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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years

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(we are doing some cleaning before the term starts and i looked at this fic for the first time in months. all dressed up and...not going anywhere. and after reading through it, decided its going to stay that way, but i still really like this...first chapter.

so here tumblr. for you <3)

Work In Process (a raising harry AU, post-POA)

about 6k

Something about time.

The clock on the mantle of Number 12 Grimmauld Place ticked an eerie rhythm, acting as a metronome, counting the beats of passing time where Sirius Black did nothing but stare at the wall. Sirius remembered hearing that clock as a child, counting the tick, tick, ticks as he studied over summer holidays with his father over his shoulder or else when he was sent to stand in the corner, staring at the wallpaper, knowing nothing but the ticking clock and the pain on the back of his thighs.

And now Sirius counted the ticks for a different reason, needing a reminder that time was passing at all, after spending years in a cell wondering about the day or the month--even the year--let alone the minutes and seconds going past.

For years, time didn’t matter. It meant nothing. It was something elusive that just was. Something Sirius only checked in on via the morning paper when a prison guard was generous enough and brave enough to hand it through the bars of his cells. But everything had changed and suddenly having time was the most important thing in the world.

It had all happened so fast. This period of time, Sirius feeling like he was standing still as the world spun on it’s axis around him at record speed. The Earth, in theory, rotated once every twenty-four hours, but Sirius felt like days were combining into one at the beginning, creating new days of the week for himself.

Wursday, and Fraturday.

Lets not forget, Smonday.

They blended into one big blur, Sirius barely able to make sense of the walk back to Hogwarts the night of the full moon, Wormtail in a body-bind and all the way up to Dumbledore’s office.

An explosion.

A confession.

A trial.

A quite possibly inhumane amount of veritaserum and memory investigation later. Something about he’s a Black, certainly he knows Occlumency, Legilimency, all Sort of Tricks up his Sleeve and the Ministry, for once, wanting to triple-check their work. The first time around, Sirius was tossed into a cell without care, thrown into a corner like a crumpled sweet wrapper that missed the bin. This time though? Invasive. Overkill. Exhausting.

Do you treat all your potential criminals like this or am I just special? Sirius had asked to a room full of uptight ministry council members, unamused entirely. Until the charges were clear anyway, and suddenly they remembered Black could make their lives miserable, the key to the Gringotts vault being passed to Sirius after a wand, not used to having them around at all.

They asked Sirius if he needed any provisions, the Minister suddenly the most upbeat host of a party, offering to show Sirius around, offering up a room at the Leaky Cauldron until Sirius was able to sort out his finances, offering an arm and a leg and his soul in exchange forgiving a mistake.

“My godson,” Sirius told Fudge, the last time he had been summoned to the Minister's office. As a courtesy to make sure Sirius was adjusting.

If adjusting was spending time in his childhood home--the place he had run from so many years ago now acting as the only place of refuge Sirius could think of without accepting charity-- lying on the floor in the dark and listening to the clock tick, then yes, he was adjusting swimmingly..

“Harry is with Petunia Dursley, Lily’s sister,” the Minister explained.

“I know exactly where he is,” Sirius said, “And I believe, he belongs in my custody.”

Perhaps it was foolish, because Sirius had been cleared and able to walk around the wizarding world free for exactly two weeks, and half of him knew he wasn’t equipped to take care of a teenager any more than he was equipped to take care of himself at that particular moment. His dark curly hair had been matted and tangled for 13 years, after stopping trying to finger comb it around year two or maybe year three, he couldn’t be sure; he was still struggling to feed himself meals, used to surviving on so little despite knowing how emaciated his frame looked. Sirius had work to do, and had he been anyone else--had he not been named Godfather and Sirius Orion Black-- Sirius would hope a teenage boy wouldn’t have been so hastily handed over.

But as it was.

As he was.

“Then we can get the paperwork started.”

Sirius’s nails were brittle and falling apart as he worked on climbing his way out of the pit found himself in. Cracking under pressure, leaving fingertips bruised and bloody. Even as the end of the school year approached, Sirius was only halfway out, somedays falling to the ground once more and having to spend the first two hours of the day getting back to where he started. Like muggle-board games, he remembered playing with Lily one Christmas holiday--the first they had spent together at James’s house, the redhead nervous and giggling the entire time she met James’s parents--when a single dice roll could send you back to the beginning.

Most days, the roll was unlucky in Sirius’s case.

Snake eyes led to sleepless nights; doubles led to hearing sounds in the hallway that weren’t there.

Which was why Sirius took advantage of the rolls that weren’t entirely awful, hanging onto the side of the cliff for dear life with one hand as he sent out post to anyone and everyone from his old life.

Hello?

Is anybody out there?

Can you hear me? Do you care?

There was a knock on the door to Number 12, reminding Sirius that someone did care, the only sound that was able to jar him from his catatonic state, staring at the wall of the sitting room in an armchair. Sirius scuffled down the hallway, single candle lit, feet dragging on the floor to prove a point to a portrait upstairs that would occasionally yell. The only time his mothers screams felt welcoming.

Sirius opened the door, his wand raised.

“Get that thing out of my face,” Andromeda responded quickly, “Invite me over and already greeting me like a criminal?” she teased, “It’s me, Sirius. And what’s your plan with that anyway? Blasting me to bits? Leaving only my finger?”

“Did you prepare these jokes?” Sirius stepped out of the threshold, letting his cousin step in past him, absently wondering if she had gotten taller. The last time Sirius had seen Andromeda was when he was in his seventh year at Hogwarts, when she showed up to graduation and Sirius fought back tears when he heard someone cheering as his name was called. He recalled his head being able to see the top of hers, unlike the times before where Sirius would stand on tip-toes trying to reach the heights of his older cousins. He couldn’t see the top of Andromeda’s head, only the idea of it, back hunched over and so used to folding in on itself for protection and warmth.

“No, I’m terribly clever. See you’ve forgotten,” she said unbuckling the strap of her shoe and placing it on the floor, the two of them standing barefoot in the foyer.

In or out, Sirius. Do not linger.

“Memory’s a bit foggy these days.”

“I would imagine so. Remembered my address alright.”

“I found…it upstairs,” he shook his head, heavy hair moving around his chest.

“Lucky you,” she told him, “Are you going to invite me in? Or are we to have a very overdue conversation on the landing.”

“I…always thought important conversations should take place at entryways of homes. Sitting rooms are overrated.”

“Dining table?”

“Dusty.”

“You should clean, Sirius.”

“Kitchen?” he offered, “Tea?”

“That would be lovely,” she said, confidently leading the way down a home she had grown up in, though she had been separated from it for even longer. She was wearing jeans, he noted. Denim. Pockets. A blouse tucked into them and her brown hair in spiral curls down her back, not a thing out of place.

Except for them. Andromeda waved her wand, lighting up the hallway and opening curtains as Sirius ducked his head, squinting as he stared at floorboards following her to the kitchen. Sirius managed to beat his cousin to putting the kettle on, watching as she sat at the small kitchen table Sirius had been using to eat his half-meals alone, sitting primly with her legs crossed.

“I hope you take full offense when I say this, Sirius, but you’ve looked better.”

Sirius snorted out a laugh, “That might be the first honest thing anyone has said to me in two weeks.”

“What have the other things been?”

“Uh..well there’s the infinite number of we apologize deeply for the circumstances of the past 13 years and… let us know how we can support you in getting back on your feet and restoring the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black--”

“Oh, is that Fudge? You’ve met him, piece of incompetent drivel isn’t he? I’ve seen better leadership from a cream cracker. Excellent impression though.”

“Him and the wizengamot.”

“What? Are they worried you might try to seize their assets?”

“Or murder them.”

“I’d go with that,” she shrugged, giving Sirius a smile, “I was expecting you to be a little bit more…incoherent,” she leaned forward to rest her chin in her hand, “Don’t get me wrong, this is a very pleasant surprise, I was just prepared to talk to a wall.”

“Don’t get too confident just yet, give me an hour or so,” he said, pour water over two teabags, levitating cream over to the table. “Do you take sugar now or will milk do just fine?”

“Remembered that too. Impressive.”

Sirius flourished grandly, a big ta-da at how he was being praised for remembering how his cousin took her tea. Andromeda shook her head in amusement slowly taking a sip.

“I didn’t believe it, you know,” she said.

“Andromeda, we don’t--”

“No, I need you to know that I didn’t believe it. Sirius, you should have heard the fit Nymphadora threw when she found that out, met you and James exactly once when she was so young and was adamant. You need to know that I tried, and they were content to keep me out. Tried to drop my maiden name in there but they wouldn’t hear it.”

“It’s….what it is,” Sirius said, keeping his distance from his cousin as he leaned against the kitchen counter, back to the window so he was only looking at reflected light. His cousin, his favorite older cousin, so comforting and yet so unnerving all at once. Like trying to interact in a foreign language that hadn’t been used in years, tongue slipping around the vowels and consonants, ears drifting in and out, only every other word being recognizable, leaving Sirius wondering how to respond at all.

What do you say to someone who was apologizing for how things ended up when it wasn’t her fault in the slightest? When you didn’t want the apology in the first place?

“Why’d you write me?”

Sirius cleared his throat, “Uh…I’m a godfather,” he explained, hands gripping his mug tightly, hot liquid burning large, frail hands, “I have been, but now I actually get to make good on it and…uh, Harry--that’s his name, James and Lilys--I mean, I suppose you know that…Boy Who Lived or…something,” Sirius shifted his weight on his feet, “I get to be a godfather now and I’m sort of realizing I might have been a bit too hasty and…don’t know a damn thing about what to do. He’s thirteen, he’s a whole person. It’s not like when he was a baby and all I had to do was show up and hold him.”

That was the last thing Sirius did, and he spent thirteen years regretting leaving. Sirius should’ve stayed at Godric’s Hollow, in the shambles of the house, next to the bodies of his two best friends, and held onto Harry for dear life, with the same finger grip strength he was using now to climb an impossible cliff. Someone should’ve had to pry Harry from his hands.

“I don’t know what I’m doing and I probably shouldn’t be doing it,” Sirius said, “But I have to do it because I’m not going to let Harry down anymore, and--Andy he jumped at the chance to live anywhere else but the Dursleys. Knew I wasn’t a murderer for a total of an hour and was packing a bloody trunk. I know what that’s like…and--”

“Sirius…”

“I just know. And…I have to be better. And you’re my cousin, and you’ve kind of…already done this bit of raising a child. Raised me sort of…”

Andromeda looked at him, brown eyes narrowing behind heavy lids--the same ones Sirius had though his were grey and more haunted these days--setting her cup of tea on the table, “Do you want me to respond to this logically or do you want me to give you a hug?”

“The first, I think.”

“You want a kid? You want to be better? Clean this house or find a bloody different one that you want to clean. We have properties scattered around the country and you’re holed up here? Come on, use that big brain of yours to think and go someplace if you don’t want to stay here. Harry needs a room, probably one with windows. And, you need to sort yourself out. Your hair, your clothes, probably…everything else. I don’t imagine Azkaban was fun, and I know you’re not used to taking care of yourself but you have to at least pretend to know how for the sake of that kid. So shower, take care of your hair, your teeth, you can come to my home every day for dinner if you’d like so you can start eating again, I make a brilliant shepherd’s pie. You have to start somewhere.”

“Where?”

“You smell like a donkey, Sirius. Go shower. That’s where you start and…I’ll help you with what comes next. One thing at a time.”

“One thing at a time.”

“You were always the one who made the checklists….I remember when we packed for France? Were you like…maybe 10, and you’d have this perfectly written checklists so we’d all remember the appropriate number of pants and…you know, Cissa would follow it perfectly, and Bellatrix wouldn’t pay you any attention and you always got so frustrated with Regulus when he would throw in extra things just because,” she smiled a bit sadly, at the memory of their small family. What once was. “Make a checklist.”

“You’ll…be here?”

“While you shower? If I can do some dusting, this place is awful.”

“Just how I remember it.”

“That would be funny if it wasn’t so true…” she mused, leaning back in her chair.

“I meant…that you’ll be here. Harry needs some sort of cool-Aunt…one who throws tantrums at the ministry. And a cousin with…what color is her hair?”

“She likes it a sort of magenta these days,” she said, and paused, “I’m not going anywhere, Sirius.”

Andromeda cut his hair in the kitchen that night, shorter than he had had it since he was sixteen, and Sirius watched as it fell to the ground in unkempt tangles, suddenly able to think clearly for the first time since the world had started spinning around him.

Sirius didn’t announce his presence or his visit, still unsure whether every trip to Hogwarts warranted alerting Harry or if he could simply pass through like a ghost in the wall without him ever knowing. Doubting whether or not Harry actually would want to see him or if he had simply agreed to living with Sirius for the summer because it was better than The Dursleys. Which was an easy feat. Sirius knew the feeling of thinking a cardboard box on the side of the road in the middle of a hailstorm was better than going to a place with four walls and a roof but filled with people who couldn’t stand the sight of you; Sirius remembered what it was like to live in a place you were not welcome or wanted.

Bare minimum, Harry at least knew Sirius wanted him.

Bare minimum, Sirius at least knew Harry trusted him enough to live in a house with him. Though that didn’t necessarily mean Harry wanted to see him if he came to Hogwarts.

Besides, it wasn’t a social visit, despite Dumbledores attempts to make it one, Sirius biting back eyerolls when the older wizard called him my boy. Because Sirius, of course, wasn’t a boy when he was locked away in a cell at 21. Only now at 33 with a clear name was he worthy of the term.

Sirius went after classes, during dinner, so there wasn’t a chance of being spotted. Sirius saw the way witches and wizards on the street eyed him--unsure of the rumors published in the paper; wanting to form their own opinion on Sirius’s NOT GUILTY charges and WRONGFUL IMPRISONMENT; A MAN SCORNED--and knew students would be worse. Sirius didn’t mind scaring stuck-up shit’s; he cared about scaring student’s though.

He knocked on the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the door magically opening, and he stepped in. Remus had made a home in that room, the better part of Sirius relieved that he wasn’t having to pack up for the summer. The Grindylow tanks and tiny bookshelf with “Take One for Fun” in the corner in Remus’s handwriting could stay and welcome Remus back in the Fall.

“Looks like you in here,” Sirius said, carefully walking into the room, avoiding cracks in the floorboards subconsciously. Remus turned around over his shoulder, slightly taken aback at Sirius--this version of Sirius standing in his classroom.

“Old and messy?”

Sirius laughed softly, scanning Remus’s appearance in new light. They hadn’t spoken since his trial. Sirius looked different now, with his short hair and skin that started turning golden olive the second he stopped spending all his days inside, integrating sunlight back into his life the same way he was with people. Perhaps Remus looked different in the early summer light compared to the dark of the ministry hearing room.

Oversized teaching robes were on the back of Remus’s desk chair, and he stood in front of Sirius in an off-white shirt, and brown waistcoat. Brown trousers. Loafers that should’ve been thrown away 12 years ago but Remus held onto.

Among other things. Unlike other things.

“Something like that,” Sirius shrugged, keeping his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stopping his walk in the middle of the room.

Sirius had never moved more unsure in the world than how he moved now as a recently freed man. Unsure of where he stood with his godson. Unsure of where to go with an ex-lover-boyfriend-almost fiance. Sirius wondered if the ring would still be in his old dresser.

“Thanks…for responding to my owl.”

“I haven’t heard from you,” Remus said, pulling down the sleeves of his shirt, though they were already at his wrists. They couldn’t go any further, but Sirius watched as worn, nimble fingers tugged, turning red at the tips. But the material wasn’t the same as all of the ragged knits from days passed, starched cuffs staying put no matter how much Remus pulled and wished it otherwise.

“That’s nothing new,” Sirius responded, unable to stop the barb from escaping his lips. Remus had spent 13 years not hearing anything from Sirius. Sirius disappearing again should’ve been a relief for Remus, a re-establishing of natural order. Homeostasis.

“You know…what I meant.”

“I did.”

“Where have you been?”

“Sorting out some things,” Sirius said tapping his fingers on top of one of the desks in Remus’s classroom. In another life, Sirius was already across the room with his arms around Remus, unbuttoning shirt sleeves, and holding fidgeting hands; in another life, Remus’s hands were in the pockets of Sirius’s jeans and they weren’t standing awkwardly across five, no six, rows of desks apart. Sirius could practically hear the blood running through Remus’s veins it was so quiet in the room. “Figuring out where to live…getting my vault back, paperwork.”

“I’ve also been…doing paperwork,” Remus gestured to the stack of what Sirius could only assume were exams or essays on top of Remus’s desk.

“Different sort, I think.”

“Was…yours as interesting as a third-year using the phrase “pissed off” in an essay?”

Sirius gave a weak smile, “Not quite. Number 12…had to take trip into my father’s study for where he kept the ledgers and books.”

“Riveting.”

“Mm. Nostalgic.”

“So you’ve…got money again.. That’s good.”

“I forgot how terrible you were at small talk.”

“I forgot how much you used to save me from my misery. Where have you been?”

“My Uncle had a property on the seaside that he left to me…It’s quaint,” Remus snorted--a Black’s version of quaint was different than most people’s, “and I’ve been cleaning it out and…decorating. Getting things in order for a teenager to come stay.”

“Harry?”

“You’ve got another one for me?”

“No,” Remus said, a smile tugging on his lips, “Are you sure?”

“I checked in with those muggles, Remus. I…went to get his things only to discover how little he owns and they are lucky I didn’t actually get myself sent to prison for murder.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke. Did you know?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not arguing with you about--”

“Its a question.”

“And I don’t have an answer you want to hear,” Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “So you have a place?”

Sirius exhaled through his nose, “Yeah, we do. It’s nice, I think. I’ve been outside..a lot. By the ocean, just…walking along it.”

Sirius had spent years listening to waves crash on rocks surrounding Azkaban. The only sound he could hear apart from rattling of the other prisoners and the footsteps of the guards.Screams. Maybe that's why Sirius chose that property in the first place--how odd was it to have to find a new home that reminded you of an entirely other home? What else could he call Azkaban but….home?

“It looks like it…you look good, Sirius.”

“Least I could do,” Sirius shrugged, dismissing the comment entirely. Sirius was largely avoiding his reflection, knowing that he still looked like a shell of someone he used to know despite having made changes. Despite the hollows of his cheeks filling out and the dental work that restored a straight smile and the jewelery that made Sirius’s tattooed hands recognizable.

“You’ll be there for the summer?”

“And longer, I think.”

“Okay.”

“I just…wanted to let you know. Where we would be and…”

“That’s it?”

“I can’t do this alone, Remus,” Sirius said finally closing the space between them. He sat on a desk closer to Remus, studying the new wrinkles on his face alongside freckles, “I…am…holding myself together, trying to anyway, and I am going to need all the help I can get, even if its help I don’t necessarily want…or from a person I…don’t know what to do with.”

It’s not about me. It’s about Harry.

“You want me to live with you?”

“Merlin, no. I…want you to answer my post.”

“I did that today, didn’t I?”

“Okay.”

“Funny thing about answering, Sirius, is….someone has to write it first.”

Sirius smiled a little, silently admitting to his own stubbornness before flicking his wrist, thankful for Black magic that lived in his veins, permeating his bloodstream and never losing strength even after thirteen years of lack of use. Wandless magic was the easiest thing that came back to him aside from brushing his teeth. A bit of parchment and a quill flew through the air, Sirius bending over to write out a short memo onto a desk before folding it into an airplane and shooting it the short distance to Remus.

“Really? You’re such a shit…”

“Yeah, they tried to beat that out of me in Azkaban but…didn’t exactly work,” Sirius shrugged and inclined his head, “Open it.”

Remus’s hands opened the note, Sirius only slightly aware of how those hadn’t changed at all. Long, slender, bitten and bruised. The same hands that used to brush Sirius’s hair off his forehead and cup his face for kisses; the same hand that would tangle into Sirius’s dark curls and fall below the waistband of his briefs. “Do you want to go have dinner? There’s a smaller place in the village that has a great glass of red wine.” Remus looked at Sirius, raising an eyebrow, “Are you buying?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Then yes.”

“And I’m the shit? Alright then.”

Usually, Harry got off the Hogwarts Express and was greeted, in the loosest sense of the word, by his Aunt and Uncle. Uncomfortable, scowling faces, looking around at the world Harry was beginning to plant roots in with distaste and disgust, and perhaps a bit of fear. Harry would struggle to lift his trunk into the back of the car, then would sit in the back seat, quietly looking out the window as they drove back to Surrey, ignoring the bumps in the pavement the same way he ignored comments from his Uncle and complaints from his cousin. He could feel every single bump in the road, but he couldn’t do a thing about it, so why bother?

This year, Harry stepped off the train and was scanning the crowd for something--someone--entirely different. He had a letter folded neatly into his pocket, that he took out to read more than a few times during the ride back to Kings Cross. To make sure it was real. As proof that someone would be there at all.

Harry,

Everything has been arranged with your Aunt and Uncle. I’ll be on the platform tomorrow to pick you up, assuming the train still runs on the same schedule.

Looking forward to the summer.

Sirius

They had been writing back and forth, nearly every day, the feeling of seeing an owl heading straight towards him and opening a piece of parchment to neatly scrawled cursive handwriting never getting old. Harry bit back smiles around his breakfast and continued as he thought of how to respond in the evenings. Harry was beginning to know a man through paper exchanges, but that was…not the same as knowing someone when they stood in front of you and the last time Harry had done that, the stakes were much higher.

Would he still care when everything had settled?

Sirius wasn’t hard to spot on the platform, and not only because of the space around him, other parents on the platform eyeing him with uncertainty, but because Sirius was perhaps the tallest person Harry had ever met. Harry gave a goodbye to his friends and walked towards Sirius, dragging his trunk behind him on the uneven platform, the grooves and knots in the surface mimicking how his heart felt. A bit seasick, a bit excited. As Harry got closer, images of the last time he had seen Sirius faded and a new man stood in front of him.

His dark hair had been cut short, though long enough that Harry could see curls and it was pushed out of Sirius’s eyes effortlessly; he wasn’t so pale, his once stick-thin frame filled out more. Sirius looked healthy, resembling more of the man from his parent's wedding photos, but this time he was in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and Harry was mesmerized by tattoos covering his arms and hands. Caught off guard by the jewelry on his fingers and the earring in his ear, but mostly by the way Sirius smiled when he saw Harry, his teeth a bright white and welcoming.

Harry was never given a smile on the platform when he got off the train, let alone one that was so kind and eased some of the anxiety pooling in his stomach.

“Hey Harry,” Sirius said when he was close enough.

“Hi,” he said, giving an awkward half-wave, unsure of how to proceed.

“All set?”

“Uh, I think so.”

Sir? Was Harry supposed to be polite? Was he being rude? Was Sirius’s smile going to fade quickly and be replaced with a frown Harry was accustomed to?

“Then we’ll get going, we do have a bit of a drive, but I’ve got dinner ready for us when we get there,” Sirius offered, “Mind if I help you with your trunk?”

What are you going to do with it?

“Uh…sure,” Harry watched as Sirius smiled again and bent down to grab the trunk handle from Harry. He had so many questions buzzing in his mind--where are we going? Where are we going to live? Do i have a room? Did i pack too much stuff? Do you have space? How are you? Can my Aunt and Uncle find me? How are we getting there?

Sirius started talking though, putting sunglasses over his eyes as they left the platform, and ventured out into the busier portion of King’s Cross. One hand on Harry’s trunk, one hand free and Harry wondered if that was going to be used to grab him the same way Uncle Vernon did. “Stay close to me, yeah? It’s always so busy here, never understood it…” he said, and he was still smiling, even after the weight of the trunk, slowing down his pace so Harry wasn’t running to keep up with long legs, “The house is on the beach, about an hour away. My Uncle bought it, the decent one, I’ll tell you about him if you’d like, it’s a muggle home but he put the magic in there, somehow. He did that with all his properties, there’s one tucked away in Greece and another one in London…” Sirius said, “It’s clean, not too big. I’m used to smaller spaces, and I thought…you might like it too. You’ll get your own room, of course.”

“Sounds…great.”

A house on the seaside. A room of his own.

“There are muggles that go down to the shore, but it’s removed enough that it’s quiet.”

A quiet house sounded like a specific brand of paradise.

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say, settling on, “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Harry,” Sirius said but Harry just shrugged, continuing to listen as Sirius filled in answers to questions Harry didn’t have the courage to voice out loud. It felt too good to be true. An entire summer with a man who had tattoos and a house on the seaside that was quiet and carried his trunk for him and--

“Is this your car?” Harry asked, eyes growing wide as a sleek black sports car came into view, Sirius flashing him a grin as the car let out a woop as it unlocked.

“That it is. Cool, isn’t it?”

“You drive?”

“Legally even.”

“It’s…not by magic?” Harry asked, watching in disbelief as Sirius loaded his trunk into the boot of the car, before opening the door on the passenger's side for Harry.

“I didn’t say that now. Your grandfather taught me to drive when I was seventeen, got the bike after but, I figured it didn’t hurt to have more than one means of transportation. I know the bike takes some getting used to.” His Uncle had driven something sensible. Something unremarkable. Harry slid into the passenger seat, taking stock of the leather seats and the center console with so many buttons Harry was afraid to move. Sirius got into the seat next to him, his smile never faltering.

“This,” Sirius gestured to a dial, “Is for the radio, whatever you’d like. If you get hot or cold, adjust the temperature…”

“Do I need…to…do anything?” Harry asked, feeling stupid as he did so, looking down at his lap, his face flushing. Suddenly the hem of his t-shirt was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Nothing at all. Enjoy the drive…take a nap if you want, I was always exhausted after the train rides, don’t ask me why though.”

Harry settled back against the seat, just enough to look comfortable, not enough to actually be comfortable as Sirius started the car, a tattooed hand reaching over to start the radio. It was quiet, some sort of classical station that made Harry bite back a grin.

“What?” Sirius asked, apparently noticing the half-smile, “Laughing at my music choice?”

His tone was light. Sirius wasn’t scolding him. It…sounded like a question.

“A…bit. Stuffy, isn’t it?”

Sirius gasped, and Harry lifted his head, Sirius still smiling as he kept his eyes on the road, sunglasses covering his eyes, “Stuffy? No. Posh…absolutely. I’ll teach you a thing or two about taste, Harry.”

Harry hid another smile, turning his head to look out the window, a piano melody in the background.

Quiet.

For me? This whole thing?

Harry’s words echoed in Sirius’s mind the following morning after their first night in their new home.

His Uncle had installed stain glass windows in the kitchen, that casted shades of aquamarine and a pale teal onto the white tile floors. Their kitchen was an ocean in itself and Sirius had come to find the sunlight a little less harsh with a barrier. Sirius had woken up that day practically floating, willing himself to take a few breaths and calm down before proceeding, reminding himself to take it one step at a time with rebuilding this life and rebuilding it alongside Harry. Harry’s bedroom wasn’t anything huge--something Sirius had fretted about briefly when deciding which property to live in--because no room could be big enough in Sirius’s mind. No size bedroom could ever make up for lost time, the clock in the kitchen ticking the same as the one left behind at Number 12.

This one though was handsome. Emerald green and gold, the ticking not so robotic.

The whole room was for Harry.

The whole house was for Harry.

Sirius prepared breakfast that morning, watching as the hands of the clock moved past half-seven and started drifting towards eight. He had written Andromeda that morning, as well as Remus, letting them know that the hour long car ride hadn’t ended in disaster, and Harry had gone to bed easily, Sirius walking into the average bedroom to see his godson asleep with the light on and his glasses on his face. Asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, just like James. Sirius was sitting at the table by the time he heard footsteps down the hallway, muffled by socks and Harry appeared, rubbing the back of his neck and stifling a yawn.

“Sorry for sleeping,” Harry said, walking into the kitchen, large t-shirt hanging around his frame and Sirius wondered how soon was too soon to force his teenage godson to the shops to buy some better clothes. Less than twenty-four hours? Would it feel like a criticism? Would it be welcome or simply just embarrassing?

“Don’t be sorry. Breakfast?”

Harry nodded hesitantly, waiting for a cue from Sirius to sit at the small rectangular table in the kitchen, across from the Sirius was in. Sirius gave him a small nod, hoping that was enough, silently cursing muggles in three different languages in his head.

“Did you sleep okay?” Sirius asked, “Everything comfortable?”

“Everything’s great,” Harry told him, “Thank you.”

“Think you’ll want to keep that room?”

“I promise it’s great, Sirius.”

Sirius paused, trying a different tactic, “See, I prefer it dark when I sleep because if theres too much light, I wake up. Now…your Dad? At school? Loved the curtains flung wide open so he could wake up with the sun--” at mention of his father Harrys face started changing. Illuminated by a small smile, “Professor Lupin? Somewhere in the middle. I suppose…I’m just asking if you’d want to change the room at all. Because you…can have preferences.”

