#I don’t have a fever anymore though and I am actually able to sleep a few hours every night

[bothsidesnow2000]

Been sick for a week now and I feel the exact same 🤧🤒

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN11 Extra Story Translation (Part 4)

I have started translating the extra story which comes with the special edition of volume 11 of the Hamefura light novel.

I posted some notes about it a while ago.

This part is about Alan’s POV of his childhood.

Previous parts: Part 1    Part 2     Part 3

~The Story of the 4 Stuart Brothers~ (Part 4)

Alan’s POV

When I woke up, I could see the usual ceiling. But it was awfully distorted. Aah, again.

Maid: Master Alan, are you okay?

…the servant asked, worryingly peering into my bed. I replied…

Alan: …I… am… o…

"I am okay". This was what I was trying to say, but my voice wouldn't come out well. Seeing me like this, the servant left in a hurry to get some medicine. I couldn't really move my body because it felt heavy, and my vision looked distorted. This feeling… I probably had a high fever. Even though I had been feeling a little better for a while, even though I had been able to stay up longer during the daytime… I was now back to bed again. And I also started to feel sad that it had happened today of all days. Today was my and my older twin brother's birthday. Because I had been feeling well lately, Mother, my older twin brother Geordo and I had planned to celebrate our birthday together today. I had heard that, unlike me, my older twin brother Geordo was healthy. I had mostly never talked to him because I had been laid up in this room the whole time, but I had heard that he was very talented and splendid. And I had been looking forward to meeting him and asking him about the outside world today…  But with this fever, it didn't seem like I would be able to join the party. Aaah… Why was my body like this…? I was sick and tired of sleeping in my room all day. I wanted to go outside and play like Geordo. Because I felt sad and bitter, my distorted vision became even more distorted.

After my fifth birthday, my health had gradually settled down. I had been laid up the whole time till now, and as a result, I had spent nearly no time on my studies. So for my sake, brilliant teachers had been assigned to me. There was a lot of studying, but the lessons were really fun because I could learn things that I didn't know about until now. However, one time, when I was walking to my teacher's place with my textbook in hand to ask him a question about the lesson, I heard this.

Man A: Hey, it's that rumored fourth prince. Look at the textbook he's holding.

Man B: Uwaah! He's using such a basic textbook at that age! I can't believe it!

Man A: Yeah, the difference is just awful compared to the other princes. And Prince Geordo, who is the same age, seems to have already completed the application part. Poor guy.

They were certainly talking about me. I felt the blood suddenly draining from my body. It was the first time that someone had talked like that about me. As I had been sleeping in my room all this time because of my poor health, there had been no one by my side but my mother, and the servants who had been taking care of me since birth. They had always worried about me. As I had never been hit with such malicious looks and words before, I was terribly shaken.

"Such a basic textbook".

I knew very well that I was behind in my studies. But my mother and the servants had told me that it couldn't be helped. So I hadn't thought about it too deeply.

"Poor guy".

These words remained as if they had been stuck to my ears. I didn't feel like going to my teacher's anymore, and I returned to my room, like I was running away. Right after I had returned to my room, the servants noticed that I looked strange and asked me what had happened, but I couldn't bring myself to talk about it. They always worried about me, so I knew that they would try to comfort me by telling me "Don't worry, this is not true". But right now, I felt like these words of comfort would actually hurt me. Because I couldn't help thinking that they might only say them out of pity, because they also felt sorry for me.

After that, since I had now started paying attention to them, these voices steadily entered my ears. "The Good-for-Nothing Prince" "The Deadweight Prince" Because I needed to wipe out these voices, I threw my whole being into my studies and my sword training. I had wanted to talk a lot with my older twin brother once I would get better, and also run outside and play to my heart's content, but I didn't have the leisure to do such things. Anyway, if I didn't go at my studies and training frantically, I wouldn't be able to fill the gap that I had accumulated until now. With this thought, I strived for it as if my life had depended on it.

