to work on them and turned back around. “School is a pain in my behind as of late. I’m stressed out over this huge math test because I’m actually shit at math... and I still have to bust my ass at this job to save up for a place because I can’t keep staying at Alex’s house even though her parents say it’s fine.”

Marceline nodded carefully, hearing the clear annoyance and stress coming off of the eighteen-year-old. He had recently come out as transgender to his family, which immediately got him kicked out with nothing but the clothes on his back. Marceline had known Jerome before he came out through working at the ice cream shop throughout his high school years and became fast friends to the point where Marceline had gifted Jerome his first proper binder.

“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that, Jer.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, but are you sure I can’t do anything to help? You know Nic is more than willing to let you stay on our couch for a bit. She loves you too.”

All Marceline wanted to do was wrap Jerome in bubble wrap and keep him safe from the world, but knew that realistically, she can’t.

Jerome shrugged his shoulders before handing their order to them. “It’s alright, I’ll figure something out.”

She raised a skeptical brow at him. “Okay, but you have my number. Call me if you need anything, seriously.” She slowly took the tray from him.

“Will do, Marcel,” Jerome smiled lightly before blowing a kiss to her.

Marceline pretended to catch the kiss and chuckled softly as she turned around to walk over to Gemma. The six-year-old instantly put her phone down when Marceline slid next to her and gave her a big toothy smile. “Yay, ice cream time!”

Gemma proceeded to inhale her entire ice cream while Marceline sat close by, idly sipping her milkshake and scrolling mindlessly on her phone. Gemma then launched into a long story about how her adventures at recess and how Lucas Mullens got gum stuck in his hair. Marceline, ever-so enthralled by an enchanting tale told by a child, nodded carefully as she diligently listened along and saved her questions till the end (by Gemma’s request of course).

Then it was Marceline’s turn to share a story, but this time from work. She decided on a lighter tale to tell the six-year-old when her team was on a call about a lady who had a snake wrapped around her throat. Gemma was instantly hooked, staring at her co-parent with big brown eyes filled with wonder. But she was saddened when she was told that the snake died by decapitation due to an impulsive Buck, deeming her co-worker “a menace” to all snakes.

Marceline tried to keep a straight face.

“What do you mean Buck cut the snake’s head off? It’s still a living thing, it didn’t need to die,” Gemma pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m telling you, Auntie Mars, he’s a menace. I learned that in school today.”

“Oh you did, did you?” she grinned and nudged the little girl with her elbow.

“Mars?” an all-too-familiar voice said behind her.

Marceline whipped her head around for the source of the voice, praying that her ears had betrayed her. But when her brown and green eyes landed on him, she wanted to turn to dust on the spot. “Buck, hey,” she plastered a fake smile, raising her hand to wave at him as her eyes also caught the redhead standing beside him.

Buck walked towards them, causing Marceline to stand up and quickly run a hand through her hair because there was no way in hell she was prepared for this.

“Didn’t expect to see you guys here,” she said, nodding her head amicably in Abby’s direction.

“Ah, well, I’m taking Buck out for the afternoon,” Abby said with a soft smile as she looked at the man beside her.

“And I was craving ice cream,” Buck added as he looped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist.

Marceline did her very best to make sure her eyes wouldn’t twitch. “That’s great, I’d recommend the milkshakes,”

Then there was a tug on her elbow, causing Marceline to look away from the lovesick couple before her and the little girl next to her. “Who are they?” Gemma whispered a little too loud, causing both Buck and Abby to grin. But before Marceline could properly respond, Gemma gasped and pointed at Buck, “Mars, he’s like a giraffe!”

If she was looking at a mirror, Marceline knew that her face would be bright red with utter embarrassment. “Gemma- oh my god,” she facepalmed and sighed, not even daring to look in their direction because what the fuck. “This is my co-worker Buck, the giraffe, and Abby, the giraffe’s girlfriend. Buck, Abby, this is Gemma, Nic’s daughter, and a public menace.”

“Hi,” Buck and Abby waved at Gemma with gleaming smiles.

Gemma gave Marceline an odd look. “What? Buck’s tall, like a giraffe. That’s why I called him a giraffe- wait,” the six-year-old halted before turning to look directly at Buck with her eyes turning to slits. “You’re the one who cut that snake’s head off in the story my Auntie was telling me!”

Abby stifled her laughter as Marceline wished that the ground beneath her would swallow her whole.

Buck, to his credit, laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah, uh, that wasn’t my finest moment at the LAFD, but I do regret that.”

Clearly, he was alluding to what happened right after that call and how he slept with the caller and got caught by Bobby. That was a mess.

Gemma eyed Buck. “You’re lucky you’re a giraffe,” and sad that in the most serious tone Marceline has ever heard a six-year-old use.

Again, laughter erupted. And, again, Marceline wanted to disappear at the sight of Buck and Abby being so happy together.

God, feelings fucking suck.

@skyslowalking & @beelarson once again, this is for you

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dragons-bones · 4 years

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4, 15, 20, 28, 33, 35, 41 for the domesticity meme? it's a lot i'm very sorry i just Hunger For Domesticity

Domesticity is Good And Wonderful, I don’t blame you a bit, Cyan. :P Also tagging @smira-asah-xiv and @tehjai who both asked for number #15.

4. How did they start living together? Do they move? How do they choose the place?

Living arrangements were something that Synnove and Aymeric actively sat down and discussed very early on; they both had a very good sense that their relationship was It for them. Synnove was actually a little nervous about how the talk would go because she was very reluctant to sell her house; she’s owned the plot since about two or three years after the Calamity and had the house built to her specifications. It is very much her home. She loves Borel Manor, too, but she deeply loves La Noscea.

Aymeric, thankfully, was appalled at the very idea of her selling her own just to accommodate himself. Now, Ishgardian inheritance and property laws being the Byzantine headaches they are, he couldn’t sell the Manor even if he wanted to.

The compromise they hit upon was essentially splitting their time between homes. Their work being what it is, it’s easier for Synnove to still primarily live at the La Noscea house, and Aymeric at the Manor, but they will frequently come to stay with the other as time and work permits (and their friends/colleagues threaten them to take vacations). Synnove frequently shows up at the Manor during the semester to take a break from Guild nonsense or grade somewhere much quieter (while also sneaking in a cuddle or six), and Aymeric is absolutely blatant about using the La Noscea house as an escape during Parliament recesses so he isn’t ambushed at home by politicians.

15. What habits of the other drives them crazy?

The workaholism. Yes, they are incredibly aware of the hypocrisy of such, though their habits manifest in different ways: Aymeric of course hates how much Synnove mangles her sleep schedule (that he’s actually relieved when Scion business calls her away is awful, because it means she’s about to sleep like a normal person), and Synnove hates how Aymeric will get up in the middle of night to do work, or bring paperwork to bed with him.

In non-workaholic related annoyances:

Aymeric would not mind Synnove’s coffee addiction near as much if she would just use the same mug instead of constantly leaving them around the house and getting a fresh one for another cup. She is good about reusing her mugs when she’s reminded to do so, but she has to be reminded. (He is, perhaps, a little smug when she grumbles doing the evening round up of dishes and it takes her two or three trips to get all the used mugs into the kitchen to be washed.)

Synnove loves Aymeric’s voice, but he has a habit when it’s quiet enough to read his paperwork aloud, as the sound helps him concentrate. It’s not enough to be discernible, however; it’s a murmur, at best. Aymeric has no idea when he began doing it, but the lack of understandable words grates on Synnove’s nerves. Keeping the orchestrion on actually helps, since Aymeric only begins doing it during dead silence in the house, but Synnove will retreat to another room when Aymeric does paperwork and neither are in the mood to listen to music.