Harry nodded slowly and Sirius stood up from the table to start preparing breakfast.

“I…like the sound of the waves.” Harry said after several moments of silence, Sirius half wondering if he had fucked this arrangement up already.

“I do too.”

#i guess a happy sirius and harry sunday #sirius black #harry potter #work in process #but not actually es done

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thesleepy1 · 3 years

Text

Rain's Quite A Lovely Thing

A/N: Sorry for no fics for so long. I was just not in the mood. Really not in the mood for anything. Though, at the very least, I wrote this at a reasonable time. That’s one bright side, I guess. Unnbeta’d as always. And this was requested by a friend. I really hope they like it.

Pairings: Arthur x Merlin

Summary: Arthur had been trying to court Merlin for ages but the man just didn’t seem to be able to take a hint.

Word count: 1,238

Part 2

Part 3

Warnings: no warnings

The great king is only as good as his court. Arthur was the greatest of his time for one reason and one reason only. For he had Merlin by his side. The great wizard himself, who could make the sky turn green and the world tilt off its axis. The most incredible magic user to exist, to ever exist and ever will.

However, no matter how great a man Merlin was, he was still undoubtedly a fool. The biggest idiot to ever walk the world. Here be dragons was a lie, here be Merlin’s intelligence made more sense. Arthur had been trying to court him for the past year and all he got from the brunette was, “Aren’t you betrothal, sire?”

He was not. And frankly, never will be. Women, queens, and princesses, even common ladies were the farthest from his interest. Not to say they were bad in any way. No. Never, he would never think of such a thing. Arthur loved the woman in his life dearly. It was just that men had always been the one to peak his interest. Merlin especially.

When he had first realized he had fallen for his servant, he was ready to leap off from a castle turret. Merlin, off all people. He could just not believe that that man could have possibly won his heart. Off all the men in his life, it just had to be his Merlin. Not his Merlin, per say-

Arthur only meant he would be happy if he had fallen head over heels for one of his knights. Now they were worth his affections. They were strong, loyal, compassionate, and most importantly, they made his heart skip a beat with just one look. Though, if he had to be honest with himself, Merlin took his breath away.

Dear god, Arthur was in, in love with Merlin.

How would he ever meet his servant’s eyes again? How was he supposed to court the man for over a year just to have him meet his eyes and say, “Aren’t you betrothal, sire?” Like that would matter. Like Arthur would care about something as mundane as an arranged marriage when Merlin could build cities with a flick of his hand. His possible arranged marriages be damned, Arthur wanted Merlin’s affections and Merlin’s affections only.

The only question was how.

Arthur had done everything. For months! And yet, Merlin was still not taking the bait and spending the rest of his life with Arthur. What did he have to do to win Merlin over before it was too late? What did he need to do? Slay a dragon? Protect his city? Venture off on an elaborate quest to find some dumb item that only he could find? At this point the king was ready to do anything at the top of a hat.

“Have you actually told him, you liked him?”

“Of course, I ha-”

He had not.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled to his servant the very next morning when he came in to tend to the king.

“Has the cat finally returned your tongue, sire?” Merlin greeted with a slight grin to his lips. Not that Arthur had been staring at his lips.

“I would hardly call myself quiet, Merlin.”

Merlin walked over to his bedside, laying a new set of clothes over a chair. His hands expertly moved so as to not leave a single wrinkle to his clothes. Now Arthur was staring. He couldn’t help but notice how much care Merlin took with everything he did. Except properly walking that is.

“At least you’re aware.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing you and your silent nature need to worry about,” Merlin grinned at him.

“You can’t make fun of me, Merlin. I’m a king,” Arthur replied without the usual bite.

The man must have noticed by some sort of magic because he turned to face Arthur. Arthur will never get used to the look he gave him. “Are you running a fever, sire?”

“A fever- Of course I’m not running a fever, Merlin. What’s gotten into you? Thinking I had a fever.” Merlin didn’t look convinced, leaning forward and laying a cool hand onto his forehead. Arthur could practically feel himself heat up at the brief contact that was for purely medical reasons. He was going insane.

“You’re quite warm. I better have Gaius make you some medicine,” Merlin went on, retracting his gentle hand from Arthur’s face. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.” He turned to leave.

“Merlin wait-” Before Arthur knew it he had Merlin’s arm in his hand. When did Merlin become so muscular? Perhaps lugging around Arthur’s equipment had something to do with that.

“For what, sire?” Merlin looked down to the hand on his arm. He almost seemed annoyed at this for whatever reason. “Do you want me to undress you to your bare bottom as well?” the wizard asked, blunt as the day he was born.

Arthur blushed at that, his face heating up farther. “N-no,” even he sounded unsure to his own ears. “I just want you to stay with me….” he trailed off, thinking of some sort of excuse. “Until my fever lessens of course. Camelot needs a king and if he dies of a sickness, then it would be on you, Merlin.” Arthur nodded to himself. “It's best if you stay here…. With me.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, as if knowingly. “Yes, sire. Whatever you wish.” His eyes then glanced back down to Arthur’s hand. Instantly the king removed his hand as if Merlin’s skin had burned him. Though, Arthur would give just about anything to be burned by Merlin’s touch. The kingdom be damned.

“Do you want me in your bed as well?” That certainly caught Arthur’s attention.

“Wh-what?!”

“Do you want more blankets, sire? You still look feverish,” Merlin explained in a calculating manner, peering down on Arthur.

“Uh- Yes…. That would be nice,” Arthur regained his composure, “Though you should have already brought them over.” Arthur shuffled back into his bed, tugging Merlin by the sleeve alone with him. “Really, Merlin, do I have to tell you how to do everything?” He indicated with his eyes towards the pillows supporting his back.

With a sigh Merlin fluffed them. “May I go back to my other duties?”

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind.” Another eye roll. “Stay.” Arthur patted the space next to him on his bed. “I want to have a word or two with you.”

Merlin sat down comfortably next to Arthur, his arm outstretched to stabilize himself. He was awfully close to Arthur. He did not mind this. “What would you like to talk about?” This was said with a softer tone, as if Merlin was worried about Arthur.

“I-” The king’s heart skipped a beat. All the air left his lungs. “I love….”

“You love?”

“I love the rain! That’s how I got sick. You know this, Merlin. I just rained yesterday,” Arthur laughed forcibly. “My knights and I were training from sunrise to sunset. It would make sense that I eventually got sick. As much as I act invincible, I’m only human.”

Merlin watched his forced expressions with interest. A number of emotions flashed across his eyes, but the one that stood out the most to Arthur was what seemed like disappointment. What could Merlin possibly be disappointed about? Arthur was the one who failed his confession.

“You are only human, sire.”

#no warnings apply #no warning at all #no warning whatsoever #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #fandom #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #gaius #bbc arthur #king arthur #merlin x arthur #bbc merthur #bbc merlin

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mamahersh · 3 years

Text

The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 6

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, blood, gore, torture)

Chapter rating: M

Sorry, chapter’s a little on the shorter side today, but that’s how the cookie crumbled, eh? On plus y’all get a long boi for a final chapter tomorrow! But yes, please enjoy BDubs and Etho centered chapter!

As always, if you enjoyed this chapter or this fic, I was directly inspired by this oneshot on AO3, so give them some love!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 7 (Final chapter!)

They had been trying to find the hidden base for the last hour and a half, and they were still no closer to finding Etho. BDubs wanted to viciously tear something limb from limb (not really, he had felt that bloodlust already, and he couldn’t do that to himself again). The multiple scout groups were still in the process of methodically digging down and then flying back up out of the hole only to travel 9 blocks forward to do it all over again. The worst part was that they were only about half way done with this, and still no sign of Etho. Pulling his head back and stretching out his shoulders, BDubs looked around the hole he was in and double checked his communicator to see what his Y coordinate was. Seeing he was at the bottom of the digging depth they had set, he sighed and pulled out his rockets to fly out. Mechanically, he hopped up and let the wings on his back catch the air as he launched straight up with a rocket. Knowing he would need multiple to get out, he spammed 4 more rockets in quick succession to get out of the hole. However he accidentally set off 5, and flew far above the ground out of the hole, and into the blue sky. He cursed under his breath, as this was a waste of time that he could be spending digging. But before he was about to take off his wings to fall at terminal velocity to the ground, he caught sight of something on the edge of his render distance near build height. He didn’t think anyone had been building up that far, and realizing it was a bit along the same axis they were trying to explore, he flew up even higher to try and get a better look at whatever it was.

The closer BDubs got to the structure, the more hope began to pool in his chest. The structure was a strange box up at world build height, seemingly made out of obsidian. The box itself was a large 13x13x7 cubic room, with seemingly no entrances nor exits. BDubs could think of nothing else other than it would be simple to hide a 9x9x3 box inside and protect it with layers of obsidian and lava. Not wanting to break his cover just yet, he decided to make a note of the coords in chat without sending it; and then fly to the next closest searching Hermit.

He quickly found Tango, and explained the situation to him, before they both flew off back to the coordinates to investigate. “I can see what you mean. I’m surprised we hadn’t seen it sooner when we were flying around this area.”

“Well we were looking for something on the ground,” admitted BDubs, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “It makes sense we didn’t notice something in the sky till now.”

“Good eyes either way, my fellow big-eyed broski. How do we want to go about this then? Should we just announce the coords in chat and risk that scumbag getting away?” asked Tango, rocking back on his heels as he himself did some thinking.

“I was hoping to somehow pass a message along without letting EvilX onto our plans. What’s the closest base to here?”

Tango thought for a moment, looking at the surrounding country-side as he did so. “You know, I think we’re pretty close to my turtle farm at the moment. Closest base to that would be Joe and Cleo’s so we could meet there. If we didn’t want to draw as much suspicion though, we’d probably want to meet up at Jevin’s base or Stress’s base, since they are located pretty close to the center of the search pattern.”

BDubs nodded and thought for a second, but decided speed would be more valuable than caution. “Let’s have them meet at Joe and Cleo’s base. Anyone late to the meeting we can meet along the way back and let them know what’s going on as we go to raid.”

With the plan set, Tango quickly put out a message saying that all search party members should meet at Joe and Cleo’s base for a meeting about a potential new search pattern. BDubs hoped that the other Hermits wouldn’t waste too much time in flying down by complaining or asking too many questions that could potentially blow their cover. Glancing down at his communicator as they took off in Joe and Cleo’s direction, he saw most of the chat filled with confused but willing Hermits. He looked away to focus on his flight, and thanked his lucky stars that the other Hermits were able to take a hint better than he could.

“Don’t worry Etho, we’re coming. We know where you are, we just gotta break in,” BDubs muttered to himself, happy to already see the skeletal structure of Joe and Cleo’s mega-build castle. He could see Cleo, XB, and Hypno already gathering in the center of the small town at the base of the castle, and BDubs just hoped the rest of the searchers would be there soon. “Just hold on…”

—-------------------------------------------

Etho came to to see EvilXisuma’s mask right in his face. To complain about the inconvenience of still being attached to the chair (though he had managed to get his left arm entirely removed from the cuff and was working on both of his legs, but then again his upper arm was still pinned to the chair.), Etho decided the most expedient way was to spit on EvilXisuma’s mask. He managed to get some spittle and blood onto the mask on his first try, so he counted it as success, even though he was immediately punched in the face. Admittedly, the punch barely registered as pain, since he was already in so much pain constantly. But he had been in so much pain for so long, it just didn’t really register anymore in general. Sure, his body would shudder, and squirm, and instinctively try to get away; but the rest of him just tried focusing on getting out of his binds a little more every time he respawned.

“Well Ethoslab, I was going to say it’s been a pleasure, but after such a rude greeting, I think I’m just going to leave the punch as my response to our time together. Unfortunately for me, I must be off. Your friends seem to have caught on to our whereabouts, so I’ll leave you with a little present and then I’ll be off. If, for whatever reason Xisuma can’t figure out respawn, I might make a second appearance. Wouldn’t want you all to suffer needlessly for the sins of a few.”

Etho tried to glare at EvilXisuma, but he just couldn’t get his face to respond, so he settled for just being generally unresponsive, since his tongue never did grow back after all the respawns. His breathing picked up though as EvilXisuma pulled out a water bucket. Dread pooled in his stomach as he began to realize what final hell EvilXisuma was planning on leaving him in. “I can see you understand what my present is for you, and I know those watching are probably very aware as well. So I’ll just finish up and I wish you the best till your friends come by to save you. I’m sure you can recover from this kind of repeated respawn.”

With that, EvilXisuma created a small tower of cobble behind Etho’s chair and set the bucket of water loose on the top of the tower. And of course, the water flowed down and over Etho himself. Before the water covered his head, he managed a single breath, and he held it as long as he could as he felt the water cover his entire head. Through the water, he watched EvilXisuma fiddle with his communicator and then disappear as if he had never been there in the first place.

Etho tried that first breath to hold onto it as long as possible. But his lungs were not infinite, and he eventually succumbed to the lack of air.

“Ethoslab drowned whilst trying to escape EvilXisuma.”

“Ethoslab drowned”

“Ethoslab drowned” “ETHO!!”

#bdouble0 #ethoslab #tangotek #evil xisuma #joehills #zombiecleo #xbcrafted #hypnotizd #the hermits #hermitcraft #hc fanfiction #hc fanfic #gore #blood #torture #drowning

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gottagobuycheese · 3 years

Note

4, 5, 7 for the writing meme. Thanks!

(Writing meme)

Thank YOU for indulging me with these questions, and sorry for taking so long to answer! What is possibly my final finals season just about wrapped up, and I couldn’t think about anything else until it did (so fingers crossed it really has wrapped up lmao). So without further ado, here are some unnecessarily long answers!

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Ideas as in “I am actively working on this/making notes about it” or ideas as in “I have daydreamed about it at least once”? Because there’s…definitely way more of the second than the first lol.

But if we’re talking the former, then the thing that’s currently gripping my mind is a (hopefully) short post-true ending Undertale fic in which Undyne and Asgore catch up over tea and somehow get around to talking about the nature of human souls and what it what it takes to actually collect one (i.e. what it took to really, truly perma-kill a human). The problem is I don’t remember how much each character actually knows about the subject, so I’m rewatching a pacifist playthrough as “research” — and also falling back headfirst into the vast plethora of content that exists for the source material, predictably. It’s been a good few years since I was this fixated on it, which is great news for me because there is SO MUCH stuff to catch up on! (Tangentially, I guess it was kind of predictable, since I always seem to fall back into some kind of comfort video game around finals season, but usually it’s Ace Attorney, so this is new.)

In terms of the second, an idea that has been pretty solidly in daydream territory for a while is some kind of Stranger x Nobody Knows crossover fic in which (Senior) Inspector Han and (possibly former) Detective Cha cross paths for some reason. I have no idea what I’d want from it plot/content-wise, so I doubt it’ll ever be much more than a vaguely entertaining impression in my head, but I just think it’d be cool to see those two interact XD

Sadly neither of these things are the things I’m ACTUALLY supposed to be working on, so they probably (hopefully) won’t be done for a while.

5. Share one of your strengths.

 Ah, one of my least favorite interview questions. Uh, I guess I have fun writing dialogue, and it definitely tends to come easier than other aspects of writing (like DESCRIPTION, blegh). Plus I have been told that it makes people laugh sometimes, which is usually my goal — or makes them feel Painful Feelings, which is my other goal that unfortunately rarely makes it to the publishing phase — so I will count that as a success! And therefore a strength of some sort.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. 

Oof, this is a hard one, haha. There is a subtle yet important difference between saying why you like something versus saying why you’re proud of something, but I shall try to veer more toward the latter since that’s the actual question.

As it turns out, being more comfortable with dialogue means that most of my stories end up being pretty dialogue-heavy, which I just discovered when flicking through fics to borrow a snippet from, but if we’re going with strictly prose, then this bit from a long-ish comedic Good Omens fic I still haven’t figured out all the plot points to was fun to write:  

In literature, funerals are often held in the pouring rain. This is because, in literature, authors can carefully describe how grief-stricken the attendees are, how their water-logged clothes, heavy and cold, cannot begin to compare to the weight of the sorrow that drags them down, how it pulls at their body, hangs from their shoulders and backs and legs and soul, begging them to join their loved ones in the ground. They can describe how the heavens themselves weep for the dead, that the earth, for once, pauses in its frantic flurry of activity, takes a moment to mourn what it has lost, and grieve for those who are left behind.

Of course, grief is complicated. Authors understand this. Sometimes the attendees are angry, and so the funerals are sunny, and the attendees are angry because the world dares to keep spinning on its axis even when theirs has ground to a halt. They are angry because the heavens won’t hide their tears for them, won’t admit they did something wrong, taking away someone who was so loved, so cherished, so good. They are angry because their heartache isn’t enough, doesn’t nearly encompass the gaping void torn in their reality, doesn’t do the dead justice. The earth and the skies and the seas ought to be mad with grief as well. Thunderstorms, gale-force winds, surging tides and shaking stone. How dare the world imply it’s no great loss?

Or maybe the funerals are held in the snow, because grief is cold and numbing and relentless, and no amount of warm soup or thick blankets or knitted mittens will make it better, fill the hollow misery the way one can fill a grave with soil and ice crystals. No one really wants to be there, socks soaked through and half-asleep from the chill, but sometimes you need to slog your way through those waist-deep banks of grief anyway, that frigid, dull, powder-white pain, focus only on how your teeth chatter and your fingertips turn blue and put all the rest of it aside for later, when it’s warm again. If it will ever be warm again.

Or perhaps the author just likes snow.

I get to ramble about some of my favorite kinds of weather for three paragraphs?? Count me IN

Anyways, I think it did a good job of keeping with the vaguely whimsical tone of the rest of the story, despite this being the opening to a (fake) funeral scene. And yeah, maybe it’s a bit excessive and heavy-handed, but it fits the context well enough and has some actual Imagery™, not to mention that it actually segues somewhat neatly into the next bit, so I think it did its job — which is all I can really ask for, so I’ll be proud of that! It’s a bit of a narrative reprieve from the dialogue-and-emotions heavy previous scene and the comedic shenanigans of the subsequent scene. Which would probably also be quite dialogue heavy, except for the part where I haven’t written it yet sjkdhfskf

#ask #Cheese talks #I tried to type this out twice and accidentally tabbed out of the page and had to start over #so I kept putting off actually starting again #but THIS TIME I made sure to copy and paste as I went #and also just type out everything on a separate note and then just copy/paste it here #thank you again for this!#it was fun to look through old writing #but gosh I sure would like to finish some of those some day #lots of ideas but very few actual Stories #and now that I have all the time I could possibly want I don't want to do anything #writing ask meme #my brain is still very much in drawing mode and not writing mode #but hopefully it'll shift into more writing mode soon #because there's a lot of stuff I need to finish writing before getting back into Obligations #ANYWAYS FEEL FREE TO ASK MORE #SO I CAN START THINKING IN WORDS AGAIN INSTEAD OF JUST PICTURES #drivingsideways

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tokyoghoulaspecs · 3 years

Text

Like I said in my last post, I’ve been putting more and more aspecs into my writing lately. This fic in particular is being written extremely scattered, so i have no idea when it’ll be posted, if at all. But I wanted to at least share the aspec bits I have written!

This time, it’s Hide’s segments!

(Word Count: 2200)

(Warnings for a brief scene of romance and lots of internalized aphobia/amisia)

[This takes place shortly after Dragon, while the ghouls are all still staying at the CCG]

“Um, Hide? Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Of course!”

“So, um, I was thinking about what you said...” Kaneki began.

“Which one?” Hide asked. So much had happened over the past few weeks, Kaneki could have been referring to literally anything.

“A-about... you liking me.”

“Oh.” Hide could feel his face heating up. He’d almost forgotten about his confession.

“And, I think I’d like to try? As long as that’s okay with you?”

Hide lunged and hugged him. “Of course it is!”

Kaneki hummed contentedly and hugged him back.

It was 3am, and Hide was awake staring at the ceiling.

He had forgotten the reason why he stopped dating in high school, why all of his relationships ended badly. Something was different about him — about his sexuality. Kaneki had just confessed and they became a couple, and already Hide could feel his feelings changing. Most people would write it off as anxiety, but Hide knew better. He’d felt this feeling before, and he knew what was happening. His romantic feelings were fading.

Hide groaned and ducked his head into his knees. “I was hoping I would be fixed by now.”

He had given up dating after he broke two people’s hearts. Two people that he had loved romantically, and even when his romantic feelings faded he still cared about, but the relationship became too much for him. Too many expectations, too many things he didn’t understand, and he had to end it. After not even a few months, going from passionate to repulsed, he unintentionally broke their hearts. And then they broke his when they screamed at him, accusing him of never loving them in the first place.

He had hoped that taking a long break from dating would fix whatever was wrong with his sexuality. He had loved Kaneki for so many years, with none of it fading, even when Kaneki went missing time and time again. Hide thought it would stay forever. But now that they were in a relationship, it was fading.

“Maybe I can hold on, and it’ll come back.” Hide said, trying to ignore the fact that he said the same thing in his prior relationships, and it had never worked before.

“I love you.” Kaneki whispered, nuzzling him before kissing him on the cheek.

Hide pulled away. “I can’t.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

Hide shook his head. “It’s not you. It’s me.” He grimaced. “I know that sounds cliché, but its true.”

“What’s wrong? I can fix it.” Kaneki reached out to take his hand.

“It’s nothing you can fix!” Hide snapped, yanking his hand away.

“Hide…?”

Hide stepped back. “S-sorry!”

“Wait, Hide!”

“I’m so sorry.” Hide ran off.

Hide tried to busy himself with CCG work, which Marude was more than happy to provide. It was boring, but gave him time to think, which he really needed. And after a while, he needed someone to talk about it with.

“Hey, Marude-san…” Hide began. “What are your thoughts on queer people?”

Marude laughed.

Hide winced and continued on his work. Maybe they could just pretend he never said anything.

“So you’re saying you’re queer too, huh?” Marude asked. “I guess I shoulda known, the way you talk about that one eyed bastard.”

Hide perked up. “Too?”

“Hm?” Marude looked at him. “Yeah. You’re far from the only queer person I know.”

“Really?”

Marude gave him a look. “Nagachika, you really think everyone is straight, in the entire CCG, all these years I’ve worked here?”

“Well, no, but…” Hide trailed off.

“So what are ya, then?” Marude asked. “I noticed you said queer and not gay.”

“I’m pansexual.”

“Which one is that?”

“It’s kinda like bisexual. Usually people use it to mean more gender-blind, whereas with bisexual there’s usually some internal difference with attraction to each gender. But not all people use it that way.”

Marude hummed and nodded. Hide was glad he accepted it at face value and didn’t try to pick it apart.

“But the past few days, I’m beginning to think I’m something else…”

“What, like you’re just gay or just straight?”

“Not like that.” Hide shook his head. “Like, an additional label.”

“Transgender?” Marude guessed.

“Not trans, but you’re on the right track on how trans is an additional label on a different axis.”

“Then what label are you thinking about adding? I’m at my limit of vocab here!”

“Aromantic.” Hide said, deciding to keep it as simple as possible.

“And that is?”

Here it comes…

“Not experiencing romantic attraction.”

There was silence. Hide braced himself.

“Romantic?” Marude asked. “So, wait. Separate from sexual stuff?”

“For me, yeah. But some other aros don’t experience sexual attraction either.”

Marude hummed. He seemed to accept it, but Hide couldn’t tell what he was thinking beyond that.

“So what’s the issue?” Marude asked.

“I can’t love.” Hide whispered. “And that’s scary.”

“Eh, love’s overrated.” Marude waved him off.

Hide sighed. He was glad Marude was being so accepting, and it was really nice to hear someone not put romance on a pedestal for once, but at the same time Hide wanted some validation for his fears.

“For so long now I’ve prided myself on being loving. And now knowing that I can’t… What am I now?”

“So was everything fake?”

“No. Yes? It’s complicated.” Hide groaned.

“Look, kid. You feel how you feel. You can’t force it or change it. And that goes for everything, not just sexualities.”

“I know.”

“You’re a sweet kid. It’s overbearing to me, but I appreciate that in a world so cruel, people like you exist. And from what I’ve seen, the care you show isn’t fake.”

“The non-romantic love? That’s not fake. But the romance? The crushes and flirting? It’s not fake but… it disappears. Way sooner than it should.”

“Disappears?”

“I think I’m, like, a subset of aromantic? I get crushes but they fade after I’m in a relationship. Way sooner than it should. I’ve been in love with Kaneki for years, but now that we’re a couple, that romantic attraction is gone.”

“That’s certainly a dilemma.”

Hide scoffed. That was an understatement.

“So what do you wanna do about it?” Marude asked.

“Huh?”

“Break up, or keep it up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then just talk to him.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t give you any advice on the romance aspect, but you two have been through things much worse than relationship drama. Just talk to the guy. Can’t be any scarier than what you’ve gone through.”

“I’d beg to differ.” Hide muttered.

Marude rolled his eyes. “Even I know he’s not gonna get pissed and eat you.”

“Of course not! That’s not what I’m afraid of!”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“I don’t want to hurt him.” Hide whispered. “Or make him think I hate him.”

“Just communicate with him. You can’t work it out all alone. You both need to work together, or else how do you even expect your relationship to work?”

Hide sighed. “...I guess you’re right.”

Akira huffed as she sat down next to him. “How do people deal with it?”

Hide gave her a look. “Deal with what?”

“Crushes!” Akira said, as if it was obvious. “They’re so distracting.”

Hide chuckled. They certainly were.

“I thought one was bad enough, but now I have two! Ugh!”

“Oof. That’s rough. I’ve been there.”

“Hey, you’re allo-romantic, right? How do you deal with crushes?”

“Huh? Allo-romantic?” Hide asked. He thought he was pretty well-versed in sexuality terms, but he hadn’t heard that one before.

“It means people who aren’t on the aromantic spectrum.”

“You’re aromantic?” Hide asked. He had known she was asexual for years, but he never knew what her romantic orientation was.

“Demi-romantic.” Akira explained with a nod. “Got my first crush at 20 on a friend, and now a double-whammy of crushes #2 and #3 at 25.”

“Huh.” Hide whispered. He was 22, and it was pretty incredible to imagine only having a single crush in that much time.

Akira-san is aromantic…

“Do you know a lot about aromantic terminology?” Hide decided to ask.

“I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but I have been researching it these past few weeks. Why? What do you want to know?”

“I’ve been wondering if I fall somewhere on there…” Hide said.

“Really?”

“I’ve actually been wondering since high school, but its come back full force now.”

“What makes you think you are?”

“I get a regular amount of crushes, I think. But they, like… fade…?”

Akira hummed in understanding and nodded. “I do recall seeing a few terms like that.”

Hide’s eyes widened. “Really? More than one? Like what?”

“Um, off the top of my head I remember Aroflux, that fluctuates. Hold on.” She pulled out her phone and typed into it.

“Maybe, but that’s a bit vague…” Hide said.

“I know Grey-romantic can be used as an umbrella term.” Akira added. “Ah, here we go! Fray-romantic means you’re only romantically attracted to strangers, and it fades as you get to know them!”

“That’s close, but it’s not that quick. Well, maybe I can use it anyway.” He knew that a lot of queer terms had a lot of grey area to them.

“Oh, and there’s also Lithromantic, that fades at reciprocation!”

“Reciprocation...?” Hide asked, his eyes widening. “That’s… That’s it…”

“Ha, really? That’s awesome!”

“I got crushes and tried to date them, but once I was in a relationship my feelings would disappear. I tried to push on and fake it, but it didn’t work out and we had to break up. Eventually I just gave up dating entirely.”

Hide sighed and held his head in his hands.

Akira frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Kaneki.”

“Kaneki?”

“We just confessed to each other and started officially dating, and I can already feel it fading.”

Akira frowned, not sure what to say.

Hide laid down. “Who’d want to date me? A person who can’t love them back.”

Akira scoffed, laying back to join him. “What about me, huh? Someone who takes forever to like you back, and even then isn’t capable of sexual attraction.”

“You like Amon-san and Takizawa-san, right?” Hide guessed.

“Yeah. So what?”

Hide turned on his side to face her. “Well, Amon-san doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to care about that. And I don’t think Takizawa-san does either. If they really love you, then I’m sure they’d be willing to find a way to meet in the middle.”

Akira sighed, considering his words. Then she gave some of her own, “You know, you and Kaneki are really close. We can all tell. And I know Kaneki, too, and how he is. I’m sure he’d accept your aromanticism. Maybe you could even be in a non-romantic relationship with him.”

Hide blinked. Akira chewed her lip. They were both silent, thinking on each other’s words.

“You really think someone would be okay having a relationship without sex?” Akira asked.

“Of course.” Hide replied. “Do you really think someone would be okay with having a committed relationship that’s not romantic?”