It might have bore some fruit as, after several years, I had caught up to the other children of my age. I had become so brilliant that all the teachers praised my splendid results. I had had a late start because of my poor health, but after several years, I had been able to catch up to the other children. I was brilliant. 

And like this, I was getting up to speed. I was conceited, thinking I was amazing.

Still… One day, I noticed that my older twin brother Geordo could do anything better than me, and that the things that I was struggling to do, he would do them quickly with an unconcerned face. I had been making so much effort without sparing any time to sleep. I had become so brilliant that the teachers now praised my splendid results. In spite of this, I couldn't compare to Geordo at all. My nose, which had been high in the air, crashed down in an instant.

Then, I took some distance from Geordo. Well, we mostly had no contact to begin with, but… After I had gotten conscious of it, I still started to avoid him. Because I couldn't bear to be compared to Geordo, whom I could never reach no matter what effort I put in. In spite of this…

Man A: Prince Alan is so mediocre no matter what he does.

Man B: He has been laid up for so long because of his poor health, so it can't be helped.

Man A: Even so, despite them being twins, there's so much difference between him and Prince Geordo. I feel for him.

Man B: There sure is. Prince Geordo might have taken all the good things while in the womb.

Man A: Ha ha! So that would make him the dregs after all the good things were taken!

Man B: Whoa, whoa! That's harsh!

After I had stumbled on this conversation, my vision went completely dark. "The pathetic prince who is lagging behind children of the same age". I had been able to wipe out these words after piling up my efforts. Still… No matter what effort I put in, I couldn't wipe out "The prince who is far inferior to Prince Geordo". I was overwhelmed by these malicious words whispered to me, and before I knew it, I had become filled with an inferiority complex towards Geordo.

I felt irritated just by hearing Geordo's name, and I felt annoyed just by seeing his face. I didn't want to let it get to me, I didn't want to know about Geordo, but the more I thought about it, the more the talks about Geordo would enter my ears. I had become sensitive to his existence. And yet, unlike me, Geordo didn't seem concerned about my existence at all, which stirred up my feelings even more.

While I was spending such days, my eldest brother Jeffrey started to show up at my place little by little. I was the youngest of us four brothers, but I had nearly had no contact with my other brothers. I had of course not seen them during the period when I was constantly laid up, but also after I had been able to get out of my room. I had been desperate to catch up with the lost time then, so I hadn't really gone to meet them. Since they hadn't come to see me either, I had figured that my brilliant older brothers probably had no interest in their incompetent younger brother after all this time. Even so, why would he suddenly come now?  It was a mystery.

The first time I had met him, I didn't know who he was, and…

Alan: Hey you, who are you?

…I asked him. Jeffrey opened his eyes a little wide, and…

Jeffrey: I am Jeffrey Stuart. Your eldest brother. I am sorry for not coming to see you during all this time.

…he said while showing a little embarrassed face. Now that he had said it, when I took a really, really good look at him, his face was indeed similar to Geordo's, and the color of his hair and eyes were the same as mine. I found it suspicious that he would suddenly come to me even though he had never tried to have any contact with me during all these years, so…

Alan: And so? What's your business with me?

…I asked in an overbearing way, but that guy didn't mind my attitude, and…

Jeffrey: I have come to see you, Alan.

…he replied, smiling.

Alan: And I am asking why you came to see me.

I was a little irritated, but while still smiling, Jeffrey…

Jeffrey: Do I need a reason to come see my brothers? I wanted to see you, so I came.

…he said.

After this encounter, Jeffrey would repeatedly come to my place. Doing so, he would keep asking about touchy things, like my now completely recovered health, or how I was getting along with Geordo. That guy was probably coming here to make fun of his incompetent younger brother. It was extremely unpleasant. I treated Jeffrey harshly each time he came, but he still returned as usual without looking even a little upset about it.

Before long, I had become eight, Geordo had become engaged, and I had also gotten a fiancée. A sweet girl called Mary Hunt. After interacting with her, I encountered that mysterious noble daughter called Katarina Claes. She climbed trees, and she fished too. Katarina wasn't like the average noble daughter. For me who had never played anything like a game before, my interactions with Katarina were new and fun. Before I knew it, I would excitedly come and go to Katarina's home. And then, I finally encountered Geordo there.