20. What do they watch on TV and do they fight for the remote?

(*dusts off Modern Eorzea AU ideas*)

They tend to enjoy a lot of documentaries: science (particularly fields Synnove doesn’t work with), nature, history, and certain niche interests. Cooking shows, mysteries, some comedies (they have a mutual fondness for Ul’dah 99), and historical dramas are also fun. Political dramas and a lot of action/sci-fi movies are off on the table as the former remind Aymeric too much of work and the latter Synnove frequently nitpicks for bad science. (She gives certain shows and movies a pass if they’re very blatant about Rule of Cool being the primary physical force at work.)

But there are two times of the year when the remote will be fought over: the spring and autumn months when the baseball and hockey seasons overlap. Synnove, math nerd that she is, is a huge baseball fan (and also plays on the faculty softball team at the University of Limsa Lominsa); Aymeric, as any good son of Coerthas, was born and raised playing hockey (and curling). Aymeric usually only cares about Ishgard Knights games (though Synnove can be wheedled into watching with him if they’re playing the Ala Mhigo Griffins, as the Limsa Lominsa Corsairs are, uh, kind of a joke), whereas Synnove is a devout fan of both the Limsa Lominsa Hammerheads and the Ala Mhigo Revolution. (The Ishgard Bishops are about the only Coerthan team worth a damn, but Aymeric still can’t bring himself to cheer for them after the Dragoons moved to Tailfeather.)

28. What kind of stuff can be found around their place?

Books of all kinds (science journals, political treatises, military history, fiction, cookbooks, etc.). Lots of loose leaf paper and quills (Aymeric) and chalk and graphite sticks (Synnove). Assorted mechanical contraptions Aymeric refuses to touch until Synnove confirms they aren’t explosive. The carbuncles’ toys (they are very good at putting them away at the end of the day, but please do watch your step when visiting at either home). Synnove’s goldsmithing tools and carbuncle-quality gems she cuts for the Guild. Coffee mugs. (”Synnove! Use the one in your hand for Halone’s sake!”) Feathers for fletching arrows and bottles of oil with rubbing rags for Naegling and Aymeric’s bow. A stack of grimoires wherein any of one of which could probably be used to beat someone to death (and one looks suspiciously dented already). A growing pile of unopened letters on the table next to the front door with the wax seals of various Ishgardian houses.

...I’m going to stop there because if I don’t we will be here all night.

33. How do they refer to the other in public? How do other people refer to the other? (i.e. “my partner”, “ask your father”, "dad and papa", "how’s your wife?“, etc)

Synnove and Aymeric will generally refer to one another as either “my beloved” or “my lover,” when speaking of the other; Aymeric will also refer to Synnove as “his lady.” The Ishgardian nobility will refer to Synnove as simply “the Warrior of Light” (with context making it obvious they mean Synnove specifically) for politeness’s sake; Count Edmont and the Temple Knights are the only ones who will refer to Synnove as “his lady.” The Squad will just flat out call Aymeric “her boyfriend,” even if Synnove herself thinks that terminology is too juvenile. Synnove’s co-workers at the Guild call him “her beau” or “that knight of yours.”

35. How often do they go on dates?

Not very; with how often they’re consumed by work, staying in tends to be their preferred way of spending time with one another. That being said, sometimes they both get antsy to do something; even if they’re in Ishgard when that happens, they’ll more than likely teleport to Limsa Lominsa, as it has a much livelier night life, and Lominsans are more likely to mind their own business when one of their resident Warriors of Life is meandering through the city with a handsome man on her arm.

Depending on their mood, dinner will be either at the Bismarck if they’d like something a little fancier to eat, the Drowning Wench if they’re more interested in good whiskey with their fish stew, or one of the myriad cafes for Ala Mhigan or Gridanian or Thavnairian. Afterwards, it would either be stay at the Wench to people watch and enjoy the open stage Baderon keeps for performance-minded adventurers to show off; head over to a free play or concert at the Aftcastle or Anchor Yard put on by one of the theater companies; or, if they really need the laugh, a show at one of the bawdy houses.

41. What would they do if the other was hurt?

Well, as we know on two separate occasions, when Aymeric gets hurt, Synnove gets angry. Usually at whomever hurt him, sometimes also at him if he was being “a fucking moron” about it. If it’s a combat situation, well, the enemy had better start running, because it is Dreadwyrm Protocols time.

(Raubahn is exceedingly grateful, after the first time he sees Synnove Greywolfe turn her ruby carbuncle into Demi-Bahamut during the Battle of Ala Mhigo, that she couldn’t do that during the Grand Melee.)

If it’s not a combat situation, however, Synnove is likely to fretting mother hen. Aymeric, too, though with less clucking and more soothing humming if it was something like a kitchen accident. (He is likely to be less sympathetic if it’s an injury related to an experiment, because Synnove is supposed to be smarter than that.)

For a combat-related injury, Aymeric is generally going to be less, ah, violent than Synnove and more deeply concerned, as Synnove is more than capable of holding her own in combat and has her three sisters-by-choice at her side. Most often, if her injuries are more related to aether shock and having to go all out in combat, he’ll assist in ensuring she drinks her aether syrup and recovers from depleting her aether reserves so thoroughly.

Of course, there was his reaction to hearing about Synnove’s injuries from the Battle of Rhalgr’s Reach. Lucia and Handeloup do not talk about it. Not even Rereha could get the details out of them; all she knows is that the two managed to get Aymeric to an empty salle, locked the door, and stood guard to make sure no one tried to get in, and that the repair bill was enormous.

(Big Fat Domesticity Meme for Aymeric & Synnove)

#to-the-voiceless #dt answers things #meme stuff #final fantasy xiv #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #oc: synnove greywolfe #thank you for the ask! :D #see also: me desperately trying not to devolve into naming every team in eorzean major league baseball

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mcgnto · 4 years

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Have you ever noticed that ( ERIK LEHNSHERR ) from the ( MARVEL UNIVERSE ) looks a lot like ( MICHAEL FASSBENDER )? But ( HE ) also go/goes by ( MAGNETO ). Having the ability of ( MAGNETISM MANIPULATION & UNWAVERING LOYALTY TO HIS CAUSE ) sure makes them a force to be reckoned with. Rumour has it they are ( 44 ) and is working as a ( LEADER OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF MUTANTS )

hey there, hi there, ho there !! i’m c, and i’m bringing my babies erik lehnsherr && grant ward to you about 400 years later. life snatched me but here i am finally. i’m terrible at remembering to respond to tumblr messages so if you’d like to plot, you can hit me up @ serial killer of kisses#0440

𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊'𝖘 𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒?

timeline wise, erik is pulled somewhere post days of future past and early into apocalypse. given that the x-men were constantly fucking up their timelines and futures, he’s from an alternate timeline. which one? good question. we’ll pretend we know and just smile and nod. either way, this isn’t his timeline and it definitely isn’t the world / year he left behind so he’s going to be culture-shocked by 2020.

the last thing he really remembers is his daughter’s death and apocalypse strengthening his powers to become a horseman. so suffice to say, he’s simmering with rage and is very broken. he still hates humans, maybe more-so than ever before, and he thinks they’ll always be a plague — never see them as equals — and their extinction is the only way to ensure their kind survives. he’s an extremist and his methods are questionable as hell but he’s not entirely wrong.

this quote, in my opinion, sums up erik to a t:

“ that you're wrong. you think you're right. and that makes you dangerous."

𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖌𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉

erik lehnsherr, also known as magneto, is a canon character from the x-men. my version of him follows the x-men first class timeline. you can read more about him here on the wiki but i’ll give you a brief overview.

he was born in dusseldorf, germany, into a middle-class jewish family. his father was a decorated WWI veteran but that wasn’t enough to save them from the struggles of discrimination when the nazi’s started rising to power. the family moved to poland shortly after he was born but were separated at the auschwitz concentration camps when he was fourteen. erik’s powers first manifested when he ran towards one of the gates — trying to get to it before they closed as he was forced to watch his parents get ripped away from him. the metal warped and twisted as the soldiers grabbed him, reports of which were made to dr. schmidt. instead of being sent out with the other children, erik was taken to the medical wing. his powers were exploited and often used against him, dr. schmidt focusing in on his anger and using it to control his powers. ( his mother died because he couldn’t move a simple coin with his abilities. in grief, fury washing over him, he destroyed everything in the room and murdered all of the guards. ) he was experimented on for years, schmidt weaponizing his anger, and when he was finally free he spent years trying to track down the man responsible for his pain and suffering.

by the time he finds shaw, his intentions are clear. he’ll kill him by any means necessary, even if it means his own death. it’s charles xavier that saves him from drowning in his efforts to sink shaw’s submarine, the professor dragging him up out of the water. though erik never really trusted the CIA, he agreed to help charles with some of the other mutants they’d found — to help them hone their abilities, and give them a place they belonged. he grew to care about charles and these other mutants, respected them even, but his ambitions always came first. he also feared that a mutant holocaust was an inevitability and his fear kept him from truly trusting others. finally, when he confronted shaw, who shared a vision of a world led by mutants, he found he agreed — but he couldn’t allow the man to live. he murdered him slowly, much to charles’ horror. with the soviet union and the united states teaming up against mutants, erik was prepared to kill them all. so much for preventing the cuban missile crisis. as charles and erik were fighting, rolling around on the ground as both tried to get the upper hand, a CIA agent shot at erik and he deflected one of the bullets. a stray bullet ricocheted and hit charles’ spine, paralyzing him. unable to comprehend the pain he’d caused someone he loved — and knowing their interests no longer aligned — erik and several of the other mutants left to start the first incarnation of the brotherhood of mutants. a family was divided like after a messy divorce.

from there, we don’t know a lot about what happened with erik until days of future past picks back up. we know he was arrested and detained in the pentagon by 1973. he allegedly curved a bullet that killed JFK. they break him out of prison to help try and save the world and inadvertently meet his timeline’s version of pietro ‘peter’ maximoff. he’s erik’s son, but he never discovers this information. to this day, he doesn’t know the truth. in truth, erik had been trying to save JFK — who was a mutant — but unfortunately he wasn’t able to. trask, who created the mutant detecting machines in the future, had been killing off mutants one by one. many of their former students, people they cared about, had died as a result of it. tortured, too. so suffice to say, both erik and charles thought the other had abandoned them / failed them and it was messy. he agrees to try and help them stop the future from happening, in the interest of saving more mutant lives, but does try to kill mystique when their plans start going awry. he fails and earns more distrust both from charles and the nation. yes, he went all evil villain and did a monologue on live tv. he’s that bitch. he fully intends on killing trask but mystique, who changes her mind thanks to charles’ influence, shoots him. it grazes his neck, just enough to garner his attention, but it’s enough to give her the opportunity to knock the helmet from his head. in the end, after his abilities are used by charles to free himself, he flees. ya yeet.

at some point after this, he moves to poland and decides to live among the humans. he meets a woman named magda when he’s living as henryk gurzsky and they have a daughter named nina. he’s seemingly happy with his little family, working at the factory, until an act of kindness turns the tides against him. he uses his abilities to save a co-worker and someone reports him. police show up without any metal to confront him outside their house. nina, terrified and young much like erik was when his powers manifested, had the power to control nature and had birds attack the police. one of the officers was trying to shoot the birds and an arrow struck nina and her mother magda instead. erik, in his grief, used the metal locket around his daughter’s neck to kill every single police officer in the clearing and then dropped to his knees to mourn the loss of his family.

en sabah nur, aka apocalypse, finds erik shortly after this. he’s at the factory, about to murder all of the workers who allowed this tragedy to happen, when en sabah nur takes his revenge for him. the god then takes him to auschwitz and strengthens his mutant abilities to give him the power needed to destroy it. he agrees to be a horseman, to join en sabah nur in bringing about the apocalypse. shortly after this happens, he goes to sleep and wakes up in this timeline in 2020. he doesn’t know who’s done it, or it was something the x-men did to try and stop the apocalypse, but he’s livid and probably wants to go home. there’s nothing here for him — no revenge, no purpose, so if he can’t ... catch him starting up the brotherhood again and waging war on humankind again.

𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞

erik carries a lot of anger around with him. it’s the trauma, the grief, and the after-effects of years of abuse. he knows best how to function when he’s angry, feels it gives him direction, and thinks that happiness leads to vulnerability. he thinks now that if he cares for someone, let’s them get close, there’s a possibility he will hurt them or they will get hurt because of them. his abilities work best when he’s angry, almost like he’s been conditioned that way, so he finds he’s most effective when he gives into the anger.

at the end of the day, his hatred is directly linked to fear. he fears that mutants will be persecuted for being different, for not living up to what humans feel is normal, and that they’ll be experimented on or killed if discovered. he’s seen firsthand what a genocide looks like and because of that fears that another will happen if they’re not carefull. again, he’s not wrong.

𝖆𝖇𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖎𝖊𝖘

he’s a class 4 mutant who can generate and manipulate magnetic fields. you can read more about his abilities on the wiki here but i’ll give you some examples.

magnetogenesis: the ability to create magnetic fields. magnetokinesis: the ability to control magnetic fields. ferrokinesis: the ability to control metal. ( thanks to apocalypse, he can now control metals found in the earth. )

#thephoenixintro #tw: canon mentions of child internment / concentration camps #tw: child abuse #tw: experimentation #tw: murder #tw: character death - canon characters #tw: grief #idk man erik's life sucks #general tw for tragedy

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nekoabi · 5 years

Text

On the Verge of a Heartbreak - Epilogue

Here it is, the monster of an epilogue... that took two days to write... because I have no self control... *falls flat on her face* Well, yeah. I hope you guys enjoy this! Gonna do a last promo for my writing blog that I’ll officially start posting to with the next fic: @nekoabiwrites

AU: Human, (post) School Pairing: Moxiety, OC/OC Words: 9621 (ye it’s long) Warnings: Mention of alcohol and drunkenness, descriptive panic attack, Roman gets mad a few times, yelling, bad life habits. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Roman Ashworth is loving his life, or at least... he thinks he is.

Roman Ashworth was happy with his life. He was perfectly content with his job and his lifestyle. Everyone at his job was too stuffy and uptight, completely not his type of people. He preferred to leave them to their own devices, having always turned down their invitations to spend time together after work until they finally got the message. Instead, Roman would go back to his empty apartment, take a few hours to wash off the boring 9 to 5 desk job costume and replace it with a perfect party look, go out to one of the many clubs, and then just dance and drink the night away.

He had friends, though. While at work, he’d talk with his co-workers and they were always so pleased to be around him. At the many clubs, Roman was close to all of the security and bar staff, so clearly they were friends. He even spoke to his old school friend, Remy, on occasion. Yes, Roman Ashworth’s life was going just the way he wanted it to.

That was until one day, when all the things he’d been running from and pushing to the back of his mind came crashing down around him.

It all started when he got a message from Remy, asking to meet at their usual spot that evening. Roman was utterly delighted that his friend wanted to spend some time together, would be a nice change from the usual day-to-day life. So, that night he cut his partying short and headed to their usual meeting point – a small local diner. Upon entering, Roman was easily able to pick out his friend due to the signature leather jacket and the fact there were only three others in the diner at the time.

Roman slid into the seat opposite of Remy with an exaggerated sigh, “Man, I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted!”

In front of him, Remy simply sipped loudly through the straw between his teeth. He kept the sound going for a few seconds for effect, but eventually let it pop out of his mouth, “You’re half an hour late.”

Roman scoffed, “I’m sorry, I’m just such a busy guy. I’m sure you know how it is.”

Remy seemed to consider fighting the point for a moment, but then clearly thought better. He shook his head and took another long drink before speaking again, “I have something for you, Ro. Something from your brother.”

At the mention of his family member, Roman immediately went on the defensive. Originally, he’d looked excited at the mention of receiving something, but that quickly went out the window. Roman crossed his arms and pouted, “I don’t remember having a brother.”