“Of course.” Akira replied.

As he talked, Hide walked around the room, taking in the tiniest of details. And then he came across small pride pins, clipped to her bag laid in the corner.

“Is that what I think it is?!” Hide cried out.

“Huh? What is what you think it is?” Kimi asked, turning around.

“That!” Hide pointed to the pin that had gradients of greens and blacks. “Is that an aromantic pin?”

Kimi’s eyes widened. No one had ever recognized it before. Hardly anyone even recognized her bisexual one. “Yeah. I’m aromantic.”

“Wow.” Hide muttered. “And I know the bi one, but… what’s this other one?” He pointed to the one on the other side of the aromantic pin, the one with stripes making a gradient from pink to green.

“It’s aroflux.” Kimi said. “I fall in the grey area of the aromantic spectrum.”

Hide untensed his shoulders. “You know… I think I do, too.”

“Really?”

“I’m Lith-romantic, I’m pretty sure.”

“Neat! It’s always exciting to meet more aromantics!”

“You know others?”

“Nishiki-kun is arospec too. And I’ve helped a few other people question.”

“Nishio-senpai is too?! You’re in a relationship with another aromantic?! That’s amazing!”

“Tell me about it! It was just a coincidence! He didn’t know he was aromantic before I told him about aromanticism! Although, in hindsight I guess it explains why we fit so well together. We both have very complicated feelings on romance, that our previous partners never were able to grasp.”

Hide felt warm and happy, a sense of comfort and kinship coming over him. He often had a lot of internalized dislike of his aromanticism, but it was really nice to talk to someone who was similar — someone else who was on the aromantic spectrum.

Whenever he talked to other people — other allo-romantics, was the term Akira had used — they never grasped what he was trying to explain and always blew it off. As much as he liked people and socialized, he always felt a heavy disconnect from them.

And it suddenly dawned on him. He knew three arospecs so far, and Kimi had implied more.

#tokyo ghoul #aromantic #aro #lithromantic #demiromantic #aroflux #hideyoshi nagachika #itsuki marude #kimi nishino #akira mado #tg #lithro!hide #demiro!akira #aroflux!kimi #fanfiction #syn writes

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photorose11 · 4 years

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Us Against The World

I am terrible at posting super late, ugh. When is my life NOT busy. lol I won’t go into it though. Here is my fic towards day nine of Ichiruki month! :) This randomly popped into my head last night, I couldn’t sleep so I stayed up super late writing it. Yes, it’s sappy. I am a sap. lol A lot of people liked my ‘I see you fall to pieces like a Hero’ fic, which made me really happy! I always appreciate the feedback; you guys bring joy into my life. Which I can definitely use more of lately, so thank you. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach, wah.

_______

Rukia had been hoping it would be a normal day. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Rukia gave a frustrated sigh, leaning her back on the bench she was sitting on at the park near Ichigo’s house.

No, this was definitely not how she thought today would turn out.

It had started off like any other day since she had returned back. Since Ichigo’s powers were restored. It had been a week now.

A whole week Rukia noticed that something with Ichigo seemed.. off. She did not know how else to put it. She had noticed on more then one occasion how flustered he would get with her at times, each time he would look away; a blush on his cheeks before she would stomp on his foot or poke him in the chest; snapping him out of it.

They bickered as they usually did. How they always had.

Yet even Rukia noticed something seemed different between them. It was not something she had much time to really think about since returning. She had caught up with his family and their friends in the last week, in between fighting hollows with Ichigo, much to his delight.

Things had been going well, even with Ichigo acting off.

Until he had kissed her.

Rukia tapped her foot on the ground, her nails digging into her thigh as she thought back to that moment that had happened only half an hour ago.

They had gotten ready for bed. Rukia ready before him, she had went to lay on his bed and doodle in her sketchbook until he was ready for bed; and then go to her closet to sleep.

She had not expected him to say her name how he did when he entered his bedroom. Curious, she had turned her head to look up at him as he stood in the doorway. Eyebrow raised at the expression on his face, she had gotten up off the bed, placing her sketchbook in her closet before meeting his eyes again.

Their eyes had stayed locked on one another for what only felt like a second before he quickly took the few steps needed to be in front of her; leaning down and kissing her.

Rukia Kuchiki had never felt more shocked in her life.

She couldn’t tell if she had been more shocked that he had kissed her or the fact that she had kissed him back without hesitation. When he pulled away, looking down at her; she had froze. Violet eyes wide in surprise staring back up at him, before she quickly walked past him and ran out the door.

The raven haired Shinigami had bolted fast out of the bedroom, almost knocking into Karin as she exited her bedroom. Karin had given her a questioning look, about to ask her what was wrong but by then Rukia had been gone. Running down the stairs and out the front door, before she felt the sob in her throat come out as she kept running.

—-

Watching Rukia bolt out his bedroom door, Ichigo realized what he had done may not have been the best moment to do so.

Shit.

It wasn’t something be bad planned. He had not thought it through. He couldn’t think when he had entered his bedroom, seeing her laying on his bed in her nightgown, doodling in her sketchbook. He could only think how beautiful she looked. How much he had missed her.

Ichigo could not explain what he had been feeling since he had been reunited with Rukia. Every time he remembered watching her appear back into his view, after she had thrusted the sword through his chest; he felt something in his very soul that he could not ignore.

Their eyes had met, for the first time in seventeen long agonizing months; and Ichigo had known in that moment that he was in love with her, and it shook him to the very core.

He should have known. Considering how much he had missed her the last seventeen months of his miserable life without her. Considering how many dreams he had of her, the first month after their goodbye the raven haired Shinigami was in his dreams every night.

No one knew, but he had broke when she had left. After his friends had gone home, he had quickly disappeared back into his room; where he fell to his knees and cried.

Ichigo should have known.

The last week, spending time with her. Bickering with her. Fighting Hollows with her. Sharing moments with her. He could not ignore what he felt. He had tried to. Some moments Rukia would catch him whenever he zoned out (thinking of her) she would snap him out of it and they would continue on as usual.

Like things were normal between them.

Ichigo knew that things were not.

Which is why when he had saw her on his bed, relaxed and happy.. something in him had snapped. He did not realize he had even said her name until she looked over at him before standing up and laying her sketchbook in her closet. He couldn’t breathe, when their eyes met once she had looked up at him. He knew in that moment that there was no more holding back.

Ichigo had kissed her, and to his surprise she had kissed him back. He was expecting her to push him away, slap him over the head or kick him where it would really really hurt.. but instead she had eagerly responded back, without hesitation as she leaned up more as she gripped the front of his shirt in her hands.

When he had pulled away, the look in her violet eyes stole his breath away. It was similar to the last look she had given him when she had faded from his view seventeen months ago. Which he found ironic, because just like that moment from long ago; she had left. Before he could even blink, she was gone.

Ichigo ran to leave his bedroom to run after her, almost running into Karin in the process. His sister gave him an angry look, scowling up at him.

“What the hell did you do, Ichigo?” She asked, anger evident in her tone. Ichigo frowned, looking off behind Karin.

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Before his sister could question him further, he ran past her and was out of the house before she could even process what had just happened.

Ichigo stopped running once he hit the sidewalk, it pained him to do so because all he wanted to do was find her as quickly as possible and explain to her. But he knew it was probably best he take his time to find her, and give her the time she needed to think.

——-

Rukia looked up at the moon, as the memory played back in her mind on repeat.

She couldn’t ignore what she had been feeling for Ichigo for so long now. Since they had said goodbye seventeen months ago. It became even harder to ignore once they were reunited.

She definitely could not ignore how kissing him made her feel. It had felt right.

Perfect.

Life changing.

In that moment Rukia had felt like her heart could burst from her chest, due to the amount of love she felt for him.

She knew she was completely in love with him.

Then why did she run from him?

Laying a hand on her forehead, she gave another sigh before sniffing. She refused to cry anymore. She knew she should be happy. He had kissed her, which meant he must have been feeling the same things she had been feeling lately.

She wondered for how long.

She also wondered how they would get through this.

Looking back up at the moon again, Rukia knew in her heart why she had ran.

Rukia Kuchiki was scared shitless.

She had blocked out her heart for decades. Ever since Kaien Shiba’s death. Then she had met Ichigo Kurosaki and her whole life had been shifted off its axis and before she had known it she was overwhelmingly in love with him. It made her heart race. It made her chest hurt. It made her want to scream, to laugh, to cry.

Then he had kissed her.

She may have ran from him afterwards, but she knew she could not run away from her love for him. Rukia knew with the look he had given her before she bolted out the door, that he loved her. He loved her so much, and it frightened her.

Rukia gave a small laugh before another sob escaped her, a hand going to her mouth as she smiled through her tears because in that moment she realized something very important.

Rukia Kuchiki was scared of his love for her, but more then anything else, It brought her soul so much joy.

—-

“Hey.”

Ichigo slowly walked over to her, sitting beside her on the bench; making sure not to be to close to her.

It was silent for a moment before Ichigo sighed, looking over at her before looking up at the full moon.

“I’m sorry. I.. didn’t plan on doing that.”

Rukia couldn’t help but give a small smile before snorting at his words. It had been very obvious to her that he did not plan on doing that. The shocked expression on his face after he had kissed her had been a dead giveaway.

“I just..” she raised an eyebrow, looking over as he placed his elbows on his knees; before putting his face in his hands. It was silent for a long moment, but then he lifted his head up and turned to look at her. Their eyes met, and she knew.

“You drive me crazy, Rukia.” He broke their gaze as he gave a frustrated sigh, leaning his back on the bench before looking back up at the moon. She continued watching him, waiting for him to explain.

“Ever since I met you.. you’ve always been an incredibly selfless person. Hell, you risked your life to save mine the first night we met. You’ve risked everything for me. You’ve almost gotten yourself killed on multiple occasions, just so you could save me. It drives me fucking crazy.”

Rukia’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide staring at him before she sat up straighter and scowled. What the hell was he even trying to say?

Before she could reply beck, he turned towards her; a hand going to one of her knees. She looked at his hand, before looking back up at him and she stilled at the expression on his face.

“It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

Ichigo smiled at her then, a genuine smile that reached his eyes as he scooted himself closer to her. She didn’t know what to say.

“There are so many reasons. I love how passionate you are about being a Shinigami. I love how you protect everyone, no matter the risk. Even though it terrifies me to think that one day it may be the cause of you dying.”

He reached his other hand out then, laying a hand over her heart. She watched him stare at his hand for a long moment before their eyes met again. A chill ran down her spine.

“I love that you’re loyal to your friends and to your comrades. I love that you care so deeply for others, even if it hurts you to do so at times. Because I know you, Rukia. I know when you’re scared.”

Rukia wanted to cry at his words. He knew her down to her very soul, he always had. Seventeen months had passed by and yet he seemed to still know her better then she even knew herself at times. She knew then that he understood why she had ran.

“It’s okay to be scared. You may not be human, but you have a soul.” He took his hand off her knee, gently taking one of her hands in his before placing it over his heart.

“I have a soul too. Souls can not help what they feel. It’s not a bad thing. I know what I feel in my heart is not a bad thing.”

Rukia trembled as he spoke, his hand laying over hers as she felt his heart beat under her hand.

“It’s not bad that I’m scared?” she whispered out, afraid to look up at him. He gave a small laugh, his hand over her heart going to her shoulder.

“It’s normal, Rukia. I.. didn’t expect this to happen. You’ve always been important to me. The most important person to me. When I saw you again a week ago, after seventeen months of not being able to.. I knew I felt love for you. I knew in that moment that I’m in love with you. It terrifies me a little, to be honest.”

Her head snapped up then when she heard him mention love. She knew he had felt things, had known since he had kissed her.. but he..

“You’re in love with me?”

Rukia watched as he blushed, turning his head to the side a little so she wouldn’t see his face turning red.

“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, before hesitantly meeting her violet eyes again. She couldn’t stop herself as she leaned forward, forehead resting beside where their hands were intertwined now on his chest. He brought his other arm over her shoulders as he held her to him.

“Was it obvious that I love you?”

The question was said softly, he barely heard her as her face was pressed against his shirt.

“No- wait; you do?”

Rukia slowly pulled away then, a coy smile on her face as she watched his blush spread across his face.

“Of course I do, fool.”

It was him this time that was surprised, when she leaned up to kiss him; a hand going to his face as he kissed her back. In this moment, she knew the joy she felt was stronger then her fear of love.

Because her love towards Ichigo was more beautiful then anything else.

Ever since they had met, it had always been the two of them. Side by side. As best friends. As comrades. Soul partners, really.

He had saved her so many times, she had lost count. He had went up against all of Soul Society in order to save her life.

As Rukia slowly pulled away from their kiss, smiling up at him as he looked at her in complete adoration; she knew no matter what it would always be them up against the world.

Rukia Kuchiki was definitely not afraid of that.

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kindafooey · 3 years

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1/2) While I think his heart is in the right place, Ryukishi's handling of those war crimes had some unfortunate implications. The story implies that the Marco Polo Bridge incident was instigated by a paranoid Hinamizawa soldier. And moreover, scenes with Irie and Takano toyed with the idea that other parasitic diseases are responsible for religions, ideologies, and subsequent wars that came about in part because of them. Aside from that being ridiculously pseudoscientific (seriously, you'd

2/2) really have to stretch in order to explain away things like conversions, sects, and people becoming atheists), it comes dangerously close to apologism. Going by Irie's logic, the Axis powers didn't commit atrocities of their own free will, but because fictitious diseases made them do it. It's just another form of avoiding responsibility.

Anon, my dude, I don't know if you're following this blog or just passing by, but I hope you realize you've put me into a difficult position here, because um. I wrote my thesis on metahistory, so this is kinnnnda right in the middle of my field of expertise, and now I'm tempted to write up a reply that's half the length of my thesis, but I'm supposed to be writing self-indulgent fic today, so ima keep my answer as short as possible. 😅 So, in short:

Yes, it's apologism, but that's pretty much the whole point and acknowledged several times in-story - if I wasn't so decidedly busy today, I'd go back for actual screenshots, but since I know you're familiar with the source material, I'll assume you simply didn't remember that this aspect of the parasitism theory is repeatedly brought to question in several scenes of Matsuribayashi-hen, starting from the prologue scene where Dr. Takano explains it himself. (In fact, it's strongly implied that the theory was incorrect to begin with, seeing as they were never able to gain any substantial proof of the parasites' existence despite their numerous attempts at dissecting both dead and live specimens. What we learned afterwards from Umineko only strengthens this doubt.)

I'm sure you know this already, but I'll reiterate for clarity's sake: taboo is one of the central themes in Higurashi, and the questions surrounding the Marco Polo Bridge incident reflect that theme perfectly. Putting aside the fictional syndrome inserted as the trigger to the incident, Ryukishi clearly implies that, at least in-universe, Japan was the first to attack, and was ready to prevent this from coming to light at the cost of over 2000 civilian lives. Even in a fictional setting, this argument is HUGE coming from Japanese popular media, and probably the reason it was cut from the anime adaptation. (As a relevant side note/kind of random book rec, 'Purity and Danger' by Mary Douglas is a classic of cultural anthropology and a mind-blowing read on the concept of taboo, def worth checking out if you find yourself interested in the subject!)

In even shorter: brain parasitism is readily discussed in-story as a post-war medical taboo, and the Marco Polo Bridge incident as a political taboo. If Ryukishi had meant to use this fictional setting as means of shirking Japanese responsibility in war crimes, he probably wouldn't have painstakingly depicted the political conspiracies and unethical countermeasures that were put into play just to prevent the knowledge of Japan's initiation at Marco Polo Bridge from coming to light.

It's an understandable misinterpretation, though! The prologue bit where Dr. Takano explains to Miyo why brain parasitism has become taboo after the war, and the way he seems to view said taboo purely as a hindrance to scientific progress, does make your hair stand up a bit for the reasons you mentioned. But those ideas were voiced just to show what kind of influence Miyo had been subjected to, and Irie does strictly refute this kind of thinking in a later scene. But you know, that's just what makes Ryukishi's characterization game so freaking strong. There's no sock puppetry going on, and some deductive work is left to the reader as well.

In any case, thank you for this wonderful ask! I was actually having trouble falling asleep last night and happened to check my phone, and contemplating this ask turned out to be just the thing my brain needed to chill and get some z’s at last. ^^

#higurashi #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi spoilers #(tagging just in case since there's quite a lot of new fans because of gou)#not gf

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xlady-saya · 4 years

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there’s always more to learn [fic]

Pairings: andrew/neil, aaron/katelyn

Tags: wholesome twinyards, fluff, more aaron suffering, references to canon violence/abuse

read on ao3!

Aaron's leg bounces impatiently as the clock in Bee's office ticks agonizingly slow. There's only five minutes left in today's session, and Aaron is more than ready to bolt out of there.

Katelyn is waiting. The weekend is waiting.

He's glad they rescheduled this week's session to Friday, but it doesn't make the waiting easier. If anything, time is seeping like molasses.

To his left, Andrew is stirring his fifth mug of cocoa with a spoon, even though there's no reason to mix it. Every few seconds, out of time with the ticking clock, the spoon hits the side of the cup and clangs into the quiet of the room.

Aaron is almost positive Andrew does this on purpose just to annoy him. Every. Time.

Aaron slides a glare towards his twin, with less heat than usual, while Andrew stares innocently ahead.

Aaron rolls his eyes; Andrew can act as unaffected as he wants, he's probably just as impatient. Aaron sees it in the subtle fidgeting, the way Andrew just can't quite seem to get comfortable in the cozy armchair.

What an ass, Aaron thinks, but there's an edge of fondness to it. Today's session had actually been...pleasant. He feels smooth, cleansed, instead of just raw.

This was becoming a more common occurrence, much to Aaron's shock. Sure, they would still discuss Tilda, or the trial, or the years spent apart, unaware of each other’s existence. Those conversations never got easy, but they got better. When they first started going to these joint therapy sessions, Aaron would storm out more often than not. The days he stayed meant tense, murderous silence, or cutting words which tore open new issues neither one of them even knew about.

The silence which settles over them this time is different. It's satisfied, not full of tension waiting to explode because of one of Aaron's careless remarks or Andrew's bluntness.

It's been like this for a while now. Aaron talks, Andrew responds, Bee mediates. They take small steps forward, with the occasional leap, but more often than not they get mutual understanding out of each other.

It's still a battle some days, but the fact Andrew is actually putting in an effort is enough to make Aaron put in his own.

Ever since he'd grown to accept Andrew's feelings for Neil as equivalent to his own for Katelyn, things had been moving even faster in the right direction.

It's why today is even possible, when months ago it would've been a terrible idea.

Aaron's stomach flips at the reminder of Katelyn, waiting for him outside, and he probably looks like he has to take a giant shit with how he has to force down his giddy smile.

Andrew shifts in his seat again, staring at the clock.

Of course, Bee misses none of it. She's usually more than happy to engage in small talk to wind down the last five minutes of their sessions, but today she'd let them sit in the comfortable silence, simply at peace with one another. Now though, with three minutes on the clock, she chooses to comment.

Goddamn shrinks...

"Well, you two seem excited," she says, voice warm without being prying. They don't have to respond, there's no pressure there, and Aaron decides eh, why not?

Andrew grunts something which Aaron takes as his attempt at denial, because after all, Andrew doesn't feel excitement. Or, that's what he used to say. It's becoming a less frequent statement, one Bee no doubt finds joy in. There's hardly any real fight in Andrew's unimpressed stare, and he doesn't seem to have any desire to elaborate. Bee must sense it too, Andrew's implied agreement to her statement, and she beams at his progress.

Aaron shares a look with his twin, who just shrugs, like he can't be bothered with explaining.

'You do it,' the looks says. Aaron still isn't used to how normal this feels, making plans with his brother, talking about them, spending time together that isn't part of some deal or debt.

"Katelyn and I have a mini golf date after this," he tells Bee, letting his face relax into a small smile. He can't help it when Katelyn is involved, and he wonders if the affection will ever wear off. He hopes not. "She invited Neil and Andrew."

'O-M-G, a double date!' Nicky had proclaimed obnoxiously, tears welling in his eyes. 'I'm so proud of you guys!'

Idiot.

But, he wasn't wrong. Aaron hadn't expected Andrew to say yes, but before he knew it they bought the tickets and made plans to drive to the mini-golf course after their session. It's new territory, with a lot of room for error, but Aaron lets himself be hopeful for once.

Either way, he gets to spend the night with Katelyn and hold her close while she tries to line up the ball.

Aaron sighs dreamily; it's a date night, so Katelyn will probably wear a skirt. He can't wait.

Beside him, Andrew scoffs.

"That's lovely!" Bee says, her face lighting up and she pulls her hands together. "I think it's great you two are spending more time together."

'More time.' More than the study sessions and video game nights. Voluntary time, and it's actually...not awful.

Aaron looks over to his twin and decides to say fuck it once again. This is what therapy is for right? Trying to be honest?

"Me too," he mutters, reluctant but no less truthful. Andrew's eyes slide over to him and they share a long look. Andrew's blank mask gives nothing away, but there's something swimming in the void beneath, an intensity, an acquiescence. Andrew tilts his head forward, a ghost of a nod, and Aaron's chest tightens up.

A beat passes and Andrew finally takes a sip of cocoa before he speaks, tone giving nothing away. "I just want to prove Neil isn't good at every sport."

Aaron snorts, he'd like to see that too. So far, the Foxes had been unable to find a physical activity Neil didn't pick up fast.

It's infuriating.

Satisfied with sharing like this for the remaining few minutes, Aaron sighs again. "Katelyn is cute when she focuses too hard on the game," he tells Bee, already picturing Katelyn's flushed face when her ball barely misses the hole-in-one.

Bee's smile turns a little smug. "It seems they're both competitive then?"

"I guess," Aaron says with a shrug, not really thinking about it. Katelyn is a hard worker, she hates to lose. It's sexy and adorable, and whoever wins usually gets a reward when they get home...

Aaron fully intends to cash in.

Andrew scoffs, like it doesn't even begin to cover Neil. It really doesn't. The little asshole is probably already taking the fucking game too seriously, and it's mini-golf. Aaron doesn't get how he and Katelyn get along so well, Neil's intensity is on another level.

It pisses Aaron off.

Bee's laugh is delicate, a chirp. "I must say, when you told me the two of them were becoming fast friends all those months ago, I wasn't surprised," she says. "Though I suppose you two must've already had a laugh about it."

The assumption that Andrew has ever 'had a laugh' while sober isn't worth pointing out, he's sure Bee knows anyways.

Andrew squints at her at the same time Aaron does, and something close to confusion settles on his usually neutral features. They share a look, and it suddenly feels like they're treading on thin ice.

Aaron hopes he's just paranoid, like he doesn't hear a bomb countdown in his head.

"What do you mean?" Aaron asks, cautiously. When Neil and Katelyn began to hang out, neither he nor Andrew really tried to stop it. It wasn't their call, but back then they'd been less than happy about it. Aaron had been shocked; after all, Andrew had threatened Katelyn while Neil just watched. Somehow, the event was less scary in Katelyn’s mind now, and it bloomed into some begrudging respect for Neil which had no issue spiraling into a weird friendship. Now, it's just a fact of life.

Aaron has no doubt Neil would throw Katelyn to the dogs for Andrew or the Foxes, but he treats Katelyn well and never lies to her, something she seems to value immensely from him.

Aaron doesn't get it, but Katelyn likes Neil and Neil doesn’t seem opposed to her either. Whatever.

He and Andrew don't mention it, never had a sit down about it. They certainly never had a laugh about it. Why would they?

"Well, the two of them are so alike," Bee goes on, oblivious to the tension leaking into the space. Her smile is pleasant, teasing. "It just goes to show how you and Andrew have similar tastes despite being so different."

The world freezes on its axis.

Andrew inhales a little too loudly the same time Aaron chokes on his spit. "W-What?"

The question levitates in the air, a second away from freefall.

Deceptively calm, Andrew puts his mug down with a harsh thud on the coffee table. Their time is up, but neither of them move.

Aaron would feel pride at seeing Bee so dumbstruck, if his brain wasn't liquifying in his head.

"Oh," Bee breathes, looking between the two of them slowly. She purses her lips. "You didn't know."

It's the match which lights the fire in Aaron's blood. He shoots forward, hands clenched in the couch cushions.

"That bastard is nothing like Katelyn!" Aaron spits, and Bee's smile is gone. How could she even think that?

In an instant, Aaron pictures a side by side of Katelyn and Neil. His cute, put together girlfriend who always smiles and gets along with everyone.

Then there's fucking Neil, and his all hoodie wardrobe with resting bitch face and a short fuse.

And okay, perhaps he should've phrased that better. He has no issues with his twin's relationship anymore, but he isn't exactly ready to entertain the idea that...oh god no, it's impossible.

Dobson's really off her rocker with this one.

Their feelings are the same, not their significant others.

"Aaron, that language is insulting," she reprimands, gesturing to his brother. "Neil is very important to Andrew--"

"I'll allow it," Andrew interrupts with a hand raised, shocking them all. Aaron realizes too late what the concession means though. It's classic Andrew philosophy: equal exchange. He wheels on Aaron quickly, the motion smooth and deliberate. "Sorority girl isn't exactly defying any stereotypes. Even if I was inclined to women, I doubt she'd do it for me."

Translation: 'My bastard is nothing like Katelyn, thank fuck for that.'

"Fuck you Andrew," Aaron bites back. It's a weird feeling, arguing without being enraged. There's no threat of violence here, and Aaron laughs at the ridiculousness of it. "Josten could offer to put me through med school and I still wouldn't screw him."

Andrew leans back, eyes scanning Aaron up and down. "Why would Neil want anything to do with a face like yours?"

"I look just like you."

"Mm," Andrew hums, unconvinced.

Bee looks at her watch, as if considering how far she wants to let this go given the time. "Perhaps it's best we unpack this another time. Aaron, I do want you to think about why it is you feel so insulted. I thought you liked having good things in common with Andrew?"

"I do, but not this!" Aaron says, fake retching. Andrew just stews in his chair.

He and Andrew having similar tastes in who they like is not something he can handle. It's way too close for comfort, and although he's accepted Neil's importance in his brother's life, that doesn't mean he's suddenly Aaron's favorite person.

Neil...Katelyn...alike...

Aaron's brain scrambles to piece it together.

Something akin to amusement crosses Bee's face before it disappears, and Aaron glares at her as murderously as he can manage.

"Look Bee, we're agreeing," Andrew says after a bit, tipping his mug of cocoa back as if it were a shot. "Are you proud?"

Well, at least they're on the same page about Bee's latest opinion: it's completely unfounded.

"Katelyn is sweet, and kind, and considerate," Aaron lists. "Your boy toy is abrasive, impulsive, and doesn't know how to keep his damn mouth shut!"

Andrew shrugs, unimpressed. "You say all that like they're bad things."

"To most people they are."

"Boring."

Before Aaron can launch into another tirade, Bee decides she's had enough. She laughs amicably, putting up her hands in surrender. The sound is lighthearted, and it's amazing how she can sense when the twins are having a legitimate fight versus just being asshole siblings; normal.

Aaron crosses his arms at the same time Andrew does.

"I only meant that they are alike in their feelings for you, and how they express them," Bee points out, as she has many times before. Aaron forces himself to listen to her try to backpedal. "They're both pillars of strength in your lives who you communicate well with. Right?"

Aaron and Andrew share another look; it's hard for them to admit still, but they passed that milestone weeks ago. They mumble their agreement under their breath.

Bee grins.

"But well, you're right I suppose," she sighs, patting down the ruffles of her skirt as she stands. "They have very different personalities. You two would know best."

Yeah, we would.

"Anyways, I've kept you too long as is. Go have fun on your date," Bee says, serene smile back in place. Something in the air shifts, and Aaron can't place the feeling.

Maybe it's impending doom.

Andrew still regards his therapist with suspicion as he stands, as if waiting for something else, something more.

But Bee only waves at them as they cross the room to the door. "See you both next week!"

When they walk out of Reddin, Neil is leaning against the hood of the Maserati with Katelyn. They're talking about something, probably that show Katelyn had gotten Neil into the past month (very hard to accomplish, Matt is still asking her how she did it). It's a normal sight, seeing them calmly discussing and laughing every now and again.

But now, instead of brushing it off, Aaron analyzes everything.

Ah, that's what he felt earlier. A seed being planted.

This is a fucking nightmare.

Aaron almost thinks he's the only one affected, until Andrew falters in step beside him. The blond pauses, hesitation clear in his movements. It's so unlike Andrew, it sends chills down Aaron's spine.

Aaron watches the light bounce through Katelyn's reddish brown hair, as if lighting it on fire with streaks of gold. She's gorgeous, with sun-kissed skin and blue eyes which never fail to make Aaron melt.