At first, I was terribly distressed. I might have been terrified of this person called Geordo. But he was the Geordo that I had come to know through Katarina. She had made me realize that I had only known him through hearsays and that I hadn't taken a good look at who Geordo really was. That, while I had been lamenting over Geordo not deigning to look at me, I hadn't properly looked at him either. That people had different aptitudes, and that Geordo too, had things that he was good with, and things that he was bad with. That there was no such thing as a perfect human being. These were what Katarina had taught me. Though, it might not have been her intention at all to teach me that.

And then, the things around me that I had never tried to properly look at because I had been stuck on my views, they were not as I had imagined. The people who had been speaking ill about me had only been some people in my older brothers' factions. The teachers and the whole servants staff had never spoken ill about me. I had just been frightened and pained by the delusions that I had created myself.

To begin with, Geordo was way more human than I had imagined. I could see that after I had started going to the Claes household with him and spending lots of time together. Before, I couldn't tell what he was thinking because he only made artificial-looking smiles, but his thoughts had unexpectedly been showing on his face many times. Especially, when it came to Katarina, I could see his smile freeze out of shock, or see him covering his face and shaking his shoulders, probably trying to hold back a burst of laughter. And whenever I had a farming contest with Katarina, Geordo would join in and go at it with all his might. He also had a childish side. It had made me realize that my image of Geordo until now really had just been a wrong impression.

And also my eldest brother Jeffrey. I had been hating him because I had thought that he was coming to make fun of me, but my way of seeing him had also changed. My eldest brother had just been worried about my health and my tense relationship with Geordo. Because I had been completely overwhelmed by my negative assumptions, I had arbitrarily thought of him as a bad person.

And the other day, when I returned to my room after talking to Geordo, that same Jeffrey called out to me with a smile.

Jeffrey: So you get along with Geordo now!

After my eldest brother had said this, his face had taken on an expression of relief.

Alan: Yeah, kind of. Thanks for worrying about me till now.

After I had said this in reply, Jeffrey looked at me blankly, and then suddenly started to ruffle my hair. Wh-What's with him?! He seemed to be treating me like a brat. It annoyed me a little, but when I looked up at his face, there was such a happy smile on it, so I held back any protest and left it at that.

Afterwards, whenever Jeffey came over, I would casually spend time with him to make him happy. But because he was set on treating me like a brat, it was a little troublesome.

[maijobi]

thank you

gojo x reader

summary: gojo breaking down make me go brrrrr

a/n: hello hello, I havent been active here due to my exams but I’m finally done!!! I’m not so proud of this work but I most definitely don’t hate it, plus this was more of a ‘I need to get back to writing’ type of comeback. enjoy!

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you were waiting for gojo to arrive. it had been exactly two hours after you two had planned a date night at home and he still wasn’t here. you knew about his busy schedule, so you didn’t take it personal and didn’t think that he’d try to avoid a date night with you. especially these days. he was tired, you could tell. he was exhausted. every day that he’d come home he’d just slump on the bed and sleep straight till the morning without having had dinner. 

you were worried about him, but every time you tried to have that conversation with him, he’d find a way to evade anything that was related to that. you knew he was just bad at expressing his emotions, but you did your best to get something out of him even though you failed every time.

even though both of you had the same job, he was the stronger one. meaning everything from the higher ups fell onto him. he was running errands in their place because they were just too weak to handle it without him, or rather lazy was the word gojo liked to used.

the higher ups were rather cruel people. they didn’t care about Gojo’s mental health and because they knew he didn’t like to show weakness they took advantage of that. knowing that he’ll take any job given to him, just to show how strong and dependable he was. but a big burden came along with that. he’d be gone for days without having slept properly and then he’d come home and he’d be knocked out for the next three days. 

it was hard on him, but he still kept doing his best. 