Remy sighed, already tired of Roman’s game, “Look, do you want to know what it is or not, because I can throw it away.”

“No, I wanna see it so I can throw it away if I want to.”

Remy rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the plain envelope and placed it in the centre of the table, within reach of them both and stared at Roman. Slowly, the man leant back in his chair and seemed to relax entirely, as if a weight he was carrying was dropped off of his shoulders. He casually sipped at his drink once more, watching Roman carefully as he grabbed the envelope.

Roman purposefully took his time opening the envelope. He could feel Remy watching him, even after the man had flicked his sunglasses down, and Roman really didn’t feel like playing up to his friend’s expectations. It was hard, but he managed to accomplish his goal and slowly took the piece of thick paper out of its holder, flipping it open fairly quickly.

His heart stopped as he saw what was, unmistakably, a wedding invitation.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Roman turned the paper towards Remy, pointing to it accusingly, “Because it’s not very funny.”

Remy pulled his sunglasses down a little to make eye contact with Roman, giving the man an opportunity to show his exasperation. “No, Roman, it’s not a joke. It’s a real wedding invitation from your real brother.”

“I already told you, I don’t have a brother.” Roman huffed. He opted to ignore the continued disdainful look from his friend and focus on the invite itself. It was proudly proclaiming the wedding of his former brother and his fiancé, who just happened to be the same person from years back. The silver detailing was intricate, yet also very simple as it stuck mostly to the border of the letter. Roman read the words again and again, trying to come up with anything else to say.

He didn’t want to go to this wedding. He didn’t want to see the man who was supposed to be his brother and the kid who he’d lost years ago. He didn’t want to see who he was marrying and see them both looking happy once more. He didn’t want to go because he’d likely have to see the other’s family and deal with all of them, which meant seeing… him.

“Ugh.” Roman threw the paper down onto the table and pushed it towards Remy, “I’ve thought about it and I’m totally not going. I’d have to see Logan again. I am not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me and gloating in my face about how great he is and how much better his life is with his two brothers.” Roman pretended to puke, sticking a finger into his opened mouth.

Across the table, Remy had had enough. He roughly slammed the recyclable cup he was sipping out of against the table, not making a loud sound but getting his point across and managing to get Roman’s full attention.

“See? This-” Remy flicked his finger up and down Roman’s body, “-is the problem here. You.”

Roman spluttered, clearly offended. He went to speak but Remy took the sunglasses off of his face and snapped the arms shut, “I wasn’t finished.” Remy said, his voice somehow both calm and threatening at the same time.

“You are still holding onto the past, Roman. You tell me every time we meet up that you’re over it, that you’re done with all that, but look at you. You’re throwing away an invite to a wedding because you don’t wanna see one person. One person you’ve put characteristics onto that are not even a part of them.” Remy sat up straight for the first time, locking eyes with Roman, “How do I know that? Because I’ve met with them. I’ve met with them all, and guess what? They’re not dicks. They never were dicks.”

Roman was slowly getting angry. How could his friend turn on him like that?! “That’s not fair, Rem! I thought you were on my side!”

“OH. MY. GOD.” Remy threw his hands into the air, silencing Roman. The few people still around in the diner turned to see what was going on, “There are no sides, Roman. There have never been sides to choose. You made your own problems by focusing all your attention on ruining one guy’s life, and you are still so blind to all the shit you’ve caused.”

“Luckily, they’ve all been able to move on without you and they’re probably better for it. Do you wonder why you’re always alone, going out to clubs to dance with strangers, drinking the night away?” Remy asked rhetorically, “It’s because you’re unable to make friends. You never learned how.”

“That’s a lie! I-” Roman started to respond but Remy cut him off again, standing up out of his chair which caused it to make a horrible screech as it slid back.

“No, it’s not, Ro. You have no friends at work, which you happily gloat about because ‘they’re no fun’. You have no friends outside of work because all you do is go out and party with strangers who forget your name the next day because all of them are so drunk. You have half a friend, Roman Ashworth, and that is me.”

“Half a friend…?” Roman asked meekly, a little scared at Remy’s behaviour.

“Yeah, half a friend. Because I am getting sick and tired of all your high and mighty behaviour. You’re not better than anyone else, sweetheart. You’re actually worse off than most. And, if you keep this up, you’re going to lose that half as well, because I am gradually losing hope for you. I used to sometimes be able to see that kid I used to be friends with, the kid that was fun and wasn’t obsessed with himself, wasn’t obsessed with some other kid that had literally no interest in fighting him, and I’m really starting to lose sight of him.” Remy plucked his cup back up and made to head towards the door but stopped just as he turned his back to Roman, “If you ever start to wake up and see the destruction you’ve caused, call me. Or-” He reached back into his jacket again and pulled out a second envelope, this one noticeably thicker than the one he’d handed to Roman. He held it between two fingers, showing the other man that his name was written on the outside, “-I might see you at the reception.”

With that, Remy walked out the door of the diner.

Roman was left alone with the invitation still staring him in the face, along with the few other customers who were watching him with interest. Quickly, he grabbed the invite and walked back to his apartment.

He was absolutely furious that Remy would even say such things to him. How dare he insinuate that Roman was one of the worst people he knew! How dare he say that he was only ‘half a friend’ to Roman now! How dare he even try and compare Roman to those who’d dropped him so easily all those years back.

Roman stormed around his apartment for a while, thinking about what to do. “C’mon, Roman. Think. You just have to prove that he’s wrong about you.” He muttered to himself as he paced frantically.

Then he had the most brilliant idea he’d ever had. Roman dove for his laptop that rested on the small coffee table and switched it on as he took a seat on the couch. He drummed his fingers on the edge, a giddy sense of glee filling him. If Remy was so sure that everyone else was having a great time with their ‘friends’ and whatever, then Roman was just going to have to find evidence that he was wrong.

Roman searched through his social media in order to find either Patton or his fiancé. He first found the fiancé’s but then realised that he was blocked by the profile holder. Roman took offense and quickly moved to Patton’s, more determined than ever to find proof that their lives were not as perfect as Remy made them out to be.

“Oh, you were always too trusting, Patton…” Roman spoke low, as if he were taunting the statue of the man that resided in the profile picture. He wasn’t blocked here, he was even still a friend, which gave him access to all he could possibly want to find. “Let’s see what you have on here, shall we?” Roman spoke to himself as he began to scroll through the pictures Patton had posted over the years.

This trawling through the other man’s pictures and memories did not have the desired effect on Roman, however. Instead of finding pictures where they seemed to be faking their amazing life and great friends, Roman was being greeted by images that just proved Remy’s point. He searched desperately, trying so hard to find evidence to his theory, but ultimately came up short. He could reason out all the smiles with negative ideas as much as he liked, but there was no water to any of it.

Slowly, Roman started to give up hope and just began to click through the pictures. He’d not seen his little brother in well over 7 years, and the absence was suddenly hitting him hard. He’d gone all the way back to pictures that had been taken a little after the day they moved away from the old neighbourhood and was watching the young man grow into the adult he was today.

Roman clicked through picture after picture showing his daily college life; his dorm room, all the friends he was making, his relationship with his now fiancé. Everything looked idyllic and perfect.

Now, he wasn’t an idiot. Roman knew deep down that this was still an idealised version of Patton’s life, but there just had to be some truth behind it, especially as every photo was within a few days of each other.

He slapped the lid of the laptop shut in frustration. Roman decided to get some rest, he’d be able to focus better tomorrow anyway, and he would definitely be able to find something that proved his point.

The next couple of weeks went by in a blur of usual mundanity for the most part, though Roman was now hyper aware of how his co-workers acted around him. They seemed to grow quiet as he approached, either beginning to talk in hushed whispers or just entirely going silent. Before he'd had that talk with Remy, Roman saw these behaviours as invitations for him to start his own conversations with the groups he was passing by, but now he wasn’t so sure. Roman attempted to brush this off as a random coincidence and go about his day as normal, but the idea kept nagging at the back of his mind.