Usually, the sight makes all his problems disappear; Katelyn has a way of clearing his head, making him feel sane.

But then his eyes slide over to Neil, and oh god, he sees it. He can't unsee it. Neil's messy bangs catch the sunlight in almost the same way, bringing out more of its reddish color. Icy blue eyes stand out against tan skin, the result of hours spent on a track. Even with the scars, the resemblance is there.

They're basically the same height too, which is just another fuck you from the universe.

"It just goes to show how you and Andrew have similar tastes despite being so different."

"Andrew," he whispers to his brother, fearful, urgent.

Andrew's response is so quick it burns Aaron. "No," he states, end of conversation. Aaron gets the message loud and clear. If we don't talk about it we can pretend it's not true.

Aaron is 100% on board.

They walk towards the car, making their presence known, and Neil and Katelyn spot them at the same time. Their faces light up in almost the same way, though Neil's expression is more guarded, toned down for Andrew's sake. Is this always how it happens?

Aaron groans internally.

Yup, pretending is going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Andrew stills a little, and Neil's smile falters, raising an eyebrow in question. Andrew shakes his head, and it's enough. Neil relaxes in an instant.

The way they do that will never not be creepy.

It settles Aaron for the moment; Neil and Andrew are so different from him and Katelyn in everything they do. Still, he has a feeling this isn't the end of this.

For now though, he pushes the thought away as he reaches Katelyn, letting her kiss his cheek and wash his worries away. He really is excited to spend time with her, he'd be with her all the time if he could. He'll never understand why she looks at him like that, he doesn't deserve it. There's an adoration in her eyes every time he walks into a room, like she's the lucky one.

How wrong she is.

"Ready to lose?" She teases, hooking her pinky around his as they pile into the backseat. Aaron smirks at the challenge.

Oh, she's going to get it. "We'll see."

Aaron glances up to see what the hold up is, only to find Andrew whispering with Neil as his hand slowly trails down Neil's arm. The touch is gentle, and strangely intimate. Andrew's hand stops at Neil's wrist, pressing down. Neil laughs breathily, and Aaron catches the end of some Russian words.

He doesn't understand them, but he knows no one else is meant to hear.

He tears his gaze away to settle in the back with Katelyn, giving her all his attention, and doesn't bat an eye when Neil and Andrew slip into the front seats.

Neil is going to win, because of course he is.

It becomes painfully obvious five holes in, with Neil's natural movements and controlled tilts of the club.

Andrew's face gives away nothing the entire time, but the subtle shift of his eyes between his club and Neil's triumphant face says a lot.

The striker has already managed three holes in one, with Andrew close behind with two, but at this point his twin has to know it's a lost cause. Aaron doesn't miss the twitch of Andrew's jaw, and it's enough to soothe the blow of Neil being good at something.

Sorta.

Cutely, Katelyn blows her bangs out of her face, determined to catch up. She's been frozen with the ball lined up for a good two minutes now, and Aaron is in no mood to rush her. Her skirt flutters in the wind, her face flushed from the breeze. Aaron's jacket is short on her, matching well with her crop top. Sometimes Aaron wonders if she dresses off season just for the excuse to wear his clothes.

He hopes she never stops, and his eyes scan the smooth skin of her abdomen.

Aaron gives up around hole six. It's not just his dead last ranking, he's never been good at golf. It's mostly because winning isn't the real goal for the night.

Katelyn flicks her eyes to him as she smiles, full of apology for taking too long. Like Aaron minds.

He doubts Andrew and Neil notice either; he watches Andrew follow Neil to the next hole with disinterest, like he regrets the whole evening. Aaron can't see his face from where he stands, but he sees Neil's soften at something in his twin's expression.

Yeah, the rest of the world might as well be chopped liver. Aaron can relate.

He turns back to Katelyn, and recalls analyzing her for a different reason. When they first started playing, he'd tracked her and Neil's movements, watching them both tilt their heads left and right, appraising the perfect angles. Neil's hand would come up to brush his bangs at the same time Katelyn's did, and they'd bite down on their bottom lips in anticipation.

It was almost synchronized.

He and Andrew exchanged a glance, but said nothing.

Stupid. Coincidence. Don't think about it.

And since then, Aaron hasn’t. His mood has been too good.

With Andrew and Neil out of sight, Aaron allows himself a smile, and slides up behind Katelyn. His hands rest easily on her hips, and she doesn't even flinch at the contact, so used to Aaron's hands. So trusting.

Aaron swallows down the lump in his throat. Ever since the trial, he thought she'd be done with him. Katelyn, her future so promising and heart so pure...

What could she want with someone like him, hands stained with blood?

But she'd never hesitated to pull him back.

"Mm, hi," Katelyn giggles, leaning back into him as her hips sway. "Gonna help me line up?"

Aaron rolls his eyes fondly, placing his hands over the grip, swinging the club forward slightly. "I don't know how much more I can do. You're taking this a little too far for someone nearly in last."

She scoffs, affronted. "Says the one actually in last. Thank goodness Neil is as competitive as me."

Aaron tries not to stiffen. "Ugh, he's so annoying."

Katelyn laughs, reading Aaron's groan as his normal Neil-based contempt. He grips her waist tighter, forcing Bee's words away.

"I knew I'd never win," Aaron shrugs, ignoring his girlfriend's smirk as best he can. "We can be losers together."

"I don't feel like a loser with you," she whispers, turning her head to graze her lips along his ear. Aaron doesn't bother to repress his shiver.

"Sap."

"You like it."

And in that moment, Aaron can no longer resist. He steals Katelyn's lips in a passionate kiss, thankful there's no one else around thanks to the chilly weather. Katelyn whimpers in his mouth, her muscles turning to jelly, and she swings the club lightly before abandoning it completely.

The ball flies way off course, bouncing from the green and onto the sidewalk, but he doesn't care. Neither of them do, and he sighs when Katelyn leans all the way into him.

When Katelyn's legs are less jelly-like, she runs off to collect her ball while Aaron trudges ahead. He doesn't expect to see the shadows of Neil and Andrew still at the next hole; he and Katelyn were preoccupied for a while, but when he catches a glimpse of the scene, he understands.

It's over and done the moment Andrew hears his footsteps, moving away from Neil in one swift movement.

It's like nothing ever happened, Andrew's hands stuffed in his pockets; the only evidence is Neil hastily picking up his club.

But Aaron saw.

He didn't miss the closeness, Neil's back pressed to Andrew's chest as he leaned back for a kiss. He heard the end of Neil's sigh, his body melting to relax against Andrew.

Ah yes, he understands the sense of impending doom in Bee's office now. This is definitely going to be another one of those lessons isn't it?

He sighs; there's no avoiding it, only postponing. He walks up the Andrew calmly, not meeting his eye, even when Katelyn and Neil stand side by side again. It's so clear, like this.

Aaron glares into the void.

He wants to groan, to hate this.

But he can't.

The universe is an even bigger bitch than Neil.

Once the seed had been planted, it was like there was evidence everywhere. It's as if they'd been walking through a crime scene for months but just now noticed all the bloodshed.

They're sitting in the stadium lounge because of a rainstorm, waiting for the rain to subside just enough to get to their cars. Nicky complains loudly in the corner about missing his phone date with Erik, and Aaron blocks out the more inappropriate details.

He's in a good mood again; Katelyn came to see him practice, since cheer practice had been cancelled. She sits at the low coffee table in the lounge, scribbling away in her journal and shooting Aaron flirty glances.

It's great, and not even the Foxes' bickering can change that.

The lightning cuts through the walls again.

Okay, maybe they should leave.

Normally after a grueling practice, the Foxes would've braved the elements no matter how bad. They all just wanted to go home. Today is especially bad, lightning crackling in the sky.

Allison had been adamant they wait, but it seemed to only be getting worse.

"If even a single raindrop gets on me, it's your ass Day," she states, almost out of nowhere.

Kevin looks up from his dumb homework, wrinkles looking as old as his soul. Aaron is waiting for the day he snaps. It's one of the only bets he participates in. "Why me?"

Allison shrugs, like it's obvious. "I dunno, just feel like it."

"You do make it easy Kevin," Nicky interrupts, nodding sagely. Aaron actually laughs.

"Stop bullying Kevin, it's giving me a headache," Wymack yells from where he's polishing their trophy, probably just as unhappy at their presence. There's only so much he can tolerate in one day. He loves them, but they're all assholes.

"You're his father, you're biased," Nicky shoots back, flipping imaginary hair over his shoulder.

"You think I want to hear him whine?"

Kevin's hands go up in offense. The edges of a tribal tattoo peek out from where his sleeve falls, a work in progress that’s still healing and that they’re all pretty sure makes Wymack cry. "I literally did nothing to deserve this."

Katelyn's laugh is sweet and good natured, cutting through their usual banter. "You guys are such sweet friends!"

Dan and Matt beam from where they're flopped over each other on the couch, more content to watch the rest of them argue. They're being oddly clingy, and Aaron doubts he's going to be seeing his room anytime soon.

"Aw, and you're an angel!" Nicky slides onto the floor next to Katelyn, hugging her tight. She's one of the only ones who can take the crushing weight of Nicky's hugs. "How did Aaron get so lucky?"

And well, he really must be in a good mood, because his reply comes smoothly and without hesitation. He doesn't care who's around. "I don't know," he breathes out with a smile, and Katelyn's eyes widen, icy blue shining in adoration.

The moment doesn't last long. A chorus of 'awws' fill the room, and Aaron's smile shifts into a frown almost comically. "Oh shut the fuck up."

Cigarette smoke fills his nostrils, and he looks to where his brother is dutifully smoking a cigarette indoors. He guesses Wymack is too tired to scold him, but for once Andrew's bored stare is welcome. At least he never has to worry about Andrew joining in on the Foxes' teasing.

Not in the traditional way anyways.

Andrew's eyes flick to the locker room entrance every now and again, waiting for Neil to emerge. He catalogs it for later, as ammo, before his attention flies back to Katelyn.

Katelyn bites her lip to keep down her grin, but then her eyes widen in gleeful realization. She pops up to join him against the wall, pulling out a few colorful bags from her backpack.

Instantly, Aaron knows what they are, can almost taste the salt. He's never been good with cravings, obviously.

He smiles at his own morbid joke, but it's overshadowed by actual appreciation. If Andrew has a thing for ice cream, then Aaron has a thing for chips. Specifically, this brand, with its alternating flavors.

"I almost forgot! I was at the store earlier and I saw these," Katelyn says as Aaron is already tearing open a bag. "It's the flavor you like, so I bought a big stash. It's under my bed at the dorm."

God, Aaron could marry her right then. He bites down on a chip, biting back a sigh. He's lucky he plays a sport, or he'd have some serious health issues because of these things.

"You're so thoughtful," he says, and he means it, pulling her in by the back of the neck to kiss her forehead. "I love you."

"They're chips not a kidney," Andrew deadpans from the window, still not looking at any of them. Matt snorts, but Aaron for a blissful moment that his brother isn't there.

"I think it's adorable," Renee throws into the silence, and Aaron is thankful.

He shoots her a nod as he loops his arm around Katelyn's waist, pulling her close. His next words are directed at one person and one person only. "I like that Katelyn knows me so well," he jabs, and feels Andrew pause mid-drag.

But that's the most he gets; he counts it as a win. As far as reactions go, this is a gold mine from Andrew. His twin fixes him with a bored stare. "Ah to be known..."

Aaron huffs, a self-satisfied grin stuck in place.

"I'm getting the hell out of here, I can't take it anymore," Matt urges as he jumps to his feet. Dan is quick to follow, the two hand and hand.

Aaron can't help but roll his eyes. "You just want the dorm to yourself for an extra fifteen minutes."

Matt waggles his eyebrows. "You got me there. Ready to run for it?"

Renee and Allison follow them dutifully, knowing he won't wait more than a few seconds for them to actually agree. With a scowl to freeze hell, Allison drapes her team jacket over her perfectly styled hair.

Honestly, why even make the effort.

The thunder booms again as they rush out the door, their silhouettes disappearing in the heavy rain. He's glad Andrew lets Katelyn in his car now, or else they'd be walking back to the dorms.

This is better too, because Katelyn has to sit in his lap. He's really glad she came.

Neil, as usual, walks in last, always holding them up despite his speedy reputation. His hair sticks to his forehead as he strolls out into the lounge, damp from a shower and muscles relaxed. "Where is everyone?"

Andrew takes too long to respond, if he was going to attempt it at all. His eyes scan Neil up and down before the interest is seemingly gone.

"Getting wet probably," Aaron remarks, trying not to be grossed out about what that look might mean for the two of them later. He's staying at Katelyn's.

"And not in the fun way," Katelyn jokes before her cheeks light up red, too relaxed in Aaron's presence. Adorable. "Oopsie."

Neil turns to her, blue eyes marred with confusion. "I don't get it."

Of course you don't.

It's not even the fact it's a sex joke, because Neil can pick up on their innuendos more often than not. The result of years on the run simply means a lot of slang goes over Neil's head.

Aaron scoffs.

Nicky sighs, unsurprised but just as disappointed. "Hey Neil, are you sure you and Andrew have sex?"

"Nicky." Andrew's voice is toneless, but cutting, and Katelyn backs herself and Aaron away in preparation for a potential strike. Her survival instincts have improved after time around the Foxes.

Nicky throws his hands up in surrender. At one point he might've been scared, nervous at Andrew's warning. Aaron knows things have been getting better between the two of them too though, and Nicky seems exasperated at most. "Alright, alright! Just saying."

Andrew's glare is gone in a blink, and he regards Neil's lost expression as he stubs out his cigarette. "I'll explain later."

Good enough for Neil, apparently. The striker walks over to Andrew as casually as possible while the rest of them collect their bags, but the energy in his step is there. Aaron might even call it giddiness.

Andrew raises a brow as Neil stops in front of him, amusement swimming beneath the surface. It's gone as soon as Neil shrugs off his jacket and pushes it into Andrew's arms. Andrew doesn't move to take it, letting it fall to the floor. Neil snorts, no doubt expecting it. "C'mon, I know you're cold."

His smirk is teasing as he stares at Andrew's exposed shoulders a little too long. Katelyn leans in to whisper in Aaron's ear. "Guess your brother has as little cold tolerance as you do."

"Whatever," he mutters, much to her amusement.

It's freezing okay? At least he's not wearing a muscle t-shirt like Andrew. Idiot.

Andrew and Neil have a stare down for another five seconds before Andrew scoops up the jacket in the most petulant display Aaron has ever seen.

"You know nothing," Andrew says, shoving his arms through the sleeves as he ignores Neil's bright grin. Before he can turn away towards the door, Neil's voice stops him again, yanking him back.

"Oh by the way," Neil says with the wave of a hand. He fishes into his bag to pull out a king size Milky Way, only slightly crushed from whatever crap he keeps in there.

He hands it to Andrew as if it's a roll of money, as payment for a deal. Maybe he knows candy is just that important to Andrew.

Andrew stares at it, no doubt having the same crisis Aaron is currently having.

It doesn't matter, doesn't mean anything. Lots of boyfriends and girlfriends buy each other things...it's normal.

He glances quickly between Neil and Katelyn.

They're not alike. They're not.

"I got it for you, you ate your last one right?" Neil asks, shrugging with the ghost of a smile. "I know you like the dark chocolate better but they were out."

"I didn't ask," Andrew states, still staring at the candy bar in his hand.

Neil smirks, walking past him and out into the rain without a care. He is mindful not to brush their shoulders though. "You didn't need to."

Andrew's grunt is left up to interpretation, and Aaron doesn't care to figure out what it means.

Katelyn happily runs after Neil, eager to get to the car. Andrew's shoulders relax as he pulls out his keys, stuffing the candy in the jacket pocket for later.

As much as Bee's words ring in Aaron's head, annoying and worrisome, Aaron can't help but take advantage.

Andrew deserves it.

He stops right as he's about to pass Andrew, watching Neil and Katelyn jump in a puddle on accident. As if sensing Aaron's shit-eating grin, Andrew turns, and the words breeze out of Aaron's mouth. "Ah, to be known--"

"Fuck you."

Aaron makes a list in his head, because he can't resist it. It only grows as he notices more things, which doesn't help his stress.

Neil and Katelyn. Katelyn and Neil.

They're both dense when it comes to flirting.

They're both thoughtful when it concerns the twins (but Neil is still an asshole in every other arena of life okay, that's not up for debate.)

They're both competitive.

Lightweights.

Focused.

Straightforward.

That doesn't begin to cover the physical things Aaron had noticed earlier, but he forces himself to stop there. He doesn't know how much more he can take. Is it really possible? Could his beautiful, thoughtful girlfriend be anything like that arrogant exy addict?

Aaron scratches his head furiously as he trudges up the stairs to his dorm; he doesn't have time to be worrying about this. He skipped his last class for extra review time, so he better take advantage of the team's absence. Even sharing a room with Matt doesn't guarantee him peace and quiet. The Foxes all end up congregating one way or another, but Aaron knows they've all got full schedules at this time.

It's perfect, but his hope dies when he rounds the hall and hears voices coming from an open door. It's Andrew's dorm.

That's odd, he thinks. It's not like Andrew or Neil to be home at this time, and Kevin and Nicky wouldn't be far behind them.

Aaron slows as he passes, and a flash of blond is all he sees for a moment. Aaron's feet stick to the floor as he jolts back.

Andrew sits on the couch in the dorm, staring at nothing. It wouldn't be so uncommon any other day, but something in his eyes makes Aaron's blood run cold.

Or maybe it's the absence of something, the absence of anything.

If he didn't know better, he'd think Andrew a corpse. But the tense set to his jaw and shoulders say otherwise. He's never seen someone seem wound so tight but so defeated all at once.

He's definitely not used to seeing it from his brother.

There's a pale, haunted quality to his face, like he's not really there, like he's somewhere else far, far away from all of this. Knowing where Andrew has been, what he's seen...

Aaron doesn't want to think about what Andrew's going through in that moment, but he has a few ideas. The echoes of a drugged cackle poison Aaron's thoughts and he bites the inside of his cheek hard.

Andrew's bad days...he hardly lets anyone see them, and Aaron's next thought is so selfish it twists him up inside.

For a second, he's glad Andrew hides this...these days of his where nothing's okay. Aaron wouldn't know the first thing about dealing with them, and offering any real help would be nothing more than an unattainable hope.

It chokes him; he hates himself for standing there, for seeing, for staring like Andrew is some caged animal waiting to strike. He knows he has to leave, he knows, but he doesn't know how to move.

He's not the one who makes the decision for him; like a ghost, Neil crosses the front of the doorway, obscuring Aaron's view of the whole scene. His scarred hand flies to the door, as if meaning to slam it shut, to keep Andrew protected, when Neil recognizes him.

However, there's a split second where he does not, and Aaron is treated to another rare sight. For a moment, that stupid session with Bee pops back into his mind. The part of his brain which isn't frozen by Neil's stare laughs at him; ah, finally, a difference.

Because see, there's no doubt about it. Katelyn and Neil are fiercely protective, and Aaron knows Katelyn would be there for him in his lowest moments. She's proved it; she was there after Drake's attack, after the first few brutal therapy sessions. Always listening, caring.

But here is where Aaron sees a critical gap between her and Neil, and he's reminded none too kindly that Neil was born in a world of blood and flesh.

Katelyn's humble suburbia was always out of his reach.

The look which crosses the striker's face is downright murderous, pure contempt dripping off his threatening grin. The guard dog is out in full force, but it's so much more than that. This smile...it's so sharp edged and without remorse, it can only come from years of training to be a force of pain and suffering.

The Butcher's Boy, one article had called him.

It's the kind of smile which makes a promise. It says no matter how cutting it may look, it's nothing compared to what the wearer's hands can do.

Had Aaron been anyone else, a stranger, a genuine threat...

He wonders what Neil would've done.

But then the look is gone, falling from Neil's expression as he realizes it's Aaron. The cool, assessing stare is back, and some of the tension fades. He still keeps the door partly closed, his body blocking Andrew from Aaron's vision.

Aaron just stares.

He and Neil get along better now, for sure, but there's always going to be suspicion between them both. Part of Aaron will always have the fear of Neil hurting Andrew, and Neil will always have the fear of Aaron doing the same.

After all, Aaron has misunderstood his brother before, hasn't he?

Vile words screamed in therapy replay in his head, and he swallows down the guilt.

He guesses for once, he can't blame Neil.

"Problem?" Neil eventually whispers, fixing Aaron with a look which dares him to say anything about Andrew.

The reflexive glare and biting retort fade before they can even manifest. Aaron looks down at his shoes, trying to find words to show Neil he gets it, that he understands.

He's not at that point yet though, and he knows it.

But one day, he hopes to be.

"No," he settles on instead."I don't think there is."

He wonders what it means when Neil's body relaxes, and Aaron's chest fills with warmth.

The next incident doesn't happen for a few days, lulling them both into a fall sense of security. Andrew is back to normal, if not walking a little faster in Neil's direction.

Aaron is too relieved to comment on it.

He sometimes wonders why the universe is out to get him specifically, but he reminds himself that he's somehow managed his way out of every bad situation one way or another.

He figures it's best not to question it, but the anguish is still real.

He's walking with Andrew to the track where cheer practice is held, since Neil and Katelyn told them to meet up there before meeting Nicky for dinner.

It's mandatory on Thursdays now, no matter how many times they try to skip. Nicky finds them.

Bringing Katelyn into things had been a dirty trick, and Aaron mostly blames Neil for proving to everyone it works. Now, Nicky isn't above using his girlfriend against him. On the flipside, Neil has no reason to refuse Nicky's invitation. And like that, Andrew's presence is ensured, at least for an hour.

Aaron wishes he was clever enough to sneak away undetected like his twin.

As he's about to voice his complaints, they reach the top of the hill overlooking the field, and Andrew halts right in front of him.

It's so abrupt, Aaron barely dodges walking right into his brother. It's a good thing too; Andrew (much to Aaron's jealousy) is built like a brick wall. Even without the threat of a bruised nose, touching Andrew from behind is never a good idea for anyone's health.

Aaron yelps, glaring at his twin as he stumbles to the side. "Andrew, what the fuck?"

Andrew doesn't respond, his stare fixed straight ahead and twitching more and more by the second.

Aaron turns his head, trying to see the source of the problem when the wind is knocked out of him. He spins back towards his brother not even a second later, eyes frantic.

"No," he pleads, he's not sure to who. His whisper is the definition of panic. "Andrew no--"

"Shut up," Andrew bites out, setting his jaw. "It doesn't mean anything."

How can you say that? "Seriously?!"

He points a finger towards the field, as if that explains everything. He knows it does.

Down on the green he watches Katelyn and Neil take turns with various cheerleading moves. The cartwheels and tumbling come easy to both of them, their bodies lithe and flexible, and fucking Josten just has to be a fast learner. The striker watches Katelyn intently as she demonstrates a handstand before falling back to a standing position. Neil manages to copy it perfectly, and Katelyn claps in elation next to him.

There's no way Aaron is awake. The worst thing is, Neil looks pretty comfortable, like they've done this before. How had he and Andrew missed all this?

Aaron almost falls to his knees in defeat, and momentarily thinks of paying up to Bee even though there's no actual bet in place. "Hey, if Josten becomes a cheerleader I'm going to break all of Dobson's figurines and then blind myself with the shards."

It gets Andrew's attention at the very least. He looks back over at Aaron, unimpressed. "Don't be so dramatic."

Yeah, I'm not the one who stopped in my tracks...

A beat of silence passes between them as they watch Neil and Katelyn bounce around, carefree and energetic. Something soft lodges itself inside Aaron's chest despite his annoyance, and he notices Andrew's shoulders release some of the pent up tension.

Aaron tries to guess what Andrew is thinking, nothing unusual there. It's an interesting speculation though. Even as just Neil's teammate, Aaron wonders what it means to Andrew to see someone with Neil's history look so content.

It's probably not something their kind is usually afforded; freedom, leisure, contentedness.

With the shared vulnerability sitting in the air between them, Aaron finds room for a step forward. Sighing, he stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. If Andrew is ready to talk about it, so is he. "Do you think...maybe Dobson had a poin--"

"No."

Aaron rolls his eyes. Ok, fine. He guesses it's not time yet after all.

They stand there until Neil and Katelyn finish, taking a water break and checking their phones. The moment passes by heavily, the beginnings of understanding stirring between them whether Andrew likes it or not.

Of course, Andrew can ruin any moment.

Neil starts his cool down stretches, and Andrew's eyes flit up his strong legs, lingering a bit too long.

Aaron sputters, face flushing in realization. "Are...are you seriously checking him out right now? With me right here?!"

Andrew rolls his eyes, finally stalking off towards the field. "Don't worry, I won't pop a boner like you did freshman year."

Something in Aaron dies, remembering all too vividly the first time he saw Katelyn practice. He shoves down the embarrassment, but the agony stays. "That was one time!"

They somehow end up at the same lunch table in the courtyard one afternoon. Aaron knows he keeps labeling these instances as rare and unplanned, but they're starting to become too frequent for him to ignore.

And it's surreal, not being so uptight around his brother, waiting for a fight to break out between them. It's more than he'd ever thought they'd have.

It's nice.

Or it would be, if vermin didn't exist.

Katelyn and Neil are exchanging exercise tips across the table, Katelyn flipping through her phone to show Neil some good stretches for certain cheer moves. Aaron isn't quite sure how they'll be useful in an exy game, but he's not going to stop Neil from burning off any of his annoyingly high energy. Beside Aaron, Andrew reads his newest novel, eyes appraising Neil every now and again.

It's then two guys from the football team walk by, regarding them both with a clear intent. Aaron's hackles are immediately raised; he's never seen these two before, but it's obvious Neil and Katelyn have from how quickly their smiles leave their faces.

Ah, classmates then.

"Trying to be a cheerleader now Josten?" The one whose jacket reads McGuire taunts. "Knew you had no shame."

Katelyn bristles immediately, never one for random hostility. How she gets along with the Foxes at all is a miracle. "Hey--"

Neil stops her protests with a hand to her wrist, and his unimpressed stare is only one indication of his connection to Andrew.

Of course, Neil's back-talking abilities are all his own.

"Is that really the best you can do?" He sighs, inconvenienced by this whole thing. The shift is amazing, his lazy grin and determined stare gone in favor of tiredness. This is obviously not the first time he's dealt with these douchebags, and Aaron is astounded Neil didn't put them in their place already.

Perhaps Wymack's anger management lectures are sticking a little.

"I'm sure you've seen the news articles," Neil continues when the two aren't quick enough to respond, the edges of his blade-like smile slipping now and again. "You think that's what's going to get to me, some jabs about cheerleading? I'm shaking."

Aaron will give it to him, he sure knows how to make someone feel lower than dirt. Neil doesn't bother to make eye contact at all, almost talking through the two lumbering jocks. They would beat Neil into the dirt easily based on size and upper body muscle alone, but no one ever gets away unscathed when Neil is involved.

Douche #2 bristles, face flushing red. "Listen you--"

"Are we done here?" Neil bites out, and Katelyn is smirking at his side. "More of my brain cells die the longer you're in my way.

Katelyn winces, performative. "Is that why I have a headache? It's contagious."

Hearing Katelyn say something not nice is enough to have Aaron's brain stalling, rendering him useless.

McGuire's anger is all for Neil as he growls. "You're going to regret that mouth of yours."

Ha-ha.

In the corner of his eye, Aaron sees Andrew's hand curl around his armbands, right where a knife should be. Threats to Neil aren't things he takes well, but they have an agreement.

Neil can fight his own battles, until he can't.

"All things I've heard before," the striker waves them off dismissively, but there's a new wave of heat in his eyes. "I don't give a fuck what you say about me, it's nothing I haven't heard, and just like you, it'll be forgotten in the blink of an eye."

It's the biggest of insults to people so full of themselves, and McGuire means to lunge when his friend clamps down on his shoulders.

Aaron thinks it's a rare demonstration of defeat, but he should know better.

"C'mon don't punish them too much man," Douche #2 says, fake pity swelling his words. At this point, Katelyn and Neil are back staring at their phones, Neil's awareness only given away by the hand poised to block a hit at a moment's notice. They're the picture of 'I don't care what you say about us,' until they're no longer the targets. "Their lives are hard enough, they're already dating the Minyards."

Neil's posture does a 180 in an instant, the same time Katelyn's untroubled expression wrinkles up in anger. Neil's full attention is on the two now, and they shrink back an inch. Neil's voice is a snarl. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Katelyn isn't far behind, fists clenched on the table. "Yeah, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Now, Aaron knows at this point he should step in. It's not Katelyn's or Neil's fight anymore. It's his name, Andrew's name, being thrown around in the dirt. He can handle himself, can give as much as he gets and then some. But the fury on Katelyn's face has him sitting like a stone in his seat, throat dried up like the brush Neil's glare could set fire to.