you could tell he was exhausted because of the bags under his eyes, because of the way he drags his feet over the ground instead of jumping and hopping like he used to do. or the way he talked, the enthusiasm and sarcastic vibes were as good a nowhere to be seen. the way he can’t keep his eyes open when he gets home. for example when you two are watching a movie and you lay on his lap, you could see him trying his best to keep his eyes open but failing after too many attempts. you were sad, because not only was your precious time with him taken away from you, he looked visibly tired. it felt like any moment he could break down.

you were sat at the table that was fully ready for a romantic date night, but the only thing missing was the date himself. you were getting worried. he’d usually text you an hour at which he’d come home, but this time had you left wondering what might have happened because he didn’t text you anything. you didn’t want to think too much about it so with a text with “text me when you’re on your way home” sent to him, you tried to calm yourself down.

after only a few minutes of having sent that text, the door was opened. you sprinted to the door and saw Gojo barely able to hold himself up. without having to think twice you ran to him and slid arm over your shoulders for support. “satoru!”

his full body weight fell on you and you tried your best to hold the 1m90 tall man without making the both of you fall down. “satoru, what happened?!”

you helped him take off his shoes and immediately brought him to the bedroom. his breathing was uneven, but when you looked for a wound there were none to see. he was conscious, but just too weak to answer you. you stripped him from his uniform and left him in his shirt and boxers, giving him all the air he should get. “satoru give me one second”, you worriedly said as you ran to the bathroom and wet a towel. you ran back to him and put the towel on his forehead after feeling a fever come up. 

not knowing what exactly to do you kinda panicked, but you had to stay calm for him. you stood up, wanting to bring him a glass of water when suddenly his hands were on yours. you stopped your movements and turned around. his face was flushed red, probably because of the fever, but his eyes were still closed.

he opened his eyes and slowly rose from his laying position to a sitting one. he pulled you down so that you were sitting next to him. you weren’t sure what was happening or if he was even aware of the things he was doing now, but you let it all happen because maybe this all was what he really needed.

he looked you in the eyes, his being droopy and sad. his eyes were watery, but no tear dropped. he placed a hand each on both of your hands and slowly pulled you in for a hug. he allowed himself to be hugged, to be more precise. guiding your hands to his shoulders and then snaking his own around your waist as dropped his head in the crook of your neck.

after a deep inhale he finally broke down. not the type where people scream, but the type where they catch for breath and the type where they bite down on something to hold it in. he didn’t want to hurt you, but that was all he could do in order to not scream, even though you wanted him to. your hands rubbed his back and you knew immediately that he was just worn out. he had trouble keeping himself upright and he really just did his best until he couldn’t hold it anymore.

he didn’t expect you to say anything, and you didn’t. not only because you wanted to give him the rest he needed, but also because you just weren’t sure how to properly deal with this situation. but he didn’t care. all he needed was you by his side. you just had to be there, nothing more. 

you stayed like that for a while until he pulled you down on the bed with him. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you close to him and was breathing in your scent. you weren’t sure if he had actually stopped crying, but he held you so firmly, yet so soft that you weren’t able to really look up to see his facial expression. 

you draped your arm over his torso and he tightened his grip on you. “I'm sorry for ruining our date night again”, he said in a whisper after a silent 20 minutes.

“don’t worry about that, I'm actually more worried about you”, you said while looking up to him. 

“you don’t have to”, he said while showing a weak smile.

he still had some tears around his eyes so you brought your hands up and wiped them away, caressing those places where there had been tears. “you don’t have to take every job they offer you just to show how strong you are. they know damn well how strong you are and are just making use of it.”