At the end of each day, he was more than ready to go about his usual evening routine and just go have some fun. Roman forgot about the social media scrolling and just did what he always did. He went out, got drunk and had a great time with some strangers, but one day, he left before the club closed because he still couldn’t get the odd nagging from his mind.

Roman huffed as he walked through the door to his apartment, kicking off his shoes roughly. He went to the bathroom to remove his makeup and his eyes caught the laptop still sitting on the coffee table where he’d left it weeks prior. He paused, considering it for a second before ignoring it and reaching for the makeup remover. It was only once he had fully cleansed his face that he looked at the piece of technology again.

Realising he’d never be able to sleep if he didn’t at least have a look, Roman threw himself onto the couch and flipped open the laptop. As he waited for it to load, he pulled out his phone and looked at his own profile.

He felt like he needed to compare himself, really visualise the difference that Remy had been talking about in order to understand it because he really wasn’t seeing it right now. His heart sank, and his stomach ached as he realised that every picture he had was usually of him alone; selfies of him in dark clubs or his own apartment. The ones that had other people in them were of people he didn’t know the names of or were of him and Remy. It wasn’t until he went back to his high school pictures that he was able to see photos of himself with people he could easily recognise and name.

Roman started to feel queasy so he threw his phone to the side and focused on getting back to Patton’s profile on his laptop. More pictures went by as he spent the next hour looking at them. Photos from holidays and vacations with his fiancé and their family, photos from date nights and anniversaries, photos of people Roman could vaguely recognise from their high school days. But then came the pictures from the last Christmas that had gone by.

The first was like most Christmas pictures he’d already seen on his travels through Patton’s life, showing him wearing a large festive jumper and his fiancé begrudgingly wearing one of their own. The next ones were what hit Roman the hardest.

He saw his parents. With his little brother. And without him.

Roman hadn’t realised that he’d not only dropped his little brother all those years ago but had also lost contact with his parents. He hadn’t spoken to them since he’d decided to move away to the city, figuring that he didn’t need to. Each and every time they’d invited him home, he’d been busy – or so he’d fooled himself into thinking. And they’d stopped trying after all these years. Patton had done the same back then, having moved away so suddenly and not really wanting anything to do with their parents, but he’d clearly patched up the relationship somewhat. It hurt to see this, see himself excluded from what could be seen as any normal family picture. The next one hurt even more. It was both of the families, sitting together for a posed picture. He finally got to see Logan’s face for the first time in years. He could seem him happy, alongside not only his parents, but also Roman’s own parents.

Roman once again slammed the laptop shut and left it to fall into sleep mode. He moved into his bedroom and attempted to fall asleep, trying to rid his mind of the image he’d just seen. The next day, he didn’t even feel like going out. He instead decided to sit on his couch and binge some TV. He tucked the laptop away in a place he couldn’t see it, trying to remove the temptation to torture himself some more.

This went on for another week, just Roman working all day and then sitting in front of his TV until he eventually passed out from exhaustion. All the while, he was cursing everyone he used to know, especially Remy. The man was supposed to be his friend and yet he’d cursed him like this, forced him somehow to look at all of those pictures and make him feel the worst he’d ever felt in his entire life.

It wasn’t until one of his co-workers approached him that Friday did Roman finally realise something was terribly wrong with his life.

Roman had almost fallen asleep as his desk due to his entire week involving him passing out at around 1am after laying on the couch for hours. So, when the meek young employee had approached and checked if he was okay, Roman was definitely startled.

No one at work had spoken to him so kindly in a long time. “I was just a little worried.” The young worker said, “You’re usually full of energy and life, but recently you’ve looked a little worse for wear and I just wanted to make sure you were okay…”

Roman awkwardly assured his co-worker that he was okay, or was at least going to be soon, still a little thrown off by the nice gesture. It felt good to be thought about by someone. Later, during his lunch break, he managed to catch up to the other co-worker and ask if they were sitting with anyone, before taking up a seat at the same table in the café.

That lunch had been the most enjoyable in a long time. Roman wasn’t sat at his desk alone or out somewhere by himself, he was laughing and learning about someone else. Later that day, he was still hung up on it and decided to pull out the laptop again.

He didn’t want to look at pictures any more, Roman decided as he unlocked the laptop once more. He moved back to the main page of Patton’s profile and scrolled a little through his other posts, reading the most recent ones that all seemed to be related to his upcoming wedding.

Roman paused for a second when he saw one that had a couple of names he recognised. Patton had made a post a few weeks back, talking about how his fiancé’s brother and his fiancé’s best friend had argued over who would be the best man, and both of them were tagged. Roman hesitantly clicked on the best friend’s name, just curious to see how he was doing.

There was some zing of joy that managed to sneak through the ever-present gloom that was filling Roman’s body as he saw that the old friend of his was doing well. He scrolled through the pictures for a moment, trying to figure out why he recognised the girl that was in a lot of the photos before giving up and heading back to Patton’s own page.

Roman paused as a thought entered his head. Remy had said he’d spoken to the couple, right? Did that mean…?

Without even really giving a single thought to the consequences of his actions, Roman looked at Remy’s profile. It was then that his world really shattered around him. Remy had other friends, Remy looked happy. Roman had very few memories where Remy was as happy as he looked in these pictures. He scrolled through a few, noting that the old friend he was previously looking at featured in some of the pictures along with the girl.

The laptop was quietly shut and placed back on the table. Roman was left in the dark of his apartment. It was now nearly midnight. This would usually be when he’d be in his element in the clubs, and here he was, sat alone. He reflected on everything he’d seen over the past weeks, slowly letting everything add up in his head.

He really did have no friends. He did nothing but work and party. He went to the clubs to fulfil that sense of companionship with drunken strangers who he forgot the names of before they’d even parted ways. He brushed off the invites to hang out with his co-workers and his family, which had made them start to ignore him. He’d deluded himself into thinking this was the best way to live his life, that he was free from all restraints and was doing exactly what he wanted. But those pictures told a different story.

Roman knew he wanted what those pictures had all shown him. He wanted friends, he wanted to have relationships that meant something. He wanted to get his family back, he wanted to laugh and cry with them and see them happy. He was starting to get that back from the singular lunch experience he’d just had, but that was only a taste – and Roman realised he’d been craving it for years now.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands, “What have I done…?” Roman once again spoke to the empty air, as if maybe some voice would respond to him. As his hands fell away and he stood to get a drink, the white of the wedding invite caught his eye. He’d dropped it onto the small table just outside of the kitchen area, thinking he’d throw it away eventually, but something was stopping him.

Just then, Remy’s voice rang through his head, “If you ever start to wake up and see the destruction you’ve caused, call me.”

Without thinking through the consequences, Roman reached for his phone and called Remy’s number. It rang for what felt like forever before Remy finally picked up.

“What?” came the sleepy voice. Roman laughed to himself; he’d forgotten that Remy was always cranky when someone interrupted his sleep. “Look, if you called to just laugh at me, coul-”

“I think we need to talk, Rem.” Roman quickly responded, before Remy could finish his thought, “I think… I need your help.”

There was a moment of silence, only broken by the slight rustling on the other end of the phone line. Roman fiddled with the ripped flap of the invitation’s envelope that was still sat underneath it on the table as he waited for Remy’s response.

“Okay. But we’re meeting late, I need my beauty sleep. Perfection like this doesn’t happen without good rest.”

Roman was able to hold back his laughter as his nervous energy poured out from him, “Sure thing. How about 5pm?”

“Uh, no, my terms. 8 or later.”

“Demanding as usual. Fine, 8.”

“You can’t talk shit.”

“Uh huh, sure. See you tomorrow, Rem.”

With that, they both hung up. Roman sighed and decided to head to bed, finding that rest came easier that night than any before.