Beside him, his twin assesses the scene in his own way, with an expression Aaron cannot read. Goddammit Andrew.

McGuire laughs, like the answer is obvious. He must not have any real experience with Andrew or the rumors about him, because most people wouldn't dare provoke the sleeping lion in Andrew's chest. That, or they're both actually that stupid. "How can you stand these midgets? Do they make you feel good about yourselves because of their shitshow lives? Must've been hard to find someone more messed up than you, Josten."

"Dunno why you'd waste your time with a criminal Katelyn," Douche #2 throws in. "You guys have a thing for that?"

Something in Katelyn snaps, and she shoots up from her seat quickly enough to make Aaron flinch. Andrew regards her for once.

"Aaron is twice the man you'll ever be," she huffs, laughing in disbelief. "You're just jealous he's top of the class and on the Exy team, and Andrew is already being scouted by the pros! Neil--"

And of course, Neil doesn't like to hear anyone sing his praises. He cuts Katelyn's temper off with his own, hand still around her wrist. In the back of his mind, Aaron thinks to ask Katelyn how much she keeps up with Andrew's life, how she sees it as important despite how cruel he was to her, how uncompromising.

The feeling in Aaron's lungs is suffocating.

"They actually have futures, so keep their names out of your idiot mouths," Neil warns, the promise of pain hard to ignore. Andrew's eyes never leave Neil's face. "If Andrew doesn't kill you, I will. He's got nothing to prove, neither does Aaron. You're both pathetic compared to them, so shut up with your cheap blows."

"Totally! Leave our boyfriends alone!" Katelyn crosses her arms, her high ponytail swishing from the abruptness of it. She's huffing, not nearly as composed as Neil, but just as upset. Protective.

Neil laughs beside her, dry and over this conversation. He drags Katelyn back down easily, but never touching her more than he has to. "Don't be too mean to them Katelyn, they're obviously trying to overcompensate for something."

Both jocks flinch, but any kind of response dies on their lips.

"How sad," Katelyn throws in airily, bringing out the full extent of her sorority girl cattiness.

McGuire, red in the face from humiliation, tries to salvage what he can. "Why you--"

"Bye," Neil and Katelyn say at the same time, waving them off in clear dismissal. Their eyes are back to staring at their phones, point made. It's...impressive, but Aaron will never admit it.

He's glad he never got on Katelyn's bad side.

Kicked to the curb, the two idiots slink off with tails between their legs. It's as if someone presses play again on the scene, because the sounds of the courtyard and the muffled conversations of nearby tables fill Aaron's ears again.

He notices Andrew, tense, sit back on the bench. Aaron hadn't seen him move to get up, but he guesses Andrew is torn between chasing after those guys to threaten them on his own and simply staring at Neil like he's some kind of alien. Maybe he is. Andrew's expression is comical, like he's not sure whether to be angry with Neil about trying to protect him when he doesn't need it, or pull him into a kiss.

Aaron would rather not think about the last one, or the innocent spin he's putting on it. If his brother feels anything like he does, there's a lot more than kissing on his mind right now.

Neil looks over at Andrew, a secret passing between them as Neil smiles in another way, softer than Aaron is comfortable with.

He tears his gaze away.

"Anyways, I was thinking we could all go see that new movie this weekend," Katelyn's cheery voice returns, as if nothing happened. She's shoving her phone too close to Neil's face, almost making him cross-eyed.

Neil's confusion, for whatever reason, makes Aaron want to slap him. Maybe because a minute ago he looked ready to gut someone. "I can't, I never saw the first one. Allison told me it's a sequel."

Katelyn gasps, her hand slapping the table. "Oh my god Neil! You have to watch it," she insists, turning on Aaron so fast he yelps. "Aaron, tell him he has to watch it."

Aaron blinks, once at his girlfriend, then once at Neil. "Uh, you have to watch it?"

Neil squints at him, tilting his head at Katelyn even as the words are completely directed at him. "Why do I care what Aaron thinks?"

"Fuck off Josten."

Katelyn only giggles. She's never believed Aaron and Neil disliked each other, and over time, he's starting to think she's right.

Neil is still the worst though. He forces himself to believe it, but he can't ever forget the way Neil just defended him without question. Rude.

"I'll send you the link so you can watch it online, you'll love it I promise. Andrew can watch with you!"

Katelyn knows Neil too well for only knowing him a short time. Neil's face lights up at the suggestion, a silent question directed at Andrew in the next second.

Andrew just sighs, nodding once.

It must fucking make Josten's day, that's how relaxed he looks.

Damn you.

Katelyn giggles, checking her screen for the time. Her smile is replaced by panic. Instinctually, her hand flies out to grab Neil, her manicured hands digging into his jacket. "Oh shoot, we're gonna be late for class!"

She bumps her knee as she stands, shoving her books hastily (along with a half eaten donut) into her backpack. Neil is less in a hurry, but he doesn't seem to mind being dragged by the arm towards the math building. Nerd.

"Bye sweetie," Katelyn throws over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss. There's a blush on her face, no doubt because of the incident from before, and Aaron's answering grin says they're not done talking about it.

He plans to show his appreciation, thoroughly.

"Yeah uh...bye...I love you! A lot." Yes, very cool. He clears his throat, but if anything, his lack of smoothness makes Katelyn beam brighter.

"I love you too!"

"I'll be home soon," Neil says, more subdued but no less of a promise. For a blink, it's like only he and Andrew exist in the world.

"I don't care," Andrew states, but he never breaks eye contact, and even Aaron doesn't believe him. For so long, his brother cared about next to nothing. The difference is impossible not to notice.

Neil must feel the same way.

"Sure you don't," he grins, smug and hinting at things which make Aaron want to puke. Amusement crosses Andrew's face before it's gone, and Aaron rolls his eyes. "See you later."

And like that, they're gone.

The quiet between them is charged, but not volatile like they're used to. There's defeat laced in it, an elephant sitting in the room. It never left probably, not since that session with Dobson.

In his head, Aaron adds another thing to the list: quick tempers.

"Andrew..." He tries again, knowing he doesn't have to explain any more than that as they stare at the spots Katelyn and Neil sat.

The refusal doesn't come as quick this time, he notes with a chill. Ah, they're getting close then.

"No," Andrew sighs finally, but it sounds so much more like resignation this time around.

Andrew and Neil are sitting at the top row of the empty stadium when Neil can't hold back his curiosity anymore.

Andrew senses it immediately, and dammit, he thought he had at least a few more days of peace.

Neil turns to Andrew lazily, but his gaze is anything but. Andrew knows the look, would know it in death. It spells trouble and a million other things he can't stand but which make his insides flip anyways. "Are you ever going to tell me what has you and Aaron acting all weird lately?"

Andrew releases a breath, craving a cigarette. He regards Neil lazily, but he's not looking for anything specific on his junkie's face. Andrew knew Neil had noticed something was on his mind the day after that fateful session with Bee, but he's been giving Andrew time.

Always considerate, always waiting for Andrew to be comfortable enough to broach the subject.

Andrew hates him, hates how much he doesn't.

Neil waits patiently for Andrew to collect his thoughts, not even fidgeting from where their shoulders are pressed together. It's cold out, Andrew wishes they were in bed. Kevin owes him for letting Thea visit.

But, seeing Neil in Andrew's jacket isn't the worst thing he's ever seen.

Andrew taps his fingers against Neil's open palm, but there's no need to find an excuse. He doesn't lie to Neil. "Bee said you and Katelyn were alike during our last session."

He strips the issue down to the bare bones, knowing Neil can read between the lines. Andrew will never admit to being upset by something so dumb, so he lets Neil bring it up for him. It's the same way Andrew won't let Neil get away with acting okay when he's definitely not.

Neil tilts his head, mulling over the words.

"Hm," he hums eventually, and much to Andrew's annoyance, Neil looks contemplative rather than shocked. "That bothers you."

And there it is.

Andrew runs a hand through his hair, his only tell that he's frustrated.

Bothers him?

Nothing is supposed to bother him, but he remembers feeling Bee's words like a bucket of ice water just like Aaron had.

He hates it, because he can't stop thinking about it.

Neil's hand closes around his, a grounding force. Andrew pulls away; he needs to see Neil's face, but he keeps their hands together so Neil knows he didn't overstep. Neil looks so pleased Andrew wants to shove him off his seat.

"It's untrue," he settles on instead, bypassing any kind of confession. Again, it's the simplest, non bullshit answer.

Amusement fills Neil's entire being, but he's not so dumb at least, because he keeps his laugh down.

Neil bites down on his bottom lip, the one Andrew nipped raw this morning in between kisses. "Is it? I think Katelyn and I accomplish the same thing, maybe that's what Bee meant."

Bee said the same thing. For someone who hates therapists so much, Neil sure can sound like them sometimes.

Andrew raises a brow, urging Neil to elaborate. It's payback, in a way. Neil's huff is a small salve for Andrew's annoyance.

Neil has never been gifted with words outside of lies and insults; these moments, where he tries to explain his innermost thoughts and feelings are as entertaining as they are brutal. Andrew often cannot handle them, but like a fool, he never wants to stop listening. The fact Neil's eloquence disappears at times like this is the only thing which helps Andrew keep it together.

Neil squirms in his seat, staring at their hands. "Well, Aaron likes Katelyn because she makes him feel normal, you know?"

Andrew makes no such indication that he knows.

Neil powers on admirably. "And...you like me because..."

Neil pauses, waiting for Andrew to the deny the statement, to counter it with the usual 'I hate you' so Neil can move on.

But Andrew doesn't have the energy for that, hasn't for a while. Neil's eyes widen when he realizes Andrew isn't going to refute anything, and seeing him so slack-jawed puts Andrew's mind in a whirl.

Oh, what is he going to do about this? Is there anything he can do, at this point? Over a year with Neil, and part of him knew he was done for weeks before Baltimore. Perhaps even months.

"I like you because?" Andrew sighs, the words foreign and sickly. This feeling...is uncomfortable, but not in the way a stranger's hands on him would be. It's the kind of squeamishness that comes from experiencing pleasure, experiencing warmth, when before he'd had no exposure to it.

It's new, but he knows Bee would want him to embrace it when he can. Today is not a bad day, so he does. And like everything, the more he says it, the less upsetting it'll be. The less undeserving he'll feel.

Smiling, and not bothering to try and hide it, Neil continues. "You and Aaron have been through a lot. Aaron doesn't like to think about it, he likes to know he's okay and that he can still enjoy a life other people would. Girls, parties, school."

Oh yes, he knows. He used to resent his brother for all of it, each step away from him in direct violation of their deal. Now, he knows Neil is right.

"Katelyn is his reassurance, his reminder of all that."

Aaron's perfect, sheltered cheerleader. Yet, she'd somehow managed to understand his twin despite all the ugliness. Her face stopped being offensive a while ago.

Neil, as if sensing Andrew's train of thought, smirks briefly. Shut it.

But Andrew doesn't mean it.

"But what you...prefer is understanding," Neil says, noticeably preventing himself from saying 'want' instead. Andrew says he does not want, though Neil has never believed him. "You and I don't shy away from the ugly parts of life because we can't..."

'It's all over us.' It goes unsaid. Neil's gaze settles on Andrew's armbands, seeing the scars underneath from memory alone. In the same vein, Andrew reaches up to dig his thumb into Neil's shoulder, exactly where he remembers an old bullet wound to be. Neil's breath catches, a pleased shiver rocking through him.

Andrew really hates Kevin now.

"Reassurance versus understanding. Those are the things you and Aaron value, so...I dunno. It makes sense to me," Neil whispers, shrugging. He does that, when he's not sure of himself, if he's not sure Andrew will accept the answer.

Neil is a fool, and he'll surely be the death of Andrew. He should've thrown him out onto the streets day one, but given the chance now he knows he won't.

He digs his finger harder into the bullet hole, kneading the flesh there as his eyes trace the rest of Neil's body, seeing the slashes littered all over it.

Anger rises in his throat unwarranted, and his grip on Neil's shoulder tightens without forgiveness. Neil doesn't flinch away, like he knows Andrew would never hurt him, and it makes Andrew hate this even more.

Because people have hurt Neil.

Yet he can still look at Andrew like that, he can still do stupid cartwheels and annoy Kevin and shop with Allison on the weekends.

He overcame everything to become Neil Josten, and who else could possibly know a thing about that?

"It does not mean you're the same," he growls out, hand untangling from Neil's to hold his face in his hands. Andrew's thumb slides over the ruined skin under Neil's eyes, where his nerves no longer work. "She does not have these, she'll never..."

She'll never know. She's not like you, no one is like you.

No one else could do this to Andrew, and it's so dangerous, such a weakness.

Andrew trembles from the force it takes to not push Neil away from him.

Neil knows better than to touch back, not when Andrew is giving so much, and Andrew glares at him for that. He's always giving Neil too much, and he doesn't know how to stop, doesn't even think about stopping.

Slowly, Neil reaches forward to grab the sleeve of Andrew's coat, tugging once. "I know that, Andrew I know."

Andrew's trembles subside from Neil's voice alone, and cautiously, Neil skims his fingers along the fabric of Andrew's forearms. His scars. Andrew's grip relaxes.

It's a touch he's familiar with now, it's Neil proving the understanding is real.

Andrew sags into his seat when Neil speaks again, boring into pools of icy blue. Neil never backs down from the intensity of Andrew's stare. "But we both care about you two in the same ways," Neil says, not letting Andrew interrupt despite the flinch of his shoulder. "We know what you like and what you hate and are good at knowing when you're not...okay. If anyone badmouthes you, we're quick to go for the throat. I'm fine, ugh, more than fine having those things in common with Katelyn. You know how I'm different, that's all I need."

'No one else should be able to see me like that.'

It's shockingly vulnerable coming from Neil, not something he affords to anyone outside his family of Foxes.

It voids Andrew's argument. He's still not necessarily on board with the assumption, the comparison of Neil and Katelyn, but he trusts Neil.

He thinks of Aaron then, and wonders if he's reached the same conclusion. Andrew sighs, knowing Bee will have an absolute fucking field day with this. The anger simmers and dies right then, and he resigns himself to the consequences. There's no room for regret.

Maybe it's not the worst thing for him and Aaron to share, having two hot-headed cart-wheelers caring about them.

Andrew grimaces, but pulls Neil flush against him anyways. It might as well be a white flag.

The air is cold, but Andrew can't feel the chill. Neil hums, pleased with the show of affection, and Andrew doesn't have the energy to warn him for it.

Instead, he lets Neil press against him, the weight natural and not threatening. Idly, Neil traces the lines on Andrew's palms, delighted when the touch tickles enough for Andrew to twitch.

It's peaceful in a way Andrew has never known, but is becoming increasingly commonplace now that he acknowledges their 'this.'

Maybe it has something to do with Aaron too, but that's neither here nor there.

Neil raises his head, the question barely out of his mouth before Andrew slots their lips together.

There's no urgency or harshness like there used to be, but Andrew stopped being concerned about that too. He doesn't like to think about how fast he got used to this.

Of course, Neil can never leave well enough alone, that or he just likes to annoy Andrew. It's probably both. When they break apart, Neil's grin is smug. "Although, as far as physical similarities go, you're shit out of luck there."

"Neil."

"What?" Neil asks innocently, ignoring the warning in Andrew's tone. "Is it really so bad to think you and Aaron might have a thing for redheads?"

"I'll push you down these stairs."

"You like me too much," Neil points out, and Andrew can't refute it when he admitted it only minutes before.

Fucking junkie.

"Stop assuming."

"It's the truth," Neil taunts, grin still in place. "Isn't it?"

And oh, fuck Neil Josten to hell and back.

Andrew really, really hates Kevin.

"Yes," he grits out, resisting the urge to punch that look off Neil's face. Instead, he goes for a different approach. His eyes trail up Neil's body from head to toe. The baggy jacket isn't doing Neil many favors, but his legs are still clad in those yoga pants Andrew can't stand, clinging to his muscular legs and narrow hips. Andrew pauses over Neil's collarbones, then the lines of his neck. There's a few bruises there still, courtesy of Andrew.

As if sensing the shift in the air, Neil swallows, and Andrew watches the bob of his throat with interest. "What?"

Andrew shrugs as lazily as he can. "I'm not so sure. She does not have these," he begins to list, grabbing the piercings lining Neil's left ear. Sensitive skin; Andrew hadn't protested when Neil had come home with the new jewelry, Matt's idea. Neil's breathing stutters. "Or this..."

Andrew's hand grazes over his adam's apple, pressing down teasingly.

It's so easy to get Neil worked up, Andrew thinks, a product of the striker's unlimited supply of energy. Andrew never has a problem helping Neil burn it off. Neil is so transfixed, eyes glazing over and breath coming out in harsh pants. He doesn't even notice Andrew's hand ghosting farther down, hovering right over his groin.

Andrew gets so close to touching, his fingers tickling the fabric of Neil's pants. But he doesn't, because he didn't ask. It doesn't dull the effect of his raspy voice on Neil. "Or this--"

Neil's face flushes as expected, red tinting his cheeks as he laughs and grabs Andrew's hand. "Andrew!"

Neil looks around, as if expecting someone to pop out of nowhere to witness their shamelessness, but the stadium is as empty as it was before.

The corners of Andrew's mouth twitch upwards, imperceptible to anyone who isn't Neil. His breath is coming out a little labored now too, especially with Neil stealing glances at him and putting no effort into being subtle. There's only one thing to say. "I hate Kevin."

Neil snorts, agreeing. "How many times have you thought that in the last hour?"

"Shut up."

"Why don't you make me?"

And Andrew does, because there's no way he can refuse.

When he and Aaron go to their next session with Bee, they exchange a knowing glance. They're not dumb, they already know the subject is going to come up.

Aaron shifts in his seat uncomfortably when Bee sits in front of them, not quite sure how this'll play out. Of course, he's come to terms with Bee's statement from last time. Neil and Katelyn have a lot in common, and maybe it says something about the twins.

Sort of.

Whatever, he already drank plenty over it, and spent hours pushing the thoughts away while pinning Katelyn to her mattress.

It's fine, he's all good. He's accepted it.

That doesn't mean Andrew has, and Aaron eyes his twin nervously. Again, his brother takes a spoon to swirl his cocoa, letting it hit the rim each time. Bastard.

Bee is either oblivious to the tension in the room, or prepared for it. Aaron supposes she'd have to be.

She smiles at them, sweet as ever, and clicks her pen as the hour begins. "Well now, I guess I won't beat around the bush. Have either of you given a thought as to what we discussed last time?"

It's a ticking time bomb in Aaron's mind. The question is for them both, but he feels the spotlight settle on Andrew; the ball is in his court. He can either admit or deny, can condemn the whole session to hell with just a few words.

Andrew stops stirring his drink long enough to look between Aaron and Bee with disinterest. Aaron holds his breath while Andrew takes a sip of his mug, and then his twin just shrugs. "We might have a thing for redheads."

Aaron's jaw drops, and Bee's smile is overjoyed. Andrew looks like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world, but preferably with Neil.

Aaron is still staring at him stupidly when Bee clears her throat, her smile creasing her skin. "I'm very glad to hear you say that Andrew, thank you. Now, how about we discuss..."

Her words don't reach Aaron's ears quite yet. Andrew turns to him, a silent question, but Aaron only shakes his head, smiling in disbelief.

It's as much as they're going to get from him, they know, but it doesn't make it any less of a confession. It's Andrew acknowledging Bee's theory, accepting parts of it. Accepting Aaron again, as having more in common with him than a lifetime of strife.

Aaron settles back into the couch, limbs loose and chest light, and tries not to smile as much as he wants to.

Later, Katelyn tells Aaron to invite Andrew and Neil over to her dorm to watch that movie she mentioned.

He does, and it no longer feels like a shock when Andrew says yes.

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #aaron minyard

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randaccidents · 4 years

Text

The World Turned

Happy New Year guys! As my first act of 2020, I’m posting the first spau fic of 2020 as well!

EDIT: TW: manipulation (the kind that sinks its hooks into you for a long time), intrusive thoughts

Shadow People AU by @mine-sara-sp who is a beautiful woman and basically the mom of the discord server :D. Happy New Year my gal.

The world changes, but not everyone is prepared for it.

In other spoilers: presidential alert the girls are fighting

Its surroundings were dark, tiny triangles of yellow light doing nothing to illuminate the area. It was almost as if the darkness itself had eaten the light, the triangles all that was left of the world. In the distance, it could see tall figures made of yellow light wandering aimlessly, yet dwarfed by the dark that reached its fingers upwards. Its feet were standing on something solid. There was a weight on its chest, and it looked down.

Something on its chest glowed purple, and a voice in its head told it that’s important, hold onto it tight, but don’t let anyone here see it. Placing a hand over the object, it started wandering, feet finding their own path.

As it walked, it noticed that the dark seemed to be seething, writhing and clawing its way upwards. But slowly, the darkness was calming, shifting to drip downwards endlessly. The path before became illuminated by the twirling triangles, granting him surer footing. It wandered across bridges, past monolithic structures, past rock-like formations, past words scratched into stone, and registered none of them. All it knew was the path before its feet, the purple glowing object in its hands, the feeling that it should be somewhere else.

Something tugged at its chest, a call that demanded its attention. It turned the suggestion over in its mind. A flash of memory, of blue skies green grass gigantic structures people he serves and cares for, and the decision is made before it even blinks. Grasping the glowing purple item close, it answers the call.

It approaches the origin of the call, reaching out. Unknown to it, the purple item flashes brightly right as it heeds the call. Memories suddenly entered its mind, slicing their way past the muggy fog in its mind it hadn’t noticed, led by purple light.

The walls had fallen to the Leviathan before them. The Empire crumbled around them. Someone Tripwire had their hand on his shoulder. “Run.”

And he did. What else could he do? He was only the scout, barely able to hold his own against anyone.

He had almost escaped the ruined field, twisting and diving around the animated armour stands, before something crashed into his back, grabbing and lifting him off the floor by his twisted favour. He had enough time to see unfurled bright blue, a plume of gold, before sharp pain ripped through his chest multiple times and he was cast into the foggy dark.

He crawled out of the ground in a frenzy, pushing himself free of the grasping dark that stole his thoughts and kept him dumb. He saw a silver figure before him, hand outreached, and flinched away, scrambling off the raised dais of the temple. The figure fell out of view.

Reforming on solid ground, he did what he did best; run fight run. He knew that there were doors on every side of a shadow temple how did he know that?, he just had to reach the one in front of him. He could hear shouting behind him and he pushed himself to run faster. Reaching the door, he slid under in a rush.

Only to slam straight into solid block. Reforming confusedly in the half-space afforded by the door, he stared dumbly at the iron blocks blocking his path. They had trapped him here. They? They.

The door opened, causing him to fall backwards with a yelp, having used the door to support himself. He blinked up at the silver figure above him, who gave him a sheepish grin.

“Hey, could you not run away for a bit? We kinda need to talk to you.” the person said, hand rubbing the back of his helmet as his eyes flicked to the side. Do I know you? He took the opportunity to dissipate into the floor, sliding into the natural shadow cast by the person before him. Slithering between the man’s feet, he quickly identified another door and dashed under it, reforming in the small space on the other side crouched low.

He felt disoriented, everything felt new yet old. He knew words that didn’t hold meaning, meaning that had no words, memories with no context. The fog in his mind he was previously unaware of gave him little, only hints that made his mind spin. He shifted slightly, frustrated, and felt something wrapped around his chest moved too. Jolting, he looked down at the object around his chest.

Resting against his chest piece was a purple feathered cloth, feathers fraying at the edges. At the center was a singular purple feather, perfect against the worn edges of the others. The cloth seemed twisted, as though the purple feather was meant to be on the inside. His mind focused on the colour. Purple. Just like that glowing item he had been holding. Was it the same item? His fingers wandered up to investigate, curious.

As soon as his fingers touched the feather, the fog in his mind lifted, and he remembered.

Shuddering, Cavalier curled forwards over his chest, quickly adjusting the favour around his chest to hide the most central piece behind its golden clasp, sat snugly against his breast. His hands couldn’t find the will to leave the comfort of the feather as he quickly flipped through the memories of what happened before and during his confused state.

The Empire is probably gone, he realised. Nothing more than crumbling, smoking ruins. And the enhanced darkness of the Shadow Lands was likely from Abyss exerting its power. And the person who killed him…

Cavalier shook his head, moving on to the next thought. The door he had run for was blocked off, and so was the one he was taking shelter in. Chances were, the other doors were blocked too. Guess he had to speak to the silver figure. At least they sounded nice. Problem. Who even wore silver?

…Oh.

Sighing, Cavalier allowed themselves to slide under the door and reform on the other side. From his angle, he couldn’t see anyone, although the sound of movement and words echoed through the chamber from the other side of the cavernous room. Logically, he knew that he should step around and address the voices. But in his mind, he couldn’t leave the comfort of an escape, something to hide behind, a door to slide under and away, even if it was a dead end. Instead, he called out. “Hello? Wels?”

All noise in the room halted abruptly, before it started up again, the sound of iron boots on brick. Two plumes rose above the platform, bobbing gold and red. Cavalier’s hand came up to grip his arm. Looks like Wels wasn’t alone.

The three knights stared at each other, two standing above one, tension thick in the air. Cavalier could see the sword Paladin had and Wels lacked and knew that he didn’t have one either. He gripped his arm tighter.

The tension was broken when Wels sighed, stepping down to a lower stair before sitting down. He gave Cavalier a tired smile. “Hey Cavalier. Are you ready to talk with us now?”

Cavalier nodded his head. Wels patted the stone step next to him. He watched as Paladin, standing a step behind Wels, sat down beside him, their blue cape swept to one side to avoid hitting Wels. He let his hand untense, feeling the quickly closing marks where his fingers had dug in. He didn’t sit, nor did he let his hand drop from his arm. He didn’t feel safe enough in the room to do so, not with the advantages Wels and Paladin had over him.

Especially seeing as Paladin had not untensed. Cavalier was weak, not stupid. He knew his advantages, and a fight was the last thing he wanted now.

“Cavalier.”

His attention snapped back to Wels, quick and frightened. He sighed. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just need to inform you of some, ah, changes to the server since you were gone.”

The sentence made Cavalier feel tense, like a string about to snap. “Why can’t Puzzler tell me that himself?” he asked. Defensive, he was being too defensive, he had to calm down or he won't get out easily. His fingers started to dig into his arm again. He watched Wels hesitate over the answer. A grey gauntleted hand appeared on Wels’ shoulder, gripping tight.

“Because Puzzler doesn’t exactly exist anymore.”

The world stopped entirely, tilted off the central axis of what Cavalier knew. It was now narrowed, leaving only himself drifting before the two whose worlds still held each other. He didn't even try to control the dangerously surging emotion that prompted their next words, too thrown to care. "W-what? Th-that's not possible. Shadows don't just, just, stop existing!"

He saw Wels and Paladin avert their eyes, hands reaching to hold in comfort even as they looked away from each other, and he envied them. Their worlds were safe in their hands. His had just been ripped away. He saw yellow particles that danced like stars in his vision, twirling away from him. He almost missed when Wels began speaking. No, explaining.

"You were at the siege on the Empire, correct? Long story short, Abyss won. No one except Abyss, Grian and Puzzler knows what happened up there, but Puzzler doesn’t exist anymore. Abyss took the influence of The Watchful Eyes out of Puzzler, now he goes by 3D and the Empire is no more. I think when you meet 3D for real you’ll see what I mean when I say that Puzzler is gone.”

Static filled his ears as the yellow lights continued to wink before him. Puzzler was gone? Well and truly gone? That means that the Empire was gone too. He couldn’t think of any reason that the Empire would be able to continue without Puzzler. His thoughts were spiralling out of control, but what was the use of controlling them? His safety, his comfort, his ground, it was all gone now. Without the Empire, he had no purpose, and if he had no purpose, then he was useless. No one would want him, he who was powerless and useless and unable to even defend himself at all-

“Cavalier, breathe, calm down.” His own voice- was it his own voice he didn’t quite know- cut through the static in his mind. He could faintly feel a hand on his shoulder, another gently pulling at his hand. He didn’t breathe, shadows didn’t need to, but he did force himself to calm down, mentally placing iron dams on his thoughts. Yellow still flowed past his eyes and static roared. The hand tugging on his grew more insistent. He looked down.

From his arm spilled light, bright yellow against washed out grey. His fingers were dug deep into the tear, spilling light and preventing the rift from closing. Two hands, one grey and one silver, were tugging at his fingers, trying to get them to unhook from the rift. He watched enraptured as his fingers were pried free one by one, letting the motions of being controlled comfort him. Slowly, the tear closed, leaving behind no trace of it existing, taking the static and yellow light with it. He didn’t lift his eyes from where the tear had mended, not wanting to face the reality he newly remembered.