“I know”, he said slowly. “I just don’t want to disappoint my students.”

you thought for a second and tried your best to flick his forehead. it wasn’t painful, but it definitely left a red spot on his forehead. “your students look up to you no matter what. you not taking a job for your own well being will show them that it’s okay to take breaks or to not always be in good shape. they adore you and I'm sure that even if you don’t take certain jobs they will still do.”

he was silent for a moment, as if he was thinking. then he kissed the top of your head, breathing in at the same time. “thank you for always being there for me. thank you for keeping up with me and thank you for accepting me the way that I am.” as if that small speech wasn’t enough, he tightened his grip even more on you to show just how much he wants you by his side and just how much he is scared of losing you. so for return, you did the same thing. you wrapped your arms around his waist and tightened your grip on him. 

that’s how you fell asleep. and that's how you fell asleep every night. because he discovered that your touch and your scent was the one thing that would keep him at ease.

[spxllcxstxr]

Always With Me • R.L

Summary: “Please don’t go.” (Bolded)

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating/not being able to eat, brief mention of vomit, Remus is very close to the full moon so he’s snippy, underage smoking, yelling, Remus is insecure and hard on himself, depressing thoughts

Word Count: ~1k

A.N: I actually wrote this like a year ago, but I’ve recently tweaked it and all that. Listened to Tiny Dancer by Elton John while thinking up the title. I guess this is my first angst post too, so I hope it’s angsty enough! Some characters may be a bit ooc though

Title: Elton John - Tiny Dancer

****

The week of the full moon takes a lot out of Remus, especially when added to the increasing amount of assignments the professors start handing out. The stress practically kills him.

He’s stuck in bed three days before the full moon, and will likely stay there until after the transformation.

Remus looks sickly, laying in his bed. His skin is pale and dotted with sweat like he’s got a fever. The numerous scars that litter his body look rougher and inflamed. His hair looks like it’s thinned overnight, and you can see strands scattered over his pillow. It’s wirey and delicate to the touch when you run your fingers through it.

“You need to eat, darling.” You mutter, trying to convince him.

The plate of plain toast and orange slices you brought up from the Kitchens sits untouched on his nightstand.

“Love, I won’t be able to hold it down.” He croaks, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands.

“Well you can’t just starve yourself for three more days, Rem.” You lecture, watching him puff out rings of smoke.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? I just don’t feel like vomiting it all up!” Remus snaps, ripping his gaze from you, deciding to focus on the ceiling instead.

The bags underneath his eyes are heavier and darker than usual.

You sigh and lay down next to him, resting your head on his chest. “I’m sorry, Rem. You know I just worry.”

The thumping of his heart is dull and every breath comes out in a labored wheeze.

“I’ll try to eat later, ok?” He murmurs eventually, still focusing on the thin wisps of smoke.

You hum in response and rub your thumb across his chest, partially trying to ease his anxiety and partially to ease yours.

“Don’t you have class?” Remus questions.

“Don’t you?” You counter.

He huffs out a faint laugh. “Don’t get smart with me, love.”

You bury your cheek deeper into his shirt.

“I’m fine missing one Arithmancy class, darling. Especially for you.” You shrug.

Remus grunts in response, snubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. The movement has his bones creaking, and his teeth grinding together in pain.

You kiss his cheek. “Try to get some sleep, alright?”

He nods, his eyes already closing due to pure exhaustion.

You stay with him until the end of the period, but you do have to go to class eventually. You write him a note and make your way to Potions.

Lily catches up to you on your way to the dungeons.

“(Y/n)!” She calls, her fiery braid flowing behind her.

You slow to a stop and let her catch up to you.

“How was Arithmancy?” You ask.

“Just some more number charts. I’ll lend you my notes.” She shrugs.

“Thank Merlin for you, Lils. You’re a life saver.”

Lily finally grabs your arm and drags you into an empty classroom. She closes the door behind you.

“Lily, what’s up—?”

“What’s up with Remus?” She cuts you off. Her green eyes search your eyes for answers.

“What‘re you talking about?” You scoff, nervously. Your fingers twitch out of habit.

“Cut the shit, (Y/n). I’ve noticed it for years now.” Lily crosses her arms in annoyance. “He’s my friend too. You think I haven’t noticed how sick he gets, especially during the full moon? And how all of you disappear in the middle of the night?”

“Lily—“

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“You’re not stupid—“

“Is he a werewolf?” She whispers harshly.