----

Roman nervously tapped his foot as he checked the time on his phone for the umpteenth time since he’d sat down in their usual seats at the diner. It was now getting close to 8:45 and Remy had still not turned up or messaged him. Roman had already made his way through several drinks as his throat kept drying up.

As Roman was beginning to type out a message to Remy in order to check if he was actually coming, the man in question strolled through the door casually and slipped into a seat opposite.

“Sorry, I’m late. I’m just so busy… I’m sure you’d understand.” Remy flippantly stated, exaggeratedly gesturing and throwing his legs up onto the empty chair beside him.

Roman breathed out a self-conscious laugh at having his own words thrown back at him, “Okay, I deserved that…”

“Oh no, that’s just the beginning, darling. I have plenty more where that came from.” Remy pulled out his phone and opened one of the notes pages, “Should I list them for you?”

“Nah, surprise me next time.” Roman pushed the phone down. A moment of silence passed as Remy stared at Roman through his sunglasses, it took that whole time for Roman to realise his friend was waiting for him to say his piece.

He took a deep breath and began to speak, “I wanted to meet you to say I’m sorry for how shitty I’ve been. This whole month has been fucking torture because what you said has been playing on my mind, which made me see the truth. It made me realise I’ve just been pretending, pushing away the negative thoughts and making everything positive. I’ve been so focused on me, and I haven’t looked at anyone else around.” Roman thought back to the co-worker he’d spent lunch with the day before and smiled, “But now I realise that I need to be better. I need to listen to people, not just brush them off all the time… because that’s how I end up with no one in the long run. I figured the best person to start with in order to make myself better was you, Rem. You’ve been my friend for years, you’re the only one I’m still in contact with from back then and you never actually gave up on me, no matter how much I ignored you or frustrated you. I feel like I need to thank you and apologise a hundred times over before I’ve truly made up for all the shit I put you through, but I hope this is, at least, a good place to start…”

Remy was silently sipping at the drink in his hand. He said nothing, even after it was clear Roman was done. He let a minute go by, looking as though he was considering everything Roman had just poured out to him. “You’re right.”

“Huh?” Roman almost jumped as the man opposite suddenly spoke.

“You really do have to apologise a hundred times.”

Roman flicked his eyes around the diner. He was unsure if Remy had accepted his initial apology or not. He waited in yet more silence as Remy took another extended drink through the straw that was perpetually between his lips.

“…but I guess this is a good enough start.”

Finally, the cup was placed on the table and Remy smiled his half smile at him. Roman felt his entire body relax. He’d been so god damn tense this whole time without even really noticing it. He felt like laughing maniacally out of relief, but managed to reign himself in before talking, “Thanks, Remy.”

“That’s two.”

“Fuck... you’re actually going to keep count aren’t you?” Roman rested his forehead against the table, groaning.

“You know it, hon.”

“Great.”

“So, who’s next on your list?” Remy asked, changing the subject.

Roman raised his head and sighed, “See, I’m not sure exactly who I need to apologise to. Like, I know I should say it to my family and Patton’s fiancé’s family and everything, but who else?”

“Wow, you really do need my help. Alright,” Remy finally moved his sunglasses off of his face. He rested them up on top of his head, so he could look Roman dead in the eyes, “Let’s get started with this list.”

For the next two hours, the two friends sat and figured out a ranked list of people who Roman needed to apologise to. It started with the easier and geographically closest ones for Roman to handle, so he’d get the hang of what he needed to say and how to say it in a way that wasn’t awful. Remy listed off everyone he could think of on the top of his head before grabbing Roman’s phone and scrolling through his contacts and his social media. They left the obvious ones until last.

“So, when do you think you’ll speak to them?” Remy casually asked, as they’d now reached his family members.

Roman shrugged, “I dunno… Depends how quickly I get through the rest of these?” He said, clearly unsure of himself.

Remy raised an eyebrow, “Really? You can’t think of any time at all when you’d be able to see them all?”

“But… wouldn’t that be… kinda gross to do? Bring it all back up on their wedding day?” Roman was trying his hardest to think of a better time, but nothing was coming. After the wedding would be awful and he really only had two options before that: skipping out on their invite to the wedding and then showing his face after that when they would have already probably made a decision about him due to his absence, or turn up at the wedding, actively avoid interacting with anyone that might possibly recognise him but then that would also make it seem like he’d not cared to show up at all even though he had.

He began to search for even the smallest reason not to turn up, “Like, I don’t wanna start a fight on their wedding day, Rem. It would be bad.”

“Start a fight? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Well, y’know… me and Logan haven’t gotten along and-”

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Remy groaned loudly, rolling his eyes back. “Roman, come on. Are you still stuck on him? Just let it go, bitch. Oh my god. I don’t even know what he did to make you hate him so much, but it better be something fucking traumatic as hell or else I’m walking out of here.”

Roman shut his mouth. If he was completely honest with himself, he didn’t even remember what Logan had done all those years ago. He’d just ended up telling himself and everyone who asked that he was ‘just an uptight, controlling asshole’, but that still didn’t mean that Logan was in the clear. Also, yeah, he was kinda a huge dick to Logan and stuff, but that didn’t really matter anymore. He hadn’t seen the guy in years, so really it didn’t have anything to do with what he was currently trying to figure out.

“Wait.” Remy was currently reading his mind, if his facial expression was anything to go by when Roman looked back up, “You don’t even realise what you really did, do you?”

“Rem, please, just tell me stuff. Don’t ask questions like that… I can’t.” Roman whined, almost pleading with his friend.

Remy silently pulled out his own phone again. He scrolled through something that Roman couldn’t see from the angle he was currently sat. It was only once the phone was slid across to him that he was able to see that it was a social media chat. What he read caused his stomach to churn.

Message after message sent between Patton and Remy went by. He read all their discussions, from their first correspondence where they’d lamented the loss of their friend and brother, up until their recent talk about asking him to come to the wedding.

“Oh, that’s not all.” Remy plainly said as Roman attempted to push the phone back to its owner. Another chat was opened, this time with Reggie. He scrolled back up to a specific message before letting Roman read again.

This time all the messages described what had happened once Roman had left the school and the effect he’d been having on his little brother and their friends. He was only able to get to the messages that described what he’d done on that fateful day in the park before Roman had to stop himself before he puked.

“Okay. Okay. I get it. Just. Stop showing it to me.” Roman cried out, leaning against the back of the chair in an attempt to get as far away as he could from the phone screen.

“Do you really get it, Roman?” Remy asked, his voice measured and serious. “Do you get what you did? What your actions caused? Because you better understand before you even think about seeing any of them again.”

Roman swallowed hard and tried to calm himself down. It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d been such a dominant source of anxiety and stress for his little brother and his friends. He’d never stopped and thought about how his obsession with proving Logan was somehow worse than him and taking him down a peg would even remotely cause such changes. He’d absolutely never thought that he would actually have been the source of arguments and disagreements. Something inside of him was thrashing about, yelling at him and punishing him. Maybe it was his morality that had finally been released from its cage after all these years.

He didn’t even realise he was losing himself to it all until a hand rested on his shoulder and Remy’s voice reached him, though it did sound like he was far away down a tunnel, “Hey, Roman. Can you breathe for me?”

Roman tried, but he found his lungs weren’t listening. They seemed to just want to breathe sharply. It was almost like he was drowning, he was shivering like mad, but he felt like he was in boiling hot water. His muscles were tensing to the point of being painful, causing him to start to curl up into a ball, which didn’t help his breathing.

“C’mon Ro. You can do it. Just follow this pattern as best you can.” Remy started to gently stroke a rhythm out on his back, keeping it perfectly in time. Roman could just about make out Remy vocally breathing through it at the same pace.

He managed one shaky breath, but then fell back into a couple quick ones. “Good, that was good, Ro. Keep trying.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually Roman was able to breathe deeply again. He was now able to notice Remy crouched at his side. They were still in the diner, it was still dark outside. Everything was getting back to normal. Aftershocks still racked Roman’s body from time to time, but he felt better, “What… what was that?” He asked, still a little dazed.