“Cavalier, please look at us.” The words, while soft, carried a commanding edge that Cavalier could not ignore. He lifted his head to meet Wels’ eyes, all too near him, read the worry, concern in that glance and knew that he had given too much emotion. “We understand that this is a lot to take in, but please calm down. Talk to us?”

He didn’t want to talk, not anymore. He wanted to be alone, where he could sort out his thoughts in peace. He wanted to be far away from here, away from this reality. He wanted-

He wanted-

He wanted stability. But he didn’t know where to get it, and he couldn’t leave. He lifted an arm to bat away the hand on his shoulder, replacing it with his own, grounding himself. “What’s going to happen to me now?” He had to strain to keep the stammer out of his voice, staring Wels dead in the eyes.

“You can stay with us.” There was no hesitation when Wels said that. Cavalier took a step back, eyes narrowing. There was no way they had forgiven his part in the war that easily. A small voice whispered in his head, repeating the words Puzzler had drilled into him. You’re a part of the Empire now. No one else would help you if you fall. We are at war with everyone.

Wels seemed to have taken his silence as a question, for he began to explain. “They’re still looking for any shadows with feathers. Right now, you are safest with us. You can leave once the search dies down. Is that alright?”

His hand moved down from his shoulder to his chest, fingers brushing over the central clasp that held his feather. The voice whispered harshly. Everyone is out to get you. Trust no one. Just look around. He shook his head, looking away from Wels only to meet Paladin’s eyes. He saw the hardened look, the tensed shoulders, and knew he couldn’t stay. “I can’t. I’ll be fine on my own I swear. Can I go now?”

He felt Wels shift closer, could hear the inhalation before words, but he saw Paladin’s opening mouth. “You won’t make it for long. Everyone knows who was in the Empire. This is probably the last safe place for you, unless you believe you are strong enough to go against Abyss.”

Cavalier could feel his chest tighten at that. Everyone knows you’re weak. He had to go. But he also couldn’t risk a fight, weak and unarmed and outnumbered. Cavalier knew his weaknesses. But he also knew his advantages.

“And what about you? How will I know if either of you won’t take my feather while I’m not looking? Paladin is still under Abyss, and I don’t trust that.” He pointed out, taking yet another step away from the two. Yes, use that sharp wit and gathered blackmail. It will take you far. He blinked, remembering something. He turned slightly to point at Wels. “And you made a deal with the Vex. How am I supposed to feel safe in the house of my enemies?”

Wels flinched away from him while Paladin took an aggressive step forward, growling deep in their throat. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I was working with Abyss. And don’t you dare insult Wels like that, he made a deal with the Vex to keep us both safe! And you will respect that, it takes guts to haggle with the Vex, although I’m sure you wouldn’t know that, sheltered as you are.”

Cavalier forced his hands away from his body, knowing that his natural reaction to aggression was to retreat inwards. Here and now, he needed to show no fear. Fear will be your enemy and death its consequence. Remember your role and play it well. Clenching his fists, he shot back, head held at an angle Puzzler used. "Keep us both safe? Don't make me laugh. Do you look like you've been kept safe? You've got blue! Is that called 'kept safe' to you?"

The rumbling growl grew louder as Paladin's cape rippled, unfurling seamlessly into a set of draconic wings. He could see Wels reach out and grab Paladin on the shoulder, clearly attempting to pull them back. A wing slapped him backwards and away, and then Paladin was speaking, teeth gritted tight in anger. "These are not corruption. These are a gift from Wels. It’s something given when others care about you, for your information. I bet you don’t even have a gift, since everyone hates the Empire and by extension you.”

Cavalier put a hand over his breast where his own feather lay, affronted by this assault on the Empire. The Empire is your everything now. Protect it from insult. “Excuse you, but the feathers of loyalty given to us are gifts. Puzzler cares about us and gifts us with power beyond what your tiny mind can understand.” He sincerely hoped Paladin didn’t ask what Puzzler’s gift to him was, much less try to fight him to force him to ‘use’ it. That would be a lot more difficult to explain.

Paladin’s teeth were clenched by now. Cavalier could see them tense, shoulders rolling, and then suddenly they were in his face, hand twisted into his favour lifting him off the floor. Cavalier shook his head clear of his distractions, Your overactive mind is both a weakness and a strength, hands already trying to push Paladin away. The other shadow seemed unaware of his discomfort, snarling face pushed near his as their draconic wings loomed overhead. “I think this so called power has gone to your head. I’m assuming this feathered piece here is that gift of yours. Maybe if I remove it, you might be less cocky!”

Cavalier’s eyes widened in panic. Before he could protest, much less properly panic, a ripping sound resounded through the chamber, and the cursed fog rushed in to cover most of what made him Cavalier.

It landed on its backside, blinking confusedly. Above it came a hiss, accompanied by words which held no real meaning to it. It looked up at the shadow before it, yellow and blue and holding something purple. It’s focus zeroed in on the purple object. That’s mine whispered something hauntingly through the fog. It considered, tilting its head. The other shadow seemed angry, and it spoke words that didn’t always have a meaning in its mind. They have a power said the whisper in its head. So they were more powerful? Then it wasn’t going to attack them over such a small thing. It’s not it’s not a small thing get it back.

Another figure appeared behind the shadow, placing a silver hand on their shoulder. The shadow turned to speak to the silver figure, giving it full view of who it was. Instincts washed over it, screaming at it to attack, kill, hostile. Without a sound, it shifted onto all fours and leapt at the silver figure.

The silver figure shouted in surprise, falling back onto the floor. It tore at the silver figure, hands punching and scratching at exposed flesh, deaf to the shouting at attempts to fend it off. All it knew was that this was an enemy, and it needed to kill them.

Suddenly, it was being lifted off its target and held in the air. A primal fear washed over it, overriding any aggression in it and replacing it with the need to touch the ground again. It struggled against the tight bonds on it, kicking back at whoever was holding it. It felt its foot impact something hard, its attacker grunting, and then it was being dropped.

It slid into the shadow seamlessly, barely feeling the impact of being dropped. Reforming quickly, it tried once more to attack the silver figure, who had retreated a fair distance away. Before it could get near its objective, it was picked up yet again. This time however, its feet stood on something solid yet flowing even as it was restrained. It looked down and saw a swath of blue beneath it. It looked so unnatural, made something in it squeeze up.

Steps in front of it took its attention. The silver figure had approached it, empty hands held up. They were speaking, but only some words registered with meaning.

“... wrong … you? Why … attack me? ... Can you understand me? …?”

It didn’t know what was being asked of it. It just wanted the silver figure gone. It tugged at its restraints, wondering why it couldn’t turn into a shadow against it.

A set of silver hands approached its shoulders. Tilting its head forward, it opened its mouth and bit down hard. The hand felt hard. “!!!” The hard hands were jerked back away from it, leaving a slight ache in its mouth. The silver figure turned their head to speak at someone behind it. Voices filled with half-understood words flew over it as it turned its attention back to breaking out of its bonds. It didn’t understand what was preventing it from dissolving into shadow, all that was holding it up were silver clad beings and a blue cloth!

The voices fell silent, and it looked back up at the silver figure. It noticed that it was holding the purple object in their hands. Mine whispered the voice. The figure stepped forward, holding the object up. “...give back… alright?”

Yes yes give it back. The voice was no longer a whisper, muffled shouts distorted in its mind. The duality of what it wanted confused it, and it let the silver figure tie the purple item around its left arm.

The central golden clasp touched its skin, and the fog in its mind was abruptly swept away. Shuddering, he slumped at the sudden information overload, mind working overtime to process the confused thoughts and equate them to what he knew. He felt the favour being tightened around his arm, heard Wels take a big step away from him. He blinked at the blue cape beneath him, feeling the push and pull of Vex magic beneath his feet.

“Cavalier? Are you back with us?”

He tiredly lifted his head. “Yeah…” His answer came out as a whisper, but he couldn’t find it in him to speak any louder. “Thank you for returning the feather.”

Shifting behind him, then the armour stands holding him up were gently lowering him to the floor. He adjusted his legs to allow himself to sit comfortably on the cape beneath him. The armour stands let go of his arms and moved to stand guard behind him, but he couldn’t care any less in that moment. He hugged his left arm close to his chest, fingers wandering over the favour. Feeling tears in the cloth, he choked back a whimper and instead readjusted the favour to allow it to be tight while looking presentable, the feather under golden clasp held snug against his skin.

Someone cleared their throat, prompting him to look up. At some point while he was busy checking himself over, Paladin had walked around him and was now sat next to Wels, missing their cape. Their expression was simultaneously wary yet concerned, and to his surprise he noted that the concern was directed towards him. He gripped his favour closer to himself, remembering what Paladin had done earlier. They seemed to have noticed, averting their eyes and opening their mouth. “Sorry I took your feather from you. Seems like it is important to you.”

He felt so tired, he just wanted to run all the bad feelings away. “It’s alright. You didn’t know. Not many do.”

“Could you tell us then? What does that feather do?”

Cavalier flinched. Tell someone outside the Empire? He couldn’t, that was dangerous and-

There was no Empire anyway. His now calmed mind, with no voices speaking to him, laid out the situation cleanly. He needed to find someone else he could trust, and they were willing to give him a chance. Taking a deep breath, he took the plunge. “The feather is a symbol of loyalty to the Empire. I never asked for anything, but Puzzler thought it better to gift me with intelligence so that I could be useful to the Empire sooner.”

“Sooner?” came the whispered question from Paladin. They looked back, eyes boring into Cavalier. “What does that mean?”

And that was the question he had hoped to avoid. “It means I wouldn’t have to die a few times to speak and think clearly like a normal shadow.”

Paladin’s confusion was palpable. “How many times have you died then?”

He gave a crooked smile. “Just ask Wels.”

Paladin turned to look at Wels, eyes silently pleading for a response. Wels closed his eyes. “I never really noticed, but he’s right. He hasn’t died enough to talk this smoothly.”

“Wels, you’re stalling.”

“...I’ve only had to resummon Cavalier 6 times in total, including now.”

Wels opened his eyes, new understanding and confusion in them as he looked at Cavalier. “But that doesn’t quite explain why you attacked me when you lost the feather. What happened?”

The reminder of being lost made him shudder, fingers digging into the feathers of the favour. “We’re only hostile mobs in the end,” he muttered, unwilling to look up. “Everything I am as Cavalier only happened after I got the feather. Without it, I am back to square one, with foggy memories and half-remembered words. I can’t ever be separated from it, or I lose my identity.”

“And it also keeps you bound to Puzzler’s side, doesn’t it?” came Paladin’s question, pity in their voice. Cavalier cringed at the thought of being chained, shaking his head. The room fell silent.

Yet again, Wels was the one to break the silence. “Cavalier, do you feel safe with us? Be honest.”

His head shake drew a sigh out of Wels. “I can only think of one other place where you can be safe. Do you know where Stress’ Shadow Daycare is?”

The daycare? Of course he did, so many shadows converged there daily that it was the main place that Puzzler sent him to. He nodded.

Wels laced his fingers together, hands forming a small tent. “You should stay there for a bit. Stress has a very strict no fighting policy that no one dares defy other than Distress. Paladin and I may stop over to visit though. Is that arrangement alright for you?”

Cavalier considered. The Daycare was big, open, and neutral space where fighting was banned. And he found that he didn’t mind seeing Wels and Paladin again. Today had been a mess of miscommunication, but if they wanted to try, he wouldn’t mind being closer to them. He smiled at Wels and Paladin. “That sounds much better, actually. Maybe one day I will feel safe enough to visit you instead?”

The knights smiled back. “Maybe some day. You can leave whenever you want, I’ve already unblocked the doors.”

Cavalier smiled softly, standing. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then. And please, keep my secret safe.”

Turning, he stepped onto the temple floor proper, dissolving into shadow and slithering out of the building. Reforming outside, he took his bearings. Locating some distant icons, he began to run, moving towards his new future as the world turned around him.

#shadow people au #wels #cavalier #paladin #ah yes the knight trio is all here now #I finally write them together!#but their first meeting isn't exactly the smoothest #they'll get better don't worry!#they just need some work #and yes I changed the number of deaths #partly for different events #partly cause the number felt too small #no triggers this time!#my writing #happy new years gift to yall #<3 #EDIT TRIGGER TAGS #manipulation #intrusive thoughts

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icequeenjules26 · 4 years

Text

One More Step

Summary: Ash has done it. He's a pokemon Master. Theoretically, that means his journey is over - there's just one last thing for him to do before it truly is...

Word Count: 1,5k

Tags: Light Angst, Tooth-rotting Fluff

A/n: This is my fic for @pokeshippingweek day three: Anime Finale! It's a bit different than what everyone (me included...) probably think when they hear this prompt, but I just started writing, didn't pay attention, and then I just rolled with it. I hope you guys like it. Enjoy reading!

Read on AO3

Ash sighed deeply as he walked the familiar road, Pikachu perched on his shoulder, the weight natural and welcomed. The sun was slowly setting behind them, but they both knew a new day would begin soon; a day completely different than before.

A day without travel, a day without the next adventure right ahead.

It felt foreign, wrong; yet, somehow, it was gratifying.

He was a pokemon master now. He had achieved everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Or, well… Not everything.

One thing was still there, poking his heart with every step; not painful, but unpleasant, like an itch he wasn’t able to scratch. Seeing her again had not reawoken it - it had always been there, somewhere in the back of his mind - but vitalized it, as if it was a living, breathing thing that got food and water and was now more alive than ever.

He wanted her.

And not just physically - though, admittedly, that did play a role - but mentally, and most importantly, emotionally. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to tell her all was great; that he was home for good and would never leave again - or at least not without her.

Sure, there would be challengers from time to time; meaning he’d have to fly out to the indigo plateau, and he would have stuff to do, but most of the time, he’d be home.

It was just that he didn’t want home to mean the house his mom lived in - though that would always be home as well - he wanted home to mean the cerulean gym.

He wanted home to be where she was.

Though, on some capacity, it already was. Sure, he could never say that out loud without starting a discussion he was in no way ready for, but the truth was, he’d never felt home anywhere - not really - since he’d left Kanto. One could argue that it was his home country, he grew up there, of course it would be home - but that didn’t explain the feeling of home, of belonging, that one time he’d seen her in Hoenn.

Truth was, she already was his home. She just didn’t know it yet.

And his journey would never be over until she did.

___

When he woke up the next morning, he was alone in his room. Theoretically, that wasn’t too uncommon, Pikachu was usually up before him, but a look to his bed showed Ash his pokemon had clearly left in a hurry. And that could only mean one thing.

She was here. The only question was: why?

He’d seen her just a day ago, plus, they had arranged to meet later that day, with Brock and Tracey and May, who was in Kanto visiting her best friend.

He showered and dressed quickly before he made his way downstairs, where he was stopped by a sight to behold just before stepping into the kitchen.

The sun fell in through the window in the back, lighting up her light red hair and making Ash feel like his world was ablaze, engulfed in flames - which was kind of ironic since her element was water.

“Misty,” he greeted her with warmth in his voice that he just wasn’t able to redeem. He stood rooted in the doorway, almost intimidated by her beauty, unable to make another step. When she turned around her blue eyes rivaled her hair in brightness, and Ash had to use all the aloofness he’d never possessed to stop himself from gasping for air.

He was drowning in a maelstrom of blue and red, water and fire, pulling him down, down, down, endlessly, timelessly, unstoppable. And he didn’t even mind.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said, no malice in her voice, just soft teasing; and a smile on her face as she beckoned him over.

He stepped closer hesitantly, still not sure why she was there, what she was doing in his home. He knew why she wanted her to be there, but he also knew it couldn’t be the reason.

Her feelings for him were of a different kind.

But he’d have to live with it, he mused when he finally gathered the courage to take a seat next to her, had to live with all the awkwardness his confession would bring their friendship; because, as he learned the hard way on his long, long journey, only one thing was worse than failure: Never trying.

Maybe that was why he’d always chosen the next region, the next adventure, why he’d never stayed too long in one place. Because if he’d stood still for just a second too long the truth would’ve caught up with him - that she was where his path was leading him, and that he at least needed to try.

Maybe he hadn’t been ready.

Until now.

“Dehlia let me in before she went out, hope that’s okay.” Misty’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he raised his head.

“Huh? Sure-” he trailed off, unable to stop a smile from taking over his face when he finally took a good look on her. He had been so engulfed by her eyes, her face, that he hadn’t taken a look further down, but now he did, and what he saw spread a warmth through his body like warm caramel.

There, snuggled into her arms as close as possible, was his partner, his friend - his Pikachu. He was Chuuuu’ing happily as she caressed his fur, and Ash felt like his heart was about to burst. He had known the only reason for Pikachu to leave his bed so hastily would be her, but still he hadn’t expected this - this impression of peace and normalcy.

Like her arms were where Pikachu belonged.

He petted his partner’s head softly, and he looked up, a look in his eyes that told his trainer everything.

Don’t let her leave us again. Please.

Ash took a long breath.

“He missed you, you know,” he said as he looked at them, the warmth still swirling through his veins. She raised an eyebrow. “He did, huh?”

Ash felt blood rushing into his cheeks and broke into a lopsided grin. “Well, he wasn’t the only one.”

She chuckled, then she caught his eyes, suddenly entirely serious. “Good,” she said, the implication clear, and his heart jumped a mile in his chest.

“Misty, I-”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish. He had the words all in his head, knew what he needed to say, he just couldn’t; it was like they were stuck in his throat and not moving an inch.

Then he recognized the look in her eyes, the encouragement shining in them, but also the challenge. Because that was what she did: challenge him to be a better person, to be happier, more himself, every day. Even when he had traveled without her, he’d always felt it; had felt her demands, had heard her voice in his head: I dare you to be the best you can be.

He never would’ve become pokemon master without her, and he knew it.

“I love you.”

The words suddenly fell out of his mouth, unintentional, unprompted; still, he welcomed them with open arms. He hadn’t been certain of the debths of his feelings for her until he saw her again, sitting in his stands, cheering for him, but since then it had been set in stone for him, and there was nothing that could’ve changed it.

“I had this whole speech prepared about how much you mean to me, and to him,” he said with a wink to his partner, still happily snuggled into her arms, “but you know I’ve never been a person of words. I just - I need you to know that I love you.”

Tears were swimming into her eyes now, and he laid a hand on her knee as he leaned over. “This is the end of my journey, Mist. Not the League, not the spot as the Pokemon Master. The last step has always been the step to you.”

One more look into her bright blue eyes, then, suddenly, her lips were on his and time stood still.

When they broke apart, everything was still the same, but monumentally different at the same time; it was like the world had always been spinning a little wrong, a little lopsided, but now it was knocked into the correct axis, locked and secured - things had never felt so right.

“I love you too, Ash,” she answered, tears in her eyes but a certainty in his voice that shook him right to his very core.

“Pikachuuuuuuu!”

His pokemon had jumped out her arms right onto the table, and Ash and Misty grinned as he jumped up and down in excitement. “He’s not letting you go again, you know,” Ash said. She chuckled. “I bloody hope so.”

Then they were kissing again, and something inside of Ash fell into place. His journey was truly over now -

but another, even more beautiful one, was just beginning.

#pokeshipping #pokemon #ash #misty #pokeshipping week 2019 #my writing

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a-writing-bear · 4 years

Text

[AmeriPan] Chapter 3: The ‘Hell on Earth’ Task Agency

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286367/chapters/56767471#workskin

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’ But it is not formatted as well as the AO3 version.

Previous Chapter

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Alfred F. Jones & Kiku Honda (America & Japan)

AU: Demon AU/HellTaskAgency!AU - Demon!America & Businessman!Japan

Age Rating/Mature: Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)

Trigger Warnings: Mention of Incest ( no actual incest, it is only mentioned out of disgust), Joking about murder.

“I really...should get back to my co-workers…” Kiku gulped, side-eyeing the aggressive yet patient look that Mr Zwingli was sending. “I just wanted to say sorry for bumping into you this morning. I hope you moved in okay…” Lord, Kiku internally cringed at his own words- why was he even saying sorry? He could have just ignored the 2 and just…

“I do hope zoning out isn’t a hobby of yours Mr Kiku- it doesn’t seem like something your coworkers would appreciate” - Al had gotten a little bit too close to his personal bubble and the Japanese man could do nothing but look away from that dazzling smirk that seemed to be too pretty not to notice. Confused and frustrated with what must be his social ineptness, Kiku shuffled backwards before awkwardly bowing and retreating hastily to his table.

“You’re trying to corrupt him, not kill the damn thing with social awkwardness Al.” Matthew sipped on some coffee as he gazed away, Gilbert now leaning an arm around him also snivelling after Alfred’s performance. “Oh shut it. Not like you’re doing so well with ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ over there huh-”

“First off, they are siblings , I would really hate to have a Bonnie Clyde situation- incest was not in the brief. Secondly, we both know we’re going to get a job near them regardless of what we do so it was worth a shot. Zwingli’s suspicious cus he’s paranoid. He’s human .” The last word was thrown out with such disgust, despite the fact Gilbert had affectionately been poking at Matthew’s extremely cherubic cheeks; their human forms really did not aid Matthew in his grunting monologue. Alfred knew Mattie must have been bitter at the blatant disregard that Zwingli man gave him, for he had been more willing to ‘try’ the whole human thing before.

“You two need to calm down. Humans are easy, they’ll commit some crime by themselves. We just have to watch them and make sure it's a crime that will help us all. Wouldn’t that be awesome.” Before Alfred could pitch in some remark the senior demon stood up after planting a very chaste yet meaningful kiss to Matthew’s cheek and stroking his hair; “I should probably go I have another soul on my schedule today- later birdie, and good luck to you southerner- make sure you don’t get too involved with your charge.” and just like that he up and left. Confused by the strangely intimate gestures between his brother and a most revered senior he searched for an explanation on Matthew’s disgruntled glare.

“We just... really...really know each other. It’s nothing.” Alfred could barely wiggle his eyebrows at the perverse confession before his brother sent him a death glare almost as bad as the time they started that plague in Marseille a few centuries ago. He dropped it and continued to idly watch his victim from a distance, it seemed like Kiku Honda was much too occupied in the droning of that Swiss financier to notice him back- Al pouted; ah he could always wait till Monday to play with his meal.

Kiku had tried to pay attention. He really did. It was just hard when he could feel the stare of that American on him so strongly. Did he not know manners? It was rude to stare. The thoughts of the blonde hair only burst when the little girl that sat beside him coughed, searching for some attention.

“Mr Honda. I believe my brother asked you a question. Dubel …” at that last murmur said brother tutted Lili- Although he did not know what exactly had been said in their Swiss, Kiku gathered it must have been some snide remark.

“Of..of course. Yes, it is quite unfortunate trade has made tech a bit difficult but there’s not much I can do about it, Mr Zwingli. except ask for you to balance out the pay and help me scram for something.” The industry was struggling with so much saturation and the recent embargoes and trade tension between China and the US had not made it any easier. Zwingli huffed, sharing the same feeling of disappointment as Kiku.. but after a glance at his sister and flickering between his coffee and the tie of his associate, Vash leaned in and mentioned under his breath:

“You know Kiku... Yao’s been quite overzealous with his penny pinching...generous with his escapades and vacations. You’ve been slaving away quite a bit in comparison…” he paused before whispering even more. “Doesn’t seem right for the right-hand man to be fed at the feet like a dog..” Kiku tensed, suddenly his throat felt dry and a little bit of anger clouded his mind- he was not the only one who recognised the dubious actions of his childhood friend it seemed.

“What- how much is Yao stacking to himself?” Zwingli shrugged nonchalantly, again avoiding Kiku’s eyes as if he had not just admitted to possibly traitorous gossip- the Swiss man turned his head to eye that Matthew boy again, letting Kiku deal with the folder that Lili had unceremoniously slid onto the table in front of them. Give him time to view the damage. Nervously, but with some fiery fingers, the short man opened the folder, ripping it up as if it contained the secrets of the world- if it explained the month shortcomings then perhaps it was the whole world. Kiku’s face went through a tremendous hurricane of negative emotions- disbelief, disrepair and complete fury...and sudden absolute blankness.

“I see.” Humming away in agreement, Vash spoke with his eyes still trained on Matthew on the other table: “Reasons I don’t work with childhood friends.” For some absurd reason, Mr Honda could not stop himself from trying to rationalise or reason on behalf of traitor:

“Yao was reasonable growing up, I have always trusted him- it's like how you are with Ms Lili-”

“Lili would stab me in the back if she knew I was costing us a fortune. At least I hope she would. I taught her well enough. Siblings don’t owe you anything, and friends most certainly don’t.” to that Lili preened, as if a child is praised for cleaning her room, not at the analogy of betraying her own kin. Kiku brewed in his own discomfort and the revelation for a short while before Zwingli cut in once again.

“You know much about those two?” the businessman nudged his head motioning to Kiku’s new neighbours. He shook his head and spoke the truth of knowing just as much as his partner did. “There’s something about them. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Lili’s voice, soft like a bird chimed in, “They are quite easy on the eyes brother.” and just as she uttered the words the two brother

Zwingli only scoffed in response and sipped his near cold coffee. That was not what bothered him.

“That Zwingli dude’s been staring at us.” Alfred tried to play it cool and look subtle in her observation. Matthew had gotten a magazine and was doing much better at the covert spying.

“No shit sherlock. He was looking at me like he wanted me roasted on a spit.”

“If you play your cards right maybe he will roast someone else. Get your work done quickly ya know.” Alfred grinned as his brother rolled his eyes. The two got up and headed out to explore earth’s delights, before the back and forth ogling got too suspicious to warrant a restraining order. Tomorrow the two had to go down to Hell and pop into Arthur’s office just to report on how they’ve settled.

“Do you Artie could tamper with my form a bit? I don’t know if I dig the whole classic American boy next door thing going on; being stuck in this for the next 200 years is just a bit dull.” Matthew huffed as they entered their apartment, the afternoon had already faded into a quiet evening.

“Ask him yourself. I was planning on going down tonight and staying there till Monday, to save me from dealing with human night cycles for a bit…”

“Already sick of human life?” Al sniggered before aiding his brother in positioning their candles on the floor in the trademark pentagram and conjuring up a rough but secure portal to their real abode. The walls of their earthly apartment crumbled as the two were engulfed in a blaze of bright and deadly flame. It was a quick half-second that they appeared in the glorious office of their higher up Arthur.

“Bloody hell, must you two always show up with the foulest stench? Clean up before you blast in” The demon with his huge grey wings cringed at his desk from the lingering odour of humans that had clung to Alfred and Matthew, that had invaded his office. Al shrugged, already past the stink of mortal life, and sauntered forward towards his boss.

“When were you gonna tell me Gil is a district manager up top huh?”

“It was in the case of file imbecile. and Matthew told me it would not interfere with your jobs- have you already screwed it up Matt-”

“Fuck off. Alfred just doesn’t read his crap.” Arthur’s brows were raised in surprise- Matthew, despite being a demon, had always been more diplomatic and civil compared to the lot of them.

“Ignore him, he’s bitter about the whole job transfer thing. Anyway, I know it all just began but when can we be transferred back to the patrol division- I already take back what I said about it being boring.” Arthur shot him a pestered look before reminding the pair that the contract would last for 200 years.

“I suppose it could be shortened though...the morality and ethics department have been missing dear old Mattie; it's not the same torturing people when you can’t use moralistic irony on them.” Matthew’s disdain snapped to sudden interest- he would do anything to get out the mess Alfred had gotten them into; he’d sell his soul if he had one. Alfred, on the other hand, was fiddling with some skulls that Arthur had been using as a paperweight as his brother negotiated terms to lower their sentence on earth.

“If you can finish your research, then I’ll get Francis to draft you guys back down here. Alfred will still be on suspension and on the petty crime division but back in hell nonetheless.” satisfied with such terms the 3 shook on it, signing a secondary contract that sizzled up into an invisible seal of demonic promise the moment the pen lifted off the scroll.

“I can’t keep playing favourites with you two, I’ve got other creatures on my payroll. I’m expecting Armageddon level chaos up there. No take-backs, and when I see the papers I want the murder to be fantastically gruesome and that company to be reeking of corporate greed- enough for the big man himself to come to knock by our offices. I need a fucking bonus down here..the newer recruits are all too wimpy to carry out real torture. Now go. The real work starts Monday” Arthur shooed them, flicking some invisible force that pushed them out of his office doors and into the hot underworld.

“Well I’m gonna stop M&E and witness the new sinners, everyone keeps saying the new wave of demons are inefficient. I won’t be back till we have to go back up top.” Matthew had already begun cracking his neck and stretching his spine as he grew out his dark maroon wings, faux-human form melting away as he began fluttering off into the distance. Alfred kicked the dust at his feet before stretching his arms with a bored yawn- his wings unfurled with a puff and he picked at his re-emerged fangs with complete monotony. Perhaps he should pay to those seedier creatures that lurked near his den around this time. Just as he made his way to his den, he saw some scuffling of some frazzled looking fledgeling- the tail of the little thing curling in panic.