You pause and bite your lip. You could just deny it, but she’s already completely figured it out. You start wringing your hands, wishing you could take out a cigarette right there in the middle of the castle.

“It isn’t my place to say.” You finally sigh, dodging the question.

“It’s a yes or no question.” She argues.

“It’s not!” You exclaim. You then get close enough to whisper in her ear. “Ask him about it next week, yeah?”

Her green eyes are wide and staring at you when you finally pull back.

You swallow harshly, guilt pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

“Let’s drop it and get to Sluggy’s class.” You walk out of the empty classroom, and walk briskly to the potions room.

You stomp up to the boys dorm after Ancient Runes, your last class of the day. The rest of them are already in their room, James, Sirius, and Peter already back from Divination, and Remus not moving from the morning. At least the orange slices are gone. However, that doesn’t mean he kept them down.

“Lily knows.” You announce, dropping your bag at the end of Remus’ bed and taking out a cigarette.

Sirius, who already has one lit, snaps his head towards you. “Lily knows a lot of things, so you gotta be a little more specific.”

“She knows about Moony’s furry little problem.” You clarify, biting your lip.

“She what?!” Remus cries, finally sitting up against the headboard.

“I didn’t tell her, Remus. She figured it out herself and asked me about it!” You hold your hands up in surrender.

“Well shit, (Y/n). What’d you say?” Peter asks, picking at his blanket.

“I just told her to ask him about it next week.” You mutter, anxiously awaiting Remus to explode out of anger.

“Oh that’s just bloody brilliant, innit?” Your boyfriend spats at you, teeth clenched.

“Hey! Don’t yell at her, it’s not her fault!” James shouts, coming to your defense.

“Moony, she was bound to find out eventually, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Sirius comments, picking at his black nail polish, successfully chipping the paint.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“No.” You reply, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Yes.” Sirius says at the same time, effectively provoking it.

“Lily can report me and spread this, don’t you understand?” Remus rages, the tips of his ears red.

“Lily wouldn’t do that, you know this Remus.” James tries to reason.

“I think you’re a little biased, Prongs. She was bloody friends with Snivellus! Anything could happen!”

“Well she isn’t friends with him anymore, Moons. Lily is trustworthy and a good friend. She wouldn’t tell a soul.” James argues.

Remus growls and forcefully closes the curtains around his bed, shutting you all out.

You shift awkwardly on the balls of your feet, the four of you watching the scarlet curtains sway. Remus is silent behind them.

The guilt has your stomach in knots. You can’t help but feel responsible.

“C’mon, (Y/n), it’s time for dinner and obviously Moony wants to be left alone.” James anxiously runs a hand through his already chaotic hair, slightly tugging at the dark curls.

You wordlessly nod your head and start to follow them out the door.

“W-we’ll bring something up from the Kitchens, Remus.” Peter stutters in front of you.

However, you hesitate at the threshold, reluctant to just up and leave your boyfriend in such a vulnerable state.

“Please don’t go.”

The broken words are almost too faint to actually hear.

You creep your way back to his bed, carefully pulling back the curtains revealing your boyfriend’s head buried in his hands. You notice the pronounced tremors taking over his hands.

“Hey...hey Rem, it’s all alright.” You murmur, lightly dragging a hand through his rough hair.

Dropping your head down to his, you press your foreheads together, whispering reassurances and declarations of love into his ear.

[koulakoukoula2003]

Terror (Levi x Reader)

Pairing: Levi x Reader, Levi x You, Levi x OC

Genre: loooots of fluff, and looooots of angst. Like SOOO MUCH ✨ ANGST✨, mention of violence.

Summary: You gave it your best. You fought with everything you had, but you were alone. You had to watch the Mike Squad whilst the titans tore them apart and you were the only one left to protect the scared recruits of the 104th that were cornered in Utgard Castle.

But from the moment word went out that titans had breached Wall Rose, Levi mounted his horse and set out to find you. He could not lose you. You were the only one that he had left. He found you wounded and against all odds, he rushes you back to a hospital in Trost. He can't lose you. He won't allow it.