Remy stood up and took his seat across from Roman once more, “A panic attack, Ro. I guess that was my fault, shouldn’t have thrown that all at you in one go. Sorry.”

Roman shook his head softly, “Don’t. It’s okay. I just… I never realised. I didn’t know that-” His throat seemed to close as he went to admit it out loud. He cleared it purposefully and powered on, “-that I did all that. That it was all my fault.”

Remy nodded, “Well, do you get it now?”

“I think so…” Roman bowed his head and paused as another aftershock of shudders flew through his body, “I have so much more to apologise to them for, huh?” He smiled ruefully at his friend that was back to sipping at his new drink.

“Understatement of the century, sugar.” Remy responded with his own smile as he also flicked his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

From that night onwards, Remy would spend at least one evening a week leading up to the wedding with Roman. He was the one who critiqued the apologies Roman came up with and got him to change them for the better, while also being the support Roman needed in order to even go through with some of them. As the weeks went by, the pair found themselves just enjoying their nights together as they relaxed a lot more. Roman was still trying to get out of some of his old habits, but Remy wasn’t too pushy on it. He was finally seeing the kid that he became friends with back in middle school; the sassy confident asshole that complimented him so well. Remy had to remind Roman of his old self from time to time, especially when he started apologising for something that wasn’t a big deal.

One night, Roman and Remy were simply lounging on Roman’s couch, watching a show and chatting. Roman grabbed the wedding invitation off the coffee table and turned to Remy, “Hey, so I was re-reading this earlier today and it’s an invite to the reception, right?”

Remy looked between the invite and Roman, eyebrows raised, “Did you think they’d invite you to the ceremony? I thought we’d already worked through your delusions, but alright.”

“No, you dick.” Roman shoved Remy’s shoulder with an exasperated smile, “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Ohhhh, sure.” Remy held his hand still as he was shoved lightly again, making sure to not spill the drink he was holding.

“So, what about you?”

“I’m going to both.”

“Oh.”

Remy glanced to the side and saw Roman’s slightly downcast expression. Clearly the man had not been expecting that revelation to come out so easily, but he quickly managed to shake it off and smile unconvincingly once he noticed Remy looking at him.

“Okay, Ro, do I need to explain again how much I’ve been in their lives?” Remy sighed and tilted his head back to rest against the back of the plush sofa.

“Nah, I kinda knew it. I guess I just needed to hear it to really believe it. Y’know?”

The corner of Remy’s lip twitched into a smile, “Yeah, I get it.”

Then the week of the wedding came. Remy had to cancel their usual get together as he needed to travel, but he did threaten Roman gently in order to make him promise to show up. This threat was what made Roman turn up on time, finding himself swamped in a landscape of unfamiliar faces. Some of the more friendly and chatty guests tried to start small talk with him and Roman obliged them, being as polite as he could while also dodging around the question of how he knew the couple.

Roman eventually found himself lingering in the bathroom of the reception venue, checking himself in the mirror over and over. He kept finding small things that needed to be fixed, but a small part of his brain – that sounded strangely like his friend - told him that he was stalling so he didn’t have to go through with what was going to undoubtably be the hardest apology he was ever going to have to do.

He wasn’t deluded anymore. He was aware of what his actions had caused, at least as far as Remy could tell him. There was no way for him to truly know what effect he’d had on Patton and his parents after all these years, but he knew it wasn’t a positive one. Roman was highly aware of the fact that they might not accept his apology outright and – while he knew it would hurt – he wasn’t going to be surprised if that happened. The amount of pain and suffering he’d caused over the years was a hell of a lot, almost to the point of being unquantifiable, so he was prepared to take their decision with dignity. He knew it wasn’t about him - well, okay it was a little about him, but it wasn’t about him – so if he was left hurting at the end of it all, that was just how this was going to go.

His phone buzzed as he was bracing himself to leave the bathroom. Roman checked it to see a message from Remy.

Rem: Boy. You better be late or something, because I will ruin you if you’re not coming.

Ro: I’ve been here for almost 30 mins, just been in the bathroom for... For most of it.

All of a sudden, the door to the bathroom slammed open and crashed into the wall.

“You better get your cute little ass out of this bathroom right now or else, lord help you.” Remy shouted. Roman realised that the door hadn’t even shut as Remy finished his sentence.

“Rem!” He whispered harshly, “Shut up! The last thing I need is-”

“…It’s not a wedding without a fight, right honey?” Laughter followed the voice that floated through the small crack in the door as it finally shut.

Roman hung his head and turned away from his friend, “Great. Wonderful. Just perfect! Now people actually think I’m getting into a fight! Y’know, the whole thing I wanted to avoid!” Roman glared into the mirror, trying to catch Remy’s gaze.

The other man was leaning against the wall between two of the stalls and simply shrugged, “Wouldn’t have been an issue if you didn’t hole yourself away in here, honey.”

Roman scoffed and rolled his eyes before turning back to face his friend, “Don’t you ‘honey’ me. Ugh, I don’t know if I can do this, Rem…”

“You can and you will, unless you want-”

“Unless I want you to tell them that I’m a coward who turned up and wanted to apologise but skipped out because it was too difficult for me. Yes, I know, Rem. You’ve told me a hundred times.” Roman cut across the other, sounding exhausted.

“Alright, good, you listen. Now, you’re gonna stand up straight, walk out of here, go find your table, sit and listen quietly like a good little boy, wait until the moment you can move and then go say your thing, right?” Remy casually rattled off the plan they’d gone over and over in Roman’s apartment a few weeks ago.

Roman sighed heavily, “There’s no getting out of this, is there?”

“Nope.” Remy crossed his arms, “Either you do it yourself, or I drag you out of here to do it, and that wouldn’t look good, sweetie.”

“Ugh, I know! I know!” Roman almost cried to the ceiling, as if he were cursing some kind of omniscient being for putting him in this situation.

Remy blinked a few times before speaking again, “Are you done?”

Roman pouted but nodded. He followed his friend out of the bathroom, taking a deep steadying breath before stepping out into the large reception room. He stood just outside of the door for a moment, unsure of where to go. From what he could see, there was something like a photo booth on the far end of the room, which was decorated with pictures and memories of the couple as well as several things that bore the couple’s last names. Currently over there were some people he thought he vaguely recognised, there was a tug at his memory that told him they could be aunts or uncles or cousins that he’d only met a few times. Seeing them reminded Roman that family were going to be involved and he suddenly felt the need to hide back in the safety of the bathroom once again.

Remy made sure he couldn’t do that, however. Almost as if he had a sixth sense for Roman’s panic, the other man grabbed his wrist just before he was about to turn and run before dragging him over to the table that sat just next to the entrance.

“So, you’re back here. What are you going to do?” Remy prompted, pointing at the table plan for the dining area.

Roman found his name at the table furthest away from the head table. He’d expected something like that and so it didn’t come as much of a shock, but he realised that – in order to get to the head table – he’d have to walk through the dance floor, which would be completely clear and in full view of everyone attending. Roman could feel his heart starting to pound as he visualised the worst; being watched by all those pairs of eyes, being rejected immediately without even having the chance to speak and apologise, physically being dragged back across that empty floor and thrown outside.

Remy comforted him by gently stroking the pulse point on his wrist, “Hey, chill out. You’ll be fine. Patton will hear you out, he’s a good guy. Everyone else will follow his lead. Just chill.”

Before he could even respond, Roman was interrupted by the call for everyone to take their seats in the dining area. He shakily drew a breath and looked at Remy, who nodded to him. Both of them walked through the double doors, but Remy was being sat at a table near the front, so he left Roman to sit at his assigned table.