“Hey. Why ya lurking around someone else's territory runt? Go back to your own nest..” the little thing had the tiniest wings, scruffy black feather with yellowish flecks that reminded him of Arthur. In fact, the hair on the top of the premature hell-raiser was reminiscent of his boss so much that it could not have been a coincidence. Oh, hell had Arthur pumped out another batch of fledgelings? Crap that guys ancient there’s like no way he’s got so much-

“Are you Alfred?” the thing squeaked out, some confidence spilling over as it turned to face Alfred's chest straight. Al decided to entertain the creature, he had nothing better to do till Monday anyway. Before he could finish nodding the creature jumped into a salute and yelled the most idiotic thing Al could ever imagine.

“COULD YOU SMUGGLE ME UP TOP?”

Just how dumb were the new fledgelings these days? Hell' has really gone down the drain...

#hetalia #america #hws america #hws japan #hetalia world stars #APH America #aph japan #america x japan #hws #Hetalia Fanfiction #alternate universe #demon!au #heta #multichapter #hetalia fandom #fanfc #fanfiction

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jedimordsith · 6 years

Text

Ian (aka more scraps from my fic closet)

[AU in which post -TTT Mara discovers she has a son. By Vader. Alternative beginning to the same fic I posted part of here.]

She died. The karking doctor had up and died in the short time it had taken them to get from Coruscant to Stewjon. Dammit. There would be no asking of questions, now. No chance to get additional details, or to gently transition her son into her custody. But nothing had ever come easily, and Mara saw no reason to really start expecting it to now. Hells, with a half-Skywalker in tow, things were going to get harder, most likely.

As soon as they landed, she contacted the Togrutan lawyer. He was eager to get the entire messy business off his hands and invited them directly to his offices. The trip into the heart of the city, such as it was, felt excruciatingly slow. As they approached the building, however, Mara's breath caught.

“Corran…”

“Yeah, I feel him too.”

“Oh, Force.” Her son glimmered, even at a distance. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

They dropped the speeder off in the lot and trooped inside. In the turbo-lift, Mara straightened her clothing and ordered herself into her most regal posture. Just before the doors opened, she tilted her chin up.

A polite, slightly harried looking Twi'lek met them and ushered them inside. Master Co'dune would be with them momentarily about the paperwork, she assured, but they could have the boy now if they were ready. Mara nodded and followed, the others waiting where they were as the woman tapped gently on a side door, then opened it and waved Mara in.

Deciding that was all the introduction she was going to get, Mara took a deep breath and stepped inside. The room was obviously a small conference room, the sort typically used for the reading of wills and other such small gatherings. Two cushy chairs had been pushed together to make a sort of lounging space, and a small boy slumped dejectedly in one of them, partially covered by a threadbare blanket.

He was hers.

One look, one soft brush in the Force, and she knew it to the core of her being. Mara's heart contorted in ways she hadn't known were possible.

He looked like Luke. A small, sleepy version of Luke with tousled blond hair and mussed, worn clothes and an impossibly bright Force signature for someone so small. When the door softly clicked shut behind her, he looked up, blinked at her with eyes the color of Chandrilian sea glass.

“You're very bright.” The observation was distinctly surprised and pleased, and not at all what Mara had expected.

“So are you,” she answered after a moment. “Did they tell you who I am?”

The little blond head nodded solemnly. “My mama.”

The words were said with a statement of fact, but underneath them Mara caught a familiar sensation that made her heart clench. One she knew all too well – the turning over of a concept in the mind that one's heart had never experienced. She knew with painful intensity what it was to understand the idea of a mother, but have not the slightest practical exposure to it.

It unexpectedly hurt to see such a familiar sensation in him. Seeing him suffer, even in this small amount, was a physical ache in her chest. Fierfek.

“That's right,” she confirmed, intentionally radiating calm.

“Are you going to give me away?” he asked, his little face scrunching up in concern.

“What?” Mara frowned, forgetting for a moment just how fearsome her expression got when she did that.

Ian shrank into himself, but stuttered bravely, “Nanna and Misser Co'dune said you might not want me.”

For a moment, Mara flashed back to the dark, imposing halls of the Imperial Palace, remembering vividly the stress of being a small child aware that she could be banished – or worse – at any moment, for the smallest failure or infraction.

Enough. It was time to take control and get some critical groundwork squared away. Crossing the distance between them, Mara crouched down as she had so often watched Skywalker do when interacting with the Solo kids or the smallest younglings at the Academy. Reaching for him, she settled strong hands settled firmly on his sturdy little torso and leaned forward to look him squarely in the eye.

“You are mine, Ian, and I am going to take you with me.” One hand came up to brush his cheek in a gesture she didn't recognize, but which seemed to happen of its own accord. “No one is ever going to take you away from me again.”

The boy tipped his head to the side, considering her with serious, hopeful eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Carefully, she reached out with a solid, steady tendril of her own Force presence, offering it to him silently.

His eyes unfocused slightly as he considered it, then instinctively and a bit clumsily reached out for it.

Then the boy's little Force presence caught and wrapped around hers like a baby's finger clutching at its mother's; both their private worlds instantly and irrevocably shifted on their axis. A new connection blossomed inside her, snug and permanent, beside the Luke-place in her heart and mind.

The child must have felt the same, because his face and Force presence lit up like a flare. Wonder exploded through him like a supernova and he threw chubby arms around her neck. For a second she tensed, taken completely by surprise. Then she wrapped her arms around him and scooped him up, cradled against her chest, his little blond head buried in her shoulder.

“Come on,” she told him. “Let's go meet the rest of your new family.”

- -

Corran's head snapped up when Mara stepped out of the small room with a child settled on her hip. Sweet Hoth he looks like Luke.

Beside him, Mirax fell reflexively into “mother mode”. “Oh, Mara, he's beautiful.”

Mara nodded, accepting the compliment with equanimity. “Ian, this is your Aunt Mirax, Uncle Corran, and Uncle Talon.”

The child blinked clear, blue-green eyes at them curiously. “Hullo.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Ian,” Talon Karrde held a large, elegant hand out to the boy.

Apparently unsure what to do, Ian gamely stuck his own hand out and let the Information Broker shake it, looking inexplicably pleased at the gesture.

“What's that?” he asked, catching sight of the fluffy object in the man's other hand.

“This is a vornskyr,” Karrde told him, offering the plush grey stuffed animal. “It's for you, if you'd like.”

Brightly, the boy reached for it with both hands and hugged it, reveling in its incredibly soft fur. “Look, Mama! A vonker!”

Mara did, amused. Where in Hoth's name Karrde had gotten a stuffed vornskyr, particularly on such short notice, was impossible to imagine. But he was Talon, and Mara had long since given up being surprised at what the man could promptly produce or procure if the desire struck.

“I see,” she peered at the critter seriously, and felt her son's approval at her attention. “I believe it's appropriate to say thank you when someone give you a gift.”

Corran felt a twinge watching Mara take her first tentative steps into the complex world of parenting. It was a scary thing, even for people who'd been raised in a loving, functional home. For someone with Jade's abysmal history, it had to be petrifying-ly unfamiliar ground. His already formidable resolve instantly doubled. She's not going to do it alone.

“Thank you, Uncle Talon,” Ian said, his brow furrowing as he considered both the new rule of “thank yous” and the startling reminder that he now had not only a mother, but something wonderful called an “uncle”.

Karrde smiled kindly. “You're very welcome, little Jade.” His gaze flicked to Mara. “His is keeping your last name, I assume?”

Mara nodded resolutely. “Yes.”

Experienced with reading small Force-strong children, Corran was first to catch the hints of hunger in the little boy's unconscious Force musings and spoke up.

“Ian, what's your favorite food?”

The boy looked up, surprise quickly giving way to serious contemplation. The intentness of his expression was adorable, and Mara couldn't help but gaze at her new-found son fondly. Kriff, he's going to turn me into a ball of mush.

“Fried tubers,” the boy announced. “With sauce. The blue kind.”

Mirax, by now well practiced at taking advantage of her husband's Force leadings, held out her arms. “What do you say we go find some fried tubers, then, while your mother and Uncle Talon deal with some flimsey-work?”

Ian clutched his vornskyr, a sudden spike of anxiety darting through him. Mara clearly caught the pang of fright and image of an empty room he unknowingly projected. It took her a few seconds to work out what it meant.

“Uncle Corran and Aunt Mirax will make sure you get safely back to me,” she reassured, shifting him so they were eye to eye again. “Remember my promise?”

“Never away again,” the child said seriously, nodding.

“Right,” Mara affirmed. “You're not going away, you're just getting some food.” On an impulse she couldn’t explain, she wrapped her hand around his and turned the vornskyr toward him. “After all, vornskyrs get very cranky if they don't eat regularly, and I can't have this one eating my flimsey-work or we'll never get out of here.”

Ian giggled. “Vonkers don't eat flimsy-work!”

Mara raised an eyebrow at him. “How do you know?”

That stumped him.

Corran laughed. “How about we look up vornskyrs on the holo-net while we eat our tubers?” he suggested.

That pleased the boy, and he consented to being transferred to Mirax's waiting arms. The three began an animated conversation about food and vornskyrs as they left the room.

“He attached to you quickly,” Karrde observed.

“I'm afraid that goes both ways,” Mara confessed, folding her arms across her chest, a touch of worry in her voice. Her eyes slid closed. “Kriff, Talon. The Force bond was instant.” Her hand came up, rubbing at her chest unconsciously. “He's right there, next to Luke, already. And he's so damn bright.”

“He's yours,” Karrde said with a shrug. “Did you really expect anything different?”

She shook her head. “He deserves better.” She made a helpless gesture. “No child that good should have to have me for a mother.”

Talon scowled at her. “I don't expect to hear nonsense like that out of your mouth ever again,” he chided sternly, making her look up, startled. Real displeasure colored his aura in the Force. “You're going to a fine mother.” His blue eyes bored into her, their intensity refocusing her and straightening her spine. “In fact, you're going to be exactly the kind of mother he needs – one strong enough to handle and protect him.”

He truly believes that, she thought, taken aback. The idea unexpectedly settled her. Karrde didn't have the Force, but he knew people. He knew her more than almost anyone, and she trusted his judgment.

“Right,” she said, pulling herself together. “Let's go get the flimsy-work over with then.” A faint smile quirked at the corners of her mouth. “And see if we can order a case of fried tubers for the Wild Karrde.”

#fic scraps #my fic #abandoned fic snippet #Mara Jade #very long

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alia-turin · 6 years

Text

It is the end of the year and I am indulging in some guilty pleasure. I started writing that thing two weeks ago, but then holidays happened and after that my ear decided it has to be a little twat and hurt. So I’m sorry if the fic is super messy, it’s one of these things I started writing just because, not even planning to post it, but it’s the end of the year and why not. Enjoy some Glaives shenanigans and smut.

Fic Title: Never Have I Ever Rating: M (drinking, swearing, smut) Couple: Luche/OC, Crowe/OC (mentioned) Summary: It’s Libertus’ birthday and Tredd comes with the brilliant idea they all play never have I ever. Also Tredd gets terribly drunk. Notes: Fic is sort of spin off to my Comrades OC story. I just needed to write Ada being a bit happy, a bit more like herself. Also I am sorry about the messy writing once again. I hate writing fics over a long period of time and this one took me 2 weeks as I said.

Tagging you wonderful people, might not be everyone’s cup of tea so if you don’t feel like reading, I am not getting offended at all. @lazarustrashpit @jojopitcher @kairakara101 @birdsandivory @ladychocoberry @theyearofdiamonddogs @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy

Add pulled out the cookies from the oven when the knock on the door came.

“Could you please open?” Crowe shouted from her room.

Ada left the cookies on the counter when another inpatient knock followed. She knew exactly who that was.

“You look amazing!” Tredd waked in as she opened the door giving her a wide grin. “Have I told you how much I enjoy looking at you?”

“Tredd, where is the cake?” Ada asked concerned seeing he had brought nothing but himself. They had split the responsibilities for that event, Ada and Crowe were hosting and they were going to prepare some of the food, Tredd had to grab the cake, Luche was bringing the drinks Pelna was bringing the rest of the food.

“Cake? What cake?” Ada could feel herself getting from calm to angry in a matter of a second. Then Tredd started laughing. “Relax my minion is bringing it.”

“Fuck you, Tredd.” Axis’ voice echoed from the staircase below.

“Could you please leave it in the fridge, I have made some space.” Ada directed Axis as he final reached the door.

“Cookies!” Tredd shouted and ran toward the kitchen before Ada could stop him.

“Not now!” Crowe’s voice roared in the apartment and Ada gave out a sight of relief. She was hoping the cookies would survive at least till everyone arrived.

“Hey!” Luche’s voice came from behind her and Ada jumped not expecting someone to be there. “Easy it’s just me.” He gave her a warm smile and lifted up the two bags that he was carrying, the bottles inside ringing. “Where should I leave these?”

“Why are you in uniform?” she grabbed the bags from him and passed them to Tredd who had joined to check who was coming.

“Drautos kept me.” He explained taking his duffel bag off his shoulder. “Can I change somewhere?”

“Sure, my room is down the corridor, please ignore the boxes.” Ada suddenly felt very embarrassed about the state of her room. From all the people in the world he was the last one she wanted to see the mess. She had a valid excuse for that mess, she was moving out tomorrow, but still felt silly about the piles of boxes and suitcases.

One by one the rest started arriving. Pelna brought more food than they all could possibly eat in one night and Crowe’s new girlfriend brought more alcohol. All that was left was for Nyx to finally bring Libertus.

“Ada.” Tredd sat next to her on the couch and gave her a glass of wine. “You still want me to help you tomorrow?”

“Yes…” she suddenly got worried he would bail out on her. Beside Libertus’ birthday, today was also her last day living with Crowe she had finally managed to find her own place. She had asked Tredd to help her move since he has one of these big trucks absolutely unreasonable for city living. “Don’t tell me you are doing something else tomorrow.”

“No, I’m all yours, babe. Just wanted to make sure you still needed me.” He gave her a very wide grin and Ada sighed. For the past five months with the Kingsglaive she had developed the ability to ignore him to a masterful level. Tredd would flirt with anything and anyone, walk into someone’s personal space, without any consideration. All that bothered her for a week, then she just learned to ignore him and act normally.

“Please don’t call me babe.” Ada made a face at him as she saw Luche coming. She didn’t mind Tredd’s flirting, just not in front of Luche.

“What are you guys doing tomorrow?” Luche joined them on the couch placing himself between her and Tredd.

“He is helping me move out. Well he and Crowe.” Ada explained trying to ignore the fact that Luche was way too close. He always had this habit of being too close to her, which she liked but also tried to avoid. Whenever he was that close she was thinking about nothing but him.

“Is it tomorrow?” he seemed surprised. “Why didn’t you ask me for help?”

Ada had told him she was moving out this week but never asked him for help. It was childish of her, but she was still trying to decide on scale one to ten how much of a terrible idea was it to have a crush on him. Beside Crowe he was her best friend and part of her was happy with things being just like that but another part wanted way more than friendship.

“Because of these?” Tredd answered unknowingly saving her and flexed his arm and showing them his biceps.

“’Kay guys listen up!” Crowe walked in with her girlfriend. “That’s is Lucia and you will be nice with her. You know Ada.” Ada had met the woman before, sweet thing with long blond hair and big blue eyes. “The guy next to her is Luche, the red head is Tredd, just ignore everything he says. Axis is the guy you met in the kitchen and the guy that just walked in is Pelna.”

“What about me?” Pelna had missed what was going on and suddenly looked like a child that was caught reaching for the cookie jar when he wasn’t supposed to be.

“Sonitus, nice to meet you!” the man introduced himself as he walked in.

“You are very late. Nyx should be here any moment with Libertus.” Crowe almost sounded as if she was scolding him but ignored him right after for something that Pelna whispered in her ear which made her laugh.

“Where have you been?” Tredd asked Sonitus as he passed him a drink.

“Worse guard duty. You remember last week when Drautos told us to behave and we didn’t.” Tredd nodded, Luche laughed. “Well I was put on guard duty in the citadel today as punishment. Boring as usual, but something interesting happened. The captain had a meeting with the king, and no idea what the meeting was about but you should have seen Drautos as he walked out. He was so angry that I thought he might punch me just so he gets some anger out of his system.” Ada wondered what was that about but didn’t miss to see the look Luche and Tredd exchanged.

“Explains why he kept me so late and why he was acting as if someone pissed in his coffee.” Luche added.

“…and that’s Nyx texting that they are downstairs.” Crowe said loud enough to attract everybody’s attention.

Ada went to switch off the lights and everyone remained silent waiting for Nyx to bring Libertus upstairs. The whole apartment went absolutely quiet and they could hear Libertus complaining about something to Nyx. Somebody in the room giggled and then a very loud ‘shuuush’ followed from Crowe which made the rest of them laugh. In that exact moment Nyx walked in, Ada switched on the lights but instead of everyone wishing Libertus happy birthday they were all just giggling and laughing.

“Surprise?” Libertus screamed ironically and waved his hands up.

“You are all terrible humans!” Crowe was the only one who wasn’t laughing her ass off at that point. To be fair that whole surprise party was her idea and she had organized most of it so Ada could understand why she felt like murdering them all. On the other hand, you couldn’t expect that bunch to stay serious for more than ten minutes unless they were on the battlefield.

“Happy birthday, Libertus.” Ada told him as he passed next to her and gave him a warm hug. “There is food and drinks in the living room and cold drinks in the fridge.”

“Let’s play never have I ever!” Tredd almost yelled in order to get everyone to hear him since they all had returned to their pervious conversations or just wished Libertus happy birthday.

And they did. Since Tredd had suggested he had to start first.

“Never have I ever taken a pregnancy test” he said that very proud of himself. Nobody drank.

“Tredd there are literary three people here who potentially might have done that, that’s a very stupid question.” Libertus said that and threw a peanut at him.

“I had to try! It could have been a cool story behind it!” he defended himself but no one seemed to agree with his logic.

“Okay my turn!” Libertus said since he was sitting next to Tredd. “Never have I ever gotten lost in an amusement park.”

Ada drank, Tredd drank.

“How?” Nyx asked.

“I was six!” Ada defended herself. She really was six and it was scary.

“I have no excuse.” For some reason Tredd seemed embarrassed and drank again.

“Okay…” Crowe thought for a second. “Never have I ever been in Drautos’ office, that’s our captain.” She explained for her girlfriend. “Without being asked to be there.”

All the guys drank excluding Pelna.

“Don’t tell me you were there together.” Ada teased.

“No, I just wanted to go through his files.” Tredd admitted.

“I was hiding from him.” Libertus added and everybody laughed.

It was Lucia’s turn and she seemed a bit unsure what to say. Crowe whispered something in her ear.

“Hey no helping! You had your turn.” Axis shouted.

“I wasn’t helping. I just told her none of you is shy so she shouldn’t go easy on you.” Crowe defended herself.

“I’m shy.” Nyx laughed after he drank from his glass and his own laugh almost made him spit his drink.

“Okay I have one!” The blonde woman said. “Never have I ever been in handcuffs for any reason.

There was a moment of silence nobody moved, they all just looked at each other waiting for someone to reach for their glass. Pelna sighed, swore and drank, then it was Nyx, Sonitus, Tredd and Ada.

“Wait, wait stop!” Axis said. “Aren’t you underaged?” he pointing at Ada.

“I’m almost twenty…plus I might have been arrested…get your mind out of the gutter.” That wasn’t the case, but she might have been.

“Before any of you says anything, I was arrested.” Tredd added.

“I was handcuffed to a bedpost.” Nyx admitted.

“My turn. Never have I ever had sex with someone whose name I didn’t know.” Luche said.

Tredd drank and Nyx drank.

“Oh, you two!” Crowe made a disgusted face.

“Things happen sometimes okay? Don’t judge.” Was the only explanation Tredd provided, Nyx didn’t even bother to explain, he just enjoyed his drink.

“Never have I ever given or received a lap dance.” Ada said.

Everybody drank and she felt like that was some sort of small victory.

“Never have I ever been so drunk I couldn’t remember how to get home.” Axis chuckled in Tredd’s direction.

“Fuck you.” Tredd drank and then continued. “It was your fault.”

Libertus drank as well which made Crowe stare at him in disbelief.

“In my defense, I went to Nyx’s place instead of my own, just got the address wrong, thought I live there.” Everybody was laughing before Libertus could even finish his sentence.

“Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex.” Sonitus said quickly.

Crowe and her girlfriend drank, Ada drank, Nyx drank and Luche drank.

“You two together?” Ada raised an eyebrow and pointed an Nyx and Luche.

“He has a stick too far up his ass for me to kiss him.” Nyx laughed.

“Too much of a hero complex for my taste.” Luche toasted with his glass and drank.

They continued like that and Ada learned more about her colleagues than she probably wanted to. Tredd and Crowe had tried to flirt their way out of a speeding ticket and Tredd had been successful. Pelna and Nyx had lied about their birthdays just so they get a free dessert in a restaurant. Crowe’s girlfriend was insanely good at that. Every time it was her turn she managed to make all of them to drink. Apparently, they all had crush on someone in the Kingsglaive at some point or currently and they all had flirted with someone they worked with.

At the end of the evening Tredd was so drunk he couldn’t stand from the couch and Nyx had to drive Libertus home for similar reasons. Crowe and her girlfriend went to Crowe’s room and Ada was left alone with Tredd and Luche.

“Hey Ada…I’m cold.” Tredd said, half asleep on the couch.

“What do you want me to do? Set you on fire?” she asked and Luche laughed.

“That sounds painful.” Tredd said with very innocent voice. “A good night kiss?”

Ada sighed but leaned forward and kissed his forehead. As she pulled away and was about to tell him that was one time only just because he had managed not to say anything stupid in fifteen minutes, he was already asleep.

“Let me help you.” Luche grabbed couple glasses and helped her carry them to the kitchen. “So, who is your crush.” He whispered behind her.

“What?” Ada almost dropped the glasses as he asked her that.

“You tell me yours, I tell you mine.” Very calmly he left the glasses he was carrying in the sink, his body brushing against hers.

Ada bit her lower lip as she was usually doing when she was nervous. He was her friend, her closest friend not counting Crowe, he was also her mentor in a sense and a superior. He was also her crush despite how hard she was trying to hide it and deny it even to herself.

“It’s you.” She finally admitted.

“Huh, funny.” For a second she thought Crowe was wrong and in fact he didn’t like her, but next thing she knew he was leaning over her kissing her gently.

“You are drunk.” Ada said as he pulled away from her lips, but his body was way too close to hers.

“I had just couple of drinks, not enough to join the sleeping beauty on the couch.” He smiled and pushed her against the kitchen counter. “It’s funny because I happen to have a crush on you. Pretty bad one.” He finally admitted with a very cunning smile.

“Why you never did anything?” Ada’s body had developed a mind on its own and her hands moved to his waist and pulled him even closer to her.

“I’m now.” he touched her face with his knuckles. “Plus, I didn’t want to make it awkward between us. I like you, but I also value you as a friend.”

She realized he spends too much time with her but she dismissed all as he is being friendly and nice. Then Crowe had pointed it out and she could see the little details, but again never said anything. It wasn’t her place to say anything, what if he really was just super friendly and that was going to make it awkward between them. After all he had become a close friend, crush or no crush, and they did have a lot in common, that she didn’t want to lose.

“You can talk to me, you know.” He said after she had been standing there for probably a good minute not saying anything, just having some sort of internal monologue.

“My bedroom.” She was still keeping her hands on him but now moved them under his shirt feeling the tense muscles of his back.

“You are not giving the orders here.” He pulled her up and places her on the kitchen counter reaching for a kiss but Ada pulled away and pointed toward Tredd who was sleeping but if awaken could see exactly what they were doing. “He sleeps like corpse when he is drunk don’t worry.” Luche dismissed her concern and tried to kiss her again.

“All we need is for him to wake up to pee…” Ada insisted.

“Fine. Your bedroom.” Luche grunted and grabbed her from the kitchen counter carrying her to the bedroom while his lips weren’t leaving hers. Her room was absolute mess with boxes all over the place but at least her bed was in order. He gently let her step on the ground breaking their kiss just for a second when Ada pulled his shirt up and took it off. Looking at him like that was…different. It wasn’t her first time seeing him half naked but now it felt different. She had caught herself staring at him at the gym when he would take his shirt off, or thinking how his skin would feel under her fingers, but now she could actually fell it. She ran her fingers down his neck, to his collar bones, and hard chest placing her palm over his heart which was beating faster than she expected. At that moment he stepped back and sat on her bed, Ada was about to follow him but he stopped.

“No. Take off your clothes.” He smirked at her and Ada gave him slightly puzzled and confused look. “You sad you never stripped for anyone. Do it for me.”

She was pleasantly amused he actually remembered what she had done and she hadn’t, but then again, she also had made a mental not of all the times he drank and didn’t drink. She reached for the end of her t-shirt and slowly stared pulling it up, her eyes fixed on his. He wasn’t doing anything just watching her, but she could see his breathing was becoming more rapid. As her top was out of the way she reached for her jeans slowly unbuttoning them. She could see his jaw clenching, his eyes looked almost black. As she pulled her jeans down and kicked them away as gracefully as she could Luche reached and pulled her closer to himself. He didn’t say anything but turned her around, his face against her back. Ada turned her head confused, but just then he started kissing down her spine, his hands skillfully undoing her bra. He started varying between soft kisses and bites, definitely leaving marks. He held her firm with one arm around her waist, the other he moved between her legs and started rubbing slowly against the already wet fabric.

“You like that?” he asked her as she moaned louder than she expected. Luche turned her around, this time facing her. His mouth started kissing just below her breasts going down to her tummy and Ada couldn’t believe how pleasant she found all that. He slowly pulled her underwear down and she kicked it away eagerly. His fingers were quickly doing the same thing they did before, but this time there was no fabric on the way. Ada pushed herself closer to him, wanting to feel more, but that was when he moved back, again, and just stared at her.

“Could you not stop when it’s getting interesting.” She could barely control her desire for him right now.

“You need to earn it.” He started undoing his pants and Ada laughed. She should have expected that from him. She went on her knees, pulling his jeans and boxers down. He moved his hand at the back of her head but didn’t guide her of force her down on his shift for which she was grateful since she was certainly going to gag on his length. She brushed her lips against his dick, then followed the same pattern with her tongue. Luche was getting inpatient as he tried to push against. She started stroking him slowly with one hand, the other placed on his abs feeling how tense his muscles were. She slowly took him in her mouth, hearing the most pleasant groan coming from his lips. He left her at her own pace for a while, but she was going slower on purpose and at some point, he couldn’t last any longer like that. His hand started dictating her speed and Ada had to try very hard not to laugh and choke at the same time. Eventually he pulled out lifting her chin up and making her look him in the eyes.

“You are fucking beautiful.” He said running his fingers through her hair.

“You are saying that only because I just sucked your dick.” Ada smiled and gave his tip a teasing kiss.

“I would have said it before you did it to convince you that’s a good idea.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her toward himself. “Come here.”

She was on top of him, his hands resting on her waist. Ada started moving down slowly, one of his hands moved between his legs to guide him in her. She was hungry with desire for him but there was something strangely pleasant in going slowly. She could enjoy every inch of him while watching his body tense in anticipation and his breathing becoming more rapid. Once his full length was in her he moved both of his hands on her ass and helped her move up and then down. Funny how technically she was on top, but he was the one in control. Luche pulled his body closer to hers, his chest pressing against her breasts, his lips tracing the length of her neck with kisses. She moved a bit making sure to get him hit all the right places and he moved one of his hands between the two of slowly massaging exactlyw here she wanted his fingers to touch. Her finger grabbed his back, feeling tense muscle below them, her nails dug in his skin as she felt herself getting closer. He was still controlling the speed of her movement and thrusting in her as she came her whole body clenching around his.

“Good girl.” He whispered in her ear as he stopped moving just gently moving his fingers down the length of her spine. Luche’s lips started placing soft kisses on her neck while she was trying to gather her thoughts. Once her breathing was back to normal he grabbed her and rolled her under himself.

Ada wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him closer to her, but he didn’t need the invitation. He shoved his full length almost brutally in her making her moan load. He grunted and leaned as close as possible to her, kissing and biting her neck and shoulders. He was setting a quicker pace than before, the slow gentle way he allowed when she was on top absolutely gone. Ada could feel her second orgasm coming way faster than she expected, her legs wrapping tighter around him wanting him to go even harder.

“Luche…” she moaned his name as her body shivered with pleasure below him and arching her body closer to his. He didn’t slow his speed, prolonging her orgasm but his moves were far less controlled and more rapid. He grunted as he came, his body tensing on top of hers and then relaxing. Neither of them moved, they were both breathing heavy.

“We should have done that months ago.” He said as he rolled next her, his chest still raising too fast.

“Better late than never.” Ada said as she got off the bed.

“Where do you think you are going.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward himself.

“Shower? You are welcome to join.” She smirked at him and he smiled back.

Ada woke up feeling the warmth of Luche’s body wrapped around her. His arms were squeezing her so close for a second she thought he was awake, but when she turned around he was just beginning to wake up.

“You are still here…” she remarked a bit surprised.

“You want me to go?” Luche placed a lazy kiss on her neck.

“No, I just thought…you might want to leave…”

“Why would I do that?” he pulled her toward himself and made her face him. “I like being in bed with you. You remind me of home so much…it’s like holding piece of home, I’m not going to run from that.”

“We probably need to keep it low-key.” She knew what was going to happen if the other caught wind on that. She wasn’t going to hear the end of it for very long time and there was also the question what would the Captain do.

“Probably not a terrible idea. Although I don’t really care what the others say.” He placed a kiss on her neck. The sound of pans and pots came from the kitchen. Crowe was already awake.

“We have to figure out an excuse why you slept here…” Ada didn’t want to think about any of that. She was enjoying the warmth of his body and his kisses way too much.

“I got drunk, crashed on your floor because Tredd was snoring.” He pulled away for a second and looked her in the eyes. “Don’t worry. I have it under control.”

She wasn’t worried just…concerned. She liked him too much, not because he obviously knew what to do in the bed, but also as a friend. Ada didn’t want to lose that.

An hour later they were finally out of bed or at least Luche was, Ada was still naked lying on the bedcovers watching him getting dressed.

“The only good thing about Drautos keeping me last night is I have spare clothes.” He said as he pulled pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt from his bag. Ada was half a mind to tell him to leave all that and come back to bed, just watching the lean muscles of his body work on simple tasks like bending or putting on clothes made her mind sink in memories about last night, his body all rigid under her fingers.

“You need to get dressed, it’s too distracting.” He smirked as he was looking around the room to pick up his clothes from last night.

“Are you in a hurry?” Ada got out of the bed and took the t-shirt he was wearing last night refusing to give it to him when he extended his hand for it.

“You were the one who told me an hour ago to go faster because you have to move all that today.” He waved toward all the boxes. “Give me the t-shirt.”

“First of all, it’s my t-shirt now. Second I do remember you saying you will help me which made me stop protesting.” She hid the t-short behind her back and gave him an innocent smile.

“I will go deal with Crowe, you get dressed.” He said as he was shaking his head obviously giving up on the t-shirt.

Ada left his shirt on the bed, she had to remember to pack it before she left.

“What the hell are you doing? Where did you sleep?” she could hear Crowe interrogating him as she was getting dressed. Ada couldn’t hear what Luche answered but Crowe obviously wasn’t buying it. “I don’t believe you.”

Ada laughed. She knew Crowe wouldn’t just believe the ‘I was too drunk’ story. She knew Ada liked him and she suspect he liked her back so that seemed too much of a coincidence.

Crowe walked in her room without knocking, Luche following after. Ada gave her a very innocent smile, she knew Crowe wasn’t stupid. The other woman closed the door behind herself, the three of them finding themselves in Ada’s bedroom in awkward silence.

“If you hurt her, I will kill you.” Crowe finally said to Luche. “I don’t care why or how, I will end you. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise.”

Before Luche could say anything in his defense Crowe walked out leaving the two of them alone.

“She won’t stab me on the battlefield?” he asked.

“No. She is just worried.” Ada understood how Crowe felt. The two of them have grown very close in the past five months. In a sense Crowe was the big sister she never had and the same way Crowe was taking care of her, she was taking care of Crowe.

#luche lazarus #luche lazarus x OC #crowe altius #kinsglaive #nyx ulrich #libertus ostium #my writing

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a-writing-bear · 5 years

Text

[PruCan] Chapter 9: Soft-Spoken Calling, They Want Their Shyness Back

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997/chapters/42689768

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’ - Ao3 version is formatted, tumblr version is not. Ao3 is recommended.

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Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)

AU: College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert

Age Rating/Mature: Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)

Trigger Warnings: Recreational Drugs & minor connotations of anxiety (Future addiction to mention themes such as addiction, rape etc.) WITHIN THIS CHAPTER - Mentions of Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, Counseling, and anti-depressants. (please note I am NOT anti-meds.) Family Issues are implied, Distance and abandonment suggested.

The world stiffened as strawberry blonde hair covered his tired eyes, Alfred had scooted much farther away as he let his brother gather himself. Racing, pulsing thoughts jumped in his head; everything felt slow and too fast at the same time and the unease of having someone else in this private session was more off-putting than he would have thought.

“I….I didn’t finish the painting.” Ms Paisley’s demure look did not falter, unsurprised but still polite, her scribbles of notes were no doubt some follow up questions about his inability to get something done- he felt foolish for bringing it up, his subconscious already tormenting him about his inadequacy to shush up. His brother, on the other hand, was lost; What does a painting have to do with Matthew’s health?

“What was it this time Matthew? ...noise? … distractions?” her voice trailed on but Alfred’s mind was hooked on her reasoning-

“Not noise this time. I was quite...fine. I was fine- I just can’t get it to look right and I feel…” He mind was smoothened a little bit as he tried to articulate his thoughts. Fiddly hands kept tracing the hemming of his hoodie edges, eyes strictly avoiding his brother’s questioning gaze.

“Lost. I felt like I was detached again. I couldn’t get it right and It’s just so difficult to stay up…” Closed eyes and uncertain breath faded into a hum, he almost forgot Alfred was there as he thought of the image of his childhood. Bright. Vibrant. Utterly simplistic in its approach.

“I’m on top of work. But that just means I sleep more... I'm tired. Very tired. I know I say that a lot but I am. It’s just so-” his voice breaks off into a bit of a laugh as he grimaces at his repetitious mantra, “I’m exhausted, Paisley.” He bites his lips; he’s been trying to get out of the habit of saying tired. The word was so addictingly bittersweet and had glossed over his lips so often that the definition of such a word had practically been imprinted into his personality. Dr Paisley looked up as Alfred patted a hand onto his knee, the gesture making the male almost jump as his eyes popped finally realising his brother was still in the room.

“Well. I’m sure the painting will turn out beautifully- Have you shown anyone your work, has Al-”

“It’s a surprise! It’s...not ready and I don’t want Alfred to be spoilt” The interruption let out another hiccup as Matthew slid his back down the couch, his head almost lolling straight into the couch’s depths.

“Okay. I think you should have some downtime while I Just chat with your brother, would that be possible Matthew?” He slowly got up, feeling ashamed for his messy rambling and eager to leave the room. “John could get you some tea while you wait..” the remnants of that sentence was lost on Matthew as he had already made his way out back into the little room from before.

“Hi Alfred, Long time no see, How have you been?”

“Alright, Uni is exciting as always...can we just get to the reason why I’m here? Matthew-- My brother says you want him on more medication?”

“Yes. He hasn’t been on anything for a while, and he’s made a lot of progress but recently...He’s been having trouble with our recent goals, and I don’t want to worry any of you and your family. From a professional standpoint, I would recommend this as it would help him just balance out his anxiety. He hasn’t been on much for a while now.”

“I trust you doc, but I’m still worried. He’s been kind of...really secretive I guess?

“How so? He’s told me he’s been chatting and unloading a lot on peop-”

“Well, obviously not me. Not..me. We don’t go out anymore, he always liked to sleep in but some days I have to genuinely bash his door down to get him up. It’s...a slump.”

Dr Paisley sighed, a knowing glint in her eye as she listened to the wistful way Alfred talk about his brother- knowing of what?

“Look. Mr Jones, I need to know if you’re planning on any big life changes.” Alfred seized up, caught off guard by the question, almost nervous of his own answer- “It’s just that Matthew right now needs some extra support, we’re assuming he’s just in a bit of a drop right now...he goes through it once…” her voice seemed to trail off as Alfred and his ever calculative brain were in the works of what to say: tell the truth or to wait for a better moment? Surely he could put off telling Matthew of his...no if he told the doctor now he could avoid a confrontation from his family later on…

“-Would moving away count as something big?” the professional paused in her sentence, concern out and open.

“Who would be moving?” Alfred explained his new course offer from some prestigious lab in Japan, the willingness he had to go there and the excitement was clear but the more he explained he had begun thinking of how’ll it affect his brother.

“...we spent enough time apart as kids. Last time really fucked him up and I just don’t...he lost trust in me and that’s okay I just... I- what if this is the thing that really...pushes it?”

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, both deep in thought before the doctor gave her insight: “Your brother will be fine. He wants you to live your life. He just needs time to know what’s going on. He needs to talk more. Do you know anyone he could talk to while you’re away?” There was Tim, their childhood friend of whom Mattie had always been attached to; the Dutchman always came to Matthew’s heed and Mattie always complied with the scarf-wearing weirdo. Alfred drifted, he had that new German guy, right? He never really liked Gilbert, always saw him at some trashy party- he was so different from Matthew, it would be difficult for his brother to open up to someone like that…

“Besides Tim, there’s this new guy. I think Matt would tell you about him. I don’t really trust the guy.” before the doc could synthesise a plan Matthew had knocked on the door rather meekly, sticking that fluff of a hairdo through the door and asking if he could back in.

“Of course. Matthew, your brother and I are okay with our new goals, would you like to go through with it?” the young man barely nodded, still in the doorway, leaning a bit off the frame as his eyes wandered in Alfred’s direction as if still asking if he could come in. Alfred got up, shaking off imaginary dust and he made his way out, ruffling his twin brother’s hair as they swapped places. He’d have time to think about what he wanted to tell him while he waited.

“I’m really sorry we can’t have our full 1 hour Matthew, Is there anything you’d like to talk about in particular today?” Matthew had cosied up on the chair, crossing his legs as he used to as a kid- Dr paisley had reassured him no harm would be done to her soft plush couch even if he brought his foot upon it.

“I’m just tired is all.” he had started picking at the seat fibres once more, his glasses sort of slipping off as he pressed the couch experimentally. “I understand, Alfred said you made a new friend? Wanna chat about that?” At first, Matthew was puzzled, confused as to who she had meant before realising that she probably referred to Gilbert.

“Oh. Gilbert. He’s...cool. I don’t want to talk about him. Do I ha-”

“You don’t have to do anything Matthew. This is about you.”

Matthew relayed his story about going to see Tim (minus the weed of course), how he had overstepped Tim’s boundaries once more by accident, ranting way too long and not getting anything done when he could have been doing something, anything, he never gets things done, why can’t i get things done, it’s impossi-

“Matt- Matthew breathe. Hey, hey slow down. You were taking a break right?” Matthew gulped. He didn’t realise he had been mumbling incessantly again. “I don’t think you overstepped. I’m sure Tim would have said something if you did. He’s been your...friend for a long time.” the blonde nodded, awkward to where this was going.

“Do you...pardon me if this seems inconceivable or rude...do you have feelings for Tim?” Matthew looked at her as if she had slapped him in the face-

“nO! OH Nonono- Tim’s my… he’s just a really...good friend, I couldn’t...I like someone else... I think?” his mind drifted to a pearly white smile and red eyes that really should be more intimidating than attractive. God. Gilbert’s got him good and it’s hardly been a day. He needs to stop. Paisley just smiled that ever kind smile, and it kinda sickened Matthew knowing at the end of the day she was paid to smile like that regardless of what he said to her. The rationale in his head reminded him she was genuine and that this was a good experience- counselling was better than hiding in a room getting high off his rock...that sounds more enjoyable at this point. The two chatted, Matthew once more relearning his breathing, noting to himself to write in his personal log once he gets home to keep the doc and himself on check.

“I’ll see you next Saturday? Afternoon at 1pm. 1 hour for sure Matthew.” with that the two parted, Matthew, worming his way out of the office and straight to the registering counter, prescription form in hand. Alfred had signed it. So had he. He’d have to pick them up tomorrow. Fuck me.

The two twins waddled back out, getting into their car and driving to their little detour: the diner just off campus. “Ahh loving the shoddy lights as usual,” Alfred commented as they got out the car and saw the overdone and tacky 60s light decor falter. Sliding into the opposite sides of a booth, the two sat in silence, obviously avoiding conversing about what was talked about during Matthew’s appointment. Or so Matthew hoped.

“So doc tells me ‘bout a painting.” Liar. Matthew knows Paisley wouldn’t have told him jack shit about that painting. “It’s nothing. It’s a surprise, Al, don’t go sticking your nose into my art and I won't question your phall-” Alfred burst out laughing before Matthew could finish his joke, he supposed seeing his brother laugh did brighten his moods. The waiter, dressed in a stereotypical apron, brought over some coffee (“it’s not Tim Hortons, but it’ll do”) and Alfred waved her off to get some burgers with a ‘thank you doll’ that only resulted in a tut. They talked about Alfred’s course and how his lab work was going, Matthew, in turn, talked about the next hockey season and how’d he hope he would get back on the team after his hiatus. Parents. They talked about their parents- neither of whom had called. Their father, ever the distant soul, last they heard, was back in London sorting out some legal case and hadn’t even texted Alfred the usual monthly check-in text. Matthew grimaced. If he didn’t even text Alfred...then he must still be mad about the two of them going to see mother last summer. The coffee was burnt and bitter, and this dinner was as rugged and worn out as Matthew’s weary soul, yet he couldn’t help feel comforted by the fact his brother was still here and not painstakingly somewhere ignoring him. Matthew hated being ignored.

*DING*

T @ 7:34 [Are you at the Diner? I see an oddly familiar car out here.]

Of course, Tim was here.

M @ 7:34 [Yeah Al’s here though. Just came back from Dr.P’s. Wanna join dinner time?]

T @ 7:36 [I’ve got Laura and Luca with me, I’m sure they’d love to catch up with your bro. Though you wanna chat out back for a bit?]

Matthew paused. Looked away from his phone to see Alfred once more chatting with a waitress, idly stacking up some creamer cups.

M @ 7:38 [Your sister would smell the shit on us. Tell the L duo to come in and I’ll come out.]

T @ 7:39 [I’ve got deo and we can blame it on smokers outside. They’re going.]

“The Van-de-bergs are here. I’m gonna go out just to chat with Tim for a bit. Please don’t hit on Laura again- Tim will murder you and I’ll tell Kiku.” Matthew got up quickly, making his way very quickly as his brother tried responding with a resounding “I’m not that big of a flirt-” Laura and little brother Luca in tow came bursting in, gladly waving at Matt as they made their way to the table.

“Tim says you two need to chat so he’s-”

“Outside.” Matthew pushed his way past them out the door. He’s not usually so dismissive of the kind girl but he wanted to get away from some of the noise for a bit. A smoke really sounded good right then. The air seemed nippy as he stumbled into the evening light. The fuzzy streetlights illuminated the tall figure that was Tim leaning on his car. With a head flick and a motion, the two moved, trekking to a dodgy avoided spot right behind the diner; smoker paradise as cigarette buds were littered across the gravelled area.

“..I’m assuming shit didn’t go well.” Matthew denied answering because he himself didn’t really know. Today went well. He just didn’t feel it.

“Well. Let’s chat then schatje.”

Gilbert had enjoyed Matthew’s empty bedroom for a while. But he found, no matter how charming the walls were and the strewn pieces of art- as captivating as they were, felt strange without Matthew actually being there. He had gotten out, leaving the room as immaculate as it did when he had first gotten in and wondered where the North American brothers had gone. Oh well. His work had occupied him for as long as he needed, and by dinner time he was truly starving. With his, worn out jeans and leather jacket snugly on, and his motorbike keys pocketed he decided he’d go off campus and get some takeaway. The food hall seemed a bit too dull for a Saturday night lunch right? And nothing was better than hunkering down on some takeaway and calling it a night early. With a resounding roar, his bike came to life, driving him down the quiet nighttime roads, running away from the campus that seemed to be riddled with late-night students wandering all over the place.

Unlike Alfred, Gilbert unironically liked the 60s vibe that the diner had possessed. It reminded him of his Grandfather who always liked the middle of nowhere businesses and of Ludwig and his avoidance of less than stellar looking establishments. The food was fantastic too and always made good 24/7 pancakes. Gilbert wouldn’t mind pancakes for dinner, he could get them half price if he sweetened that lady over the counter again. Just as he pulled up, and was busy stowing his helmet away he saw a familiar person walking behind the restaurant- Matthew. Matthew with someone most definitely wasn’t Alfred. I thought he said he was with his brother. Gilbert scolded himself...it’s none of his business. For all he knew Alfred was there too...behind the diner...where cute Matthew was walking with a shady looking tall dude. Yeah, not awesome. Gilbert began walking.

He’s just making sure his new friend Matt was safe. A good samaritan keeping someone safe. Gilbert's inner voice was spouting bullshit.

#prucan #APH Canada #APH Prussia #SoftSpokenCalling #prussia x canada #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #Axis Powers Hetalia #Hetalia Fanfiction #hetalia fanfics #hetalia fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #Multichapter

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a-writing-bear · 6 years

Text

[PruCan] Chapter 4: Soft-Spoken Calling, They Want Their Shyness Back

Ao3 Link:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997/chapters/24905436

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

Previous Chapter

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)

AU: College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert

Age Rating/Mature: Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)

Trigger Warnings: Recreational Drugs & minor connotations of anxiety (Future addiction to mention themes such as addiction, rape etc.)

Within his short 18 years of his life, Gilbert knew he fell short of a lot of things. Most of the time the list of his personal struggles were propelled far away from the contemptuous moments of strife that he was forced to worry about currently so in turn of all that he wasn’t used to being open to his subconscious pacing mind. All the repressed trouble he cooked up was bubbling over- much like Arthur’s attempt of ‘soup’ from last week. Whenever he seemed to not be distracted by a family issue presented by his brother, it was coursework that acted as blockade from having a social life, or sometimes the extremities faced when dealing with pesters from Elizabeta and Roderich (Only God knows what those two would be doing on a weekend...); even the occasional whining from a certain Frenchman.

A chime of a small bell over the café’s door announced his presence to the other inhabitants. The oaky smell of old counters flooded his senses and the light yellow walls plastered with generic atmospheric photos of Himaruya Academy’s campus populated some of the emptier spaces (You could tell these were taken by students as well, what with the tiny label under each photo). Aromatic aromas of freshly brewed coffee and whiffs of alluring chai lattes made Gilbert smile warmly, it was if he had been hugged by comfort itself. You would think a café would be empty at around 10 pm, but it seems like the need for caffeine for any student was a constant. The distance between his dorm hall and the small campus café was luckily close, a breeze of a stroll that delighted any exhausted student, thus his tardiness in his arrival was actually inexcusable. He mulled over trying to produce an excuse to give later to explain his delay… Of course, his overall excitement was at an all-time low considering Gilbert would have to deal with an infuriated Ludwig-

“Seriously Gil? You’re late 20 minutes”

Speaking of the organised stick-in-the-mud devil, his younger brother (Who, unfairly, had grown taller than the paler of the two) was eyeing him with annoyance and the albino could practically feel the dagger-like stares pushing into his chest. A cockier-than-usual ‘I’m more organised than you and you know it' looks of disapproval caught him off guard… Oh god is he going to say something about the new shir-

“Mein Gott, How the hell are you funding your wardrobe when you can’t even pay me back?”

“Lovely to see you too dear West, I’m doing fine, Gee thanks! How thoughtful for you to ask.”

Sarcasm and mock pleasure rolled off his tongue easily and with a sublime sense of satisfaction. But as he went to sit down at the small table he noticed the change in mood. facing diligently and apprehensively at the stern look of his brother he realised that his obvious joke will not go without consequence…clearly, Ludwig had something serious this time and the call for the older sibling was not an act of choice but instead an act of necessity. Gilbert gulped. Fidgeting slightly, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, the blue-eyed sibling attempted to keep his voice lower than usual and to keep the conversation at a seemingly okay level of panic:

“We can’t exactly quit our jobs this holiday, and my calculations state that we might even have to pick up an extra shift. There is no way we can visit Uncle this year.”

Gilbert flinched and could swear he felt his heart break a little. To others the news may not seem to be ‘that serious’ – sure it was bad but being heartbroken was an over exaggeration right? Consider the fact you had been working your FUCKING ass off your whole life, juggling multiple jobs while studying with a crappy stream of income and pay check-to-pay check funding, being robbed of countless hours of personal time that in your eyes were a privilege, never a minimum, and last but not least the breakdowns when you realised you felt so alone. This news would make your heart shatter like fragile glass. ‘Fuck karma, Lady Luck couldn’t give him a day off,’ It seemed like dog days would never be chased off. Unbelievable. Inconceivably pissed off. Flipping the table, walking out and burying himself in the nearest graveyard felt like a reasonable move as of right now.

“What. The. FUCK.”

“Calm down we can handl-“

“I can’t!- There has to be some miscalculation, last I checked we had enough for that break, I was given time off and a pay raise! This shouldn’t- What-WHY? I PRACTICALLY DIED.”

“Look I get it- I’m not happy either?! But shouting won’t do us any help either!”

He was fuming and he could see the fury shining in his company’s eyes as well. Growing up Gilbert always hid his vents and rants and kept his true thoughts away from the impressionable mind of his sibling but at times like this, it was clear what they were both thinking. Ludwig must have known this news hit his brother harder than it would him, and those awkward compassionate pats were a pitiful attempt at family comfort. They never really used affectionate gestures in the past, there was never any time for stuff like that.

Years and years, harking as far back as the tender age of 14, he could recall working for an extra bit of pocket money. Pocket money soon evolved into a college fund for himself and West within 2 years. Not to mention the small amounts he had to save for indulging to keep the sanity that prevented him from turning into an emotionless working robot. Thankful was not a strong enough word to describe what Gilbert felt for his uncle, there wasn’t any word that could achieve the level of gratitude the boy held for the old man. Respect towards the old man was something he taught Ludwig early on (Come to think of it, they moved in with their Uncle when Ludwig was only...12?), even if the latter didn’t understand their situation at that very young age. Spaced out due to the reminiscing he hadn’t noticed the warm cup of coffee that had been kindly delivered to him (Yes, a nice cup of coffee at 10 pm, go college life!), Ludwig’s strong voice started to come back to the forefront of his attention;

“You take your rest, you deserved the break, Bruder. I can do an extra shift- Feli says his shift has an extra slot anyway that I can take and it’s not very long, we just need to rearrange the bank allocations…” The blonder German was droning on and was in actual fact, talking to himself more than he was meaning to actually converse with the other.

Sighing into his now slightly cold coffee, the teen pondered over his choices and reviewed his recent schedules: wake up, eat, Attend lectures, go to multiple work shifts throughout the day during his study hours, do some coursework till the morning light and pass out, repeat. He had started slacking this continues the cycle of college-life torture. He had finally worked enough to wager a good break that his boss from his large shift (A shitty – but hey it’s decent? – 7 bucks an hour) at the local cinema, an undesirable night shift that no one wanted to partake when they could be partying. Only this month had he been throwing away his frazzled mind with hook-ups and well-deserved parties with his former Misfits. He had ached for those nights again, and for a short while, he had them back. What was the point of being a ‘creative’ mind when you can’t produce any of the garbage you actually want to?! Being stuck in the mantra of: “How many tickets sir? Which seat..? Hope you enjoy the show!” was the cause of the internal bomb of irritation that ticked faster and faster and Gilbert wasn’t even sure he would have any fuse left soon.

I’ve got to go. Was it ever possible to become unattached to reality? God I wish, with haste Gilbert suddenly got up and bolted out with mutters of incomprehensible frustration.

“Gilbe-Where are you goi-Hey we aren’t” the protests over his disappearance faded into the background as Gilbert left to walk back to his room. He could really do with some music.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE LIVES NEXT DOOR?! HAS HE HURT YOU? OH MY GOD”

Matthew lamented over his wasted time, the paint covered boy had nestled down on his bed with his ruffled hair and head thrown back onto the cushy red covers, He could be actually painting right now…or y’know…seeing Tim for a drug hit. Eyes shut with another exhale of boredom as Alfred rambled on, shooting an overdose of “He’s the bad kind, he’s not good, and he could be a murderer” lecture into the strawberry blonde’s tired ears. You would think a prodigy with a near IQ of 160 would be able to identify a real threat.

Sometimes he really just wanted to forget about this.

“I don’t think we are even thinking of the same person Al” blurting out quietly, still trying to zone out from his brother’s incessant fussing. “Have you even met him?”

“I don’t neeeed to meet him. I KNOW he’s bad for you, I don’t want him touching and getting all up in my little brother’s space and…poisoning him with all the college nonsense.”

Bullshit, poison what? I already drink and take- Ahh that’s right he doesn’t know about the ‘college nonsense’ I actually do participate in. Woops.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, hell you’re starting to sound old like Artie”

“I am not-I am NOT like Artie! Why the sudden interest in this Gilbert GUY ANYWAY??” This had dragged on for an hour and Matthew needed to make a dash for Tim’s house if he wanted to get done in time to come back reasonably sober.

“Don’t you have some project to do Alfie? It’s getting late and I want to do some work-Besides wouldn’t you want to call Kiku~” 1 point to Matthew, He had gotten his brother to look off in revelation and gain some red tinge on the cheeks. Kiku, a Japanese student who his American sibling had met and been pining for, was located at Himaruya Academy’s Tokyo campus (Mostly shortlisted to ‘The Deen Campus’ after its association). The two had been introduced during their foundation year and it was clear his sibling had a very big soft spot for the guy, so much so after the Japanese student transferred back to Japan they kept in touch with long Skype calls and endless texts. They, to quote: “Are n-not dating!! Kiku’s Not even interested…in guys…..or me.”

Hurriedly and trying to look less embarrassed, Alfred scuttled out. ‘Finally’. A glance at his watch told Matthew he would need to leave now or else Tim will call him out for bailing- ‘I am not gonna lose this cus of Al goddammit’ – Grabbing his trademark and overused hoodie, the stocky 18 year old climbed out of the way too small dorm window. Armed with his phone and car keys, he clambered into the cramped car and drove steadily down out the campus to his friend’s rented house; a typical scene for bad cliché college parties – happily it was not time for any party. As idiotic as it may seem, Strolling through the front door would not be a good idea as his childhood friend always warned him his sister would not appreciate visitors at this time (Matthew was 100% Laura didn’t even know Tim did pot, nonetheless that he did pot WITH Mattie), so he took the safer route (‘Well, physically more dangerous’) and climbed onto a small balcony on the side of the house, softly knocking on the glass that had the curtains drawn-

“You’re late.” Looking up to face his taller companion, the Canadian heard the gruff voice of annoyance as he pulled back the curtains and the sliding glass door opened.

“Sorry T, Al got me caught up in some bullshit, the hoser kept me busy…” The scarfed house owner moved aside and silently invited him into the messy room. On closer inspection, messy would not be applicable – while the floor was covered in some clothes, questionable (?) magazines and beanbags, the dark blue walls hoisted clean neat shelves which held a multitude of knickknacks.

“..You know you could’ve gotten started without me?

“Hah. Yeah right, where’s the fun in that Mattie?” A small tired-sounding chuckle flowed from the taller of the two, a bong had been passed towards Matthew who had founded himself cosy in a familiar beanbag. The haze felt good already. Matthew took it eagerly and grumbled: “How much do I owe you?”

“Honestly…Too much. Hah, No but like come on Mattie, I thought we got over this already. I’m not gonna charge a friend for this stuff. Especially not you.” Grinning with humour the Dutchman took the beanbag opposite to him.

It was all very strange at the beginning of this whole ordeal with his Dutch friend. They had grown up together and Matthew had very good relations with the ‘Van-der-Berg’ family. After joining the Academy he was glad he at least had a recognisable older pal but throughout all of the years that had gone by knowing him, he always noticed the precise and businessman-like nature of this man. Yet when he offered to help Matthew get his usual weed (Something Matt had easier access to in Canada and the times he visited the Netherlands and definitely something you don’t shout about) he didn’t charge a single penny. Hell, this fucker had once charged him after Matthew dragged them to the bathroom at camp…when they were 12 YEARS OLD. This guy always needed wanted to make a dime. Except for drugs. Which…was insanely strange AND expensive. ‘Especially not me? Ah Tim, I still really don’t know you.’ He tried not to think about it so much as when there was sweet dreamy smoke being smothered and pushed into Matthew’s body.

Sometimes it is possible to forget about things, you just need the right stuff.

#prucan #aph canada #aph prussia #SoftSpokenCalling #prussia x canada #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #Hetalia Fanfiction #fanfic #multific #college au #alternate universe

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