Roman tried to control his pounding heart and his shaking hands as the rest of seats filled up. He quickly realised that he was at the “Random People We Invited But Really Didn’t Expect Them To Turn Up” table, as three of the seats around him remained empty and the rest recalled stories of one time encounters or impersonal tales of how they knew the newly married couple. When it came to his turn, Roman made up a story of how he’d known the couple back in high school – it wasn’t a full lie, but it made it easier than possibly having to explain why he, the brother of one of the grooms, was sat here at the back of the room.

It felt like an eternity before the wedding party finally arrived, giving Roman a reason to stop talking to these people he didn’t know. He clapped politely along with the rest of the room as everyone entered and took their seats at the head table, though he was unable to take his eyes off of his parents and Patton once they’d come through.

They all looked so happy, like actually really happy. Roman had no memories of any of them looking like that, at least as far as he could recall. His stomach started to sink even more as the toasts began, the realisation that his awful behaviour years ago really affected his family in such a horrible way. He barely paid any attention to the toasts and speeches, especially when they came from people he didn’t know or were about events he’d never even heard about. It was yet another reminder that Roman had missed so much of their lives. He reacted in kind with the people at his table, smiling and offering a weak chuckle whenever they laughed, but none of it was real. The only time Roman really found he focused was when people he did know spoke, mostly his father and Logan.

Patton and his new husband – who Roman realised he should now refer to by his name, Virgil – took to the dance floor for their first dance. The moment was pure and adorable, yet Roman felt ill watching the two of them. All he could see as he watched the couple slowly sway were the young kids he’d thrown around and yelled at in the rain all those years ago. Guilt was dripping through his body, making him want to curl up and hide away from everyone. It also gave him the drive he needed to stick through it and make him want to apologise, he wanted to get his family back and see them happy. He wanted to replace that awful memory with ones full of smiles.

Roman almost missed the call for the buffet to start. They were going up table by table and, of course, because he was at the reject table, his was going to be last. He was not upset by this arrangement at all, however. It gave him more time to psych himself up.

The buffet was right across the room from his seat, which meant that if anyone looked just to their side, they would have a full view of him. Roman made sure to keep his face covered by his hand as the head table gathered their food, using the guise of propping his head up as the ruse. He watched and mentally counted down the numbers as each table was called up to get food. As Remy’s table went up, the two made eye contact and Remy jerked his head towards the long main table, a silent message that reminded Roman of his ultimate goal. He nodded in response, which seemed to placate Remy for now. Finally, his table was called.

Roman stood with the rest of them but lagged behind a little as they all passed in front of him. He wasn’t hungry at all. Throughout the process of all the guests gathering their food, Roman had seen many of them take a detour to the head table in order to congratulate the couple on their marriage, so him crossing the empty dance floor wasn’t going to be too out of place. The last member of his table passed in front of him and Roman took the plunge, walking directly towards the head table.

At first, no one seemed to respond in any negative way. They must have thought he was another well-wisher or something, not surprising as they hadn’t seen him in years. It was only once one person clocked that it was Roman that everyone else seemed to fall silent as they realised it themselves.

The rest of the room quietened in response, as other tables seemed interested in what was going on. Roman clenched his fist quickly to try and stop him shaking before he opened his mouth.

“I am here to apologise. To all of you. To my parents, for ruining your lives for years and destroying relationships you may have otherwise spent time enjoying. To all the people here who knew me in high school or college, specifically those who were there to witness… that day. I apologise for causing so much stress, for almost ripping your friendships and relationships apart. I am so sorry for being an ever-present thought in all of your minds and being such a problem for you all. To anyone I used,” Roman glanced to Remy for a second and then to Reggie, who sat at the head table, “I am sorry for being a blockade and a dick to you all. I wish I could have understood how to be a better friend and how much I had to lose back then. I am sorry I only saw you as a tool to further my stupid, self-imposed revenge that really made no real sense. To Mr and Mrs Mortenson, I am so sorry I targeted your son and almost ruined your other’s relationships. I’m sorry I stopped you from seeing my parents back then and I am so sorry for being the reason you moved out of a neighbourhood that appreciated you both so much.”

Roman paused for breath, knowing the hardest part was just about to come out.

“To Virgil,” He turned and looked the man in the eyes, trying to ignore the hatred that was blazing in them, “I am sorry for everything I did to you. I had no idea what impact my actions and words had on you, especially back then. Now, I am aware that I likely did lasting damage and for that I am deeply sorry. I am sorry for trying to stop you being friends with Patton. I am sorry for causing your brother so much trouble and hurt that he was worried I would turn on you. He was probably correct about me back then, and that is unforgivable.”

“To Logan,” Roman turned and looked at his self-proclaimed school rival, finding the knot in his stomach untying as his gaze wasn’t as rage filled as his younger brothers, “I am immensely sorry for everything I ever did, for all the awful things I put you through. I know my actions and my words were disgusting and I fully own that fact now that I have been able to see the consequences. I am sorry for treating you unfairly and making assumptions that pushed me to find new and creative ways to be a pain in your ass. I am sorry that I ruined so much of your life and practically forced you to worry even more about your younger brother, purely because you were worried my attention would turn to include him in that stupid vendetta I had. I’m sorry for every word I said against you, I am sorry for every action I took against you.”

“And… to Patton,” Roman could feel his eyes beginning to tear up a little as he looked at his younger brother, seeing the small vulnerable young kid he’d almost destroyed. He refused to let himself cry in this moment, it wouldn’t look good and would make him feel like he was trying to gain sympathy, “I am sorry to you, Patton, my little brother, for everything I did. I had no idea that the boy you came home excited to talk about from preschool would turn out to be the man you loved, and it is awful that I tried to stop that. I am sorry for trying to push you to be like me, I’m sorry for even considering and implying that you were even remotely like I was back then. I’m sorry for all the teachers that compared us, for all the stuff I spouted about how close we were, for all the times I caused you to panic and worry about me or anyone I was involved with. I’m sorry that I almost ruined everything for you. I am truly sorry for it all.”

“I understand that some of you may not accept this apology and I want to say that I understand and will respect your decision, no matter what. Everything I did was unacceptable, and I am disgusted with myself. I wouldn’t be here without your kindness and willingness to at least give me a chance, and I definitely wouldn’t be here without you, Patton, reaching out to someone who could get me to realise the problems and hurt I’ve caused all of you. Thank you for being so gracious in listening to me today and for even considering inviting me to the happiest day of your lives.” Roman bowed to them out of pure instinct. He blinked back the tears that were still pricking at his eyes. His throat had caught several times and he needed to now swallow hard in order to stop him from bursting into tears.

Roman stood up straight and looked along the head table. He smiled and thanked them once more before going to turn and leave.

“Roman, wait.”

A voice stopped him from moving. Roman turned back to see Patton standing up, along with Virgil and a couple of Patton’s side of the wedding party. They seemed to be having a quiet argument, so Roman stood still and waited patiently to see what was happening.

On the other side, Logan was watching the man stood in front of him with a soft smile. He was fully aware everything Roman had just said was sincere. So many times in high school did Logan have to sit and watch as Roman faked his way through apology after apology, empty promises that he’d never do anything like that again to any student. This time, the emotion was plain for all to see and his eyes didn’t hold the rage and promise of more hurt. Logan physically found himself relaxing. He even helped in coaxing Virgil off of his new husband.

Everyone was silent as Patton smiled warmly to Virgil, “I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to the other man’s cheek. Patton turned and walked around the table, coming to stand in front of Roman. He could see his older brother was tense, was clearly trying to hold himself together and so Patton smiled a comforting smile before wrapping his arms around Roman in a gentle hug.

Roman’s eyes flew wide. He hadn’t expected this. He stared between the table and the man hugging him carefully. When he heard the next words from Patton, everything came falling down.

“I forgive you, Ro.”

Roman wrapped his arms around his younger brother, silent tears falling from his eyes. He knew he still had a lot to do to make up for everything he’d done, he knew he hadn’t won all of their trust back, but he was more than willing to put in the work to do it. Roman was determined to prove he’d changed. But now, all that mattered was that he had his little brother back.

Last Chapter

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