POV: 3rd Person's POV (cuz 2nd Person is killing me y'all, sorry 😩)

Enjoyyyy!! 🥰

His horse was going fast. One hand was tight around her, pressing her body protectively against his own, and the other hand was holding the reins of his horse. Both of Levi’s hands were still holding his swords. He had already wiped out a couple of titans on his way back to Trost, but he didn’t let those bastards take any more than a few seconds of his time. (Y/n)’s time.

Her back was pressed against his chest. Her head had rolled back tiredly against his shoulder. He had wrapped his green cloak around her that should be enough to keep her warm. He did not mind the violent wind as it crushed against his body while riding fast on horseback. She needed it more than him.

Her eyes were closed. He had tried his best not to let her fall asleep. If she’d lose consciousness, then she wasn’t going to come back. How could he let this happen? Watching her wounded like that felt like a dagger stabbing mercilessly through his flesh. Her eyelids were barely open. Her hands were shaking and her breathing, heavy. It was getting slower and slower by the time. She was mumbling incomprehensible words as if she was having hallucinations. She was warm. She was probably having a fever.

“Don’t die on me,” Levi growled in her ear. “You will not die on me, (y/n),” His hand tightened around her, and in the end, he realised, he was just trying to convince himself that he wasn’t going to lose her.

He couldn’t lose her. Not like he had lost all the others. People in his life would just keep dying and leaving him alone in his misery. But he found that he was never alone and miserable because she was there. (Y/n) had always been there and she had never left. It was funny to think of how many times those past years he had tried to get rid of her, just to give it his all now to keep her with him. He could not imagine life without her.

Not without those hugs that she’d give him whenever he’d need them the most -and he never even had to ask. She just knew. Not without those terrible jokes of hers -that no one would laugh at but her and Hange- and those sassy remarks that always aimed to get on his nerves. Most times he’d only act annoyed just to give her what she wanted. And even those times that he’d pass out by his office from the exhaustion and the pressure, he’d wake up the other day covered in a blanket that she had undoubtedly brought for him.

All those years she had been there. He couldn’t lose her now. If he lost her, he’d never be able to tell her… He’d never be able to hold her in the nights. Nor listen to her stupid jokes, and her sweet laughter, and look upon that reassuring, comforting smile that she’d give him whenever he’d cup her face. He couldn’t even begin to think of what she had gone through that entire night. How many people she had watched die, and in how much pain she must have been right now.

She would be having nightmares for tonight, and for all the nights to come, but he’d hold her. He’d hold her every single night if it meant he’d be able to make her feel better. But please…

Levi buried his face briefly at the back of her shoulder and breathed her in. “Don’t leave me, (y/n)… not you,”

Time Skip

He reached the hospital by dusk. She was still breathing when the doctors took her in and vanished behind the closed doors of a room. Levi was left alone in that hospital’s empty halls of utter despair. He just sat down on a chair outside the room they had taken her in and he waited. He didn’t even know how many hours he waited, he only knew it was late in the night and only a few candles and oil lamps were bringing light in the building. Most people had left, and the hospital was almost empty. He didn’t care though. He only glanced at the closed door of her room for the hundredth time, and he knew that any moment the doctor would walk out and either tell him that she was dead, or that she had miraculously survived.

He didn’t know which one was most likely to happen. Levi pressed his elbows on the top of his knees and he stared blankly down on the white marbled floor. There was a tight knot in his stomach that he always got when either (y/n) or any other of his comrades were in danger. All the previous times, he could always deal with it, but this time, it was unbearable.

Levi’s fingers fisted painfully in his hair. Eyes wide as he could think of nothing but the worst outcome. Those hours must have been the longest of his life. He could not remember himself being so scared of anything else in his life. He had left his ODM outside with his horse, along with his jacket and his ascot that had started to feel too tight around his neck. He had rolled up his sleeves at the height of his elbows, and a few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned.

Levi sighed heavily once more. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. He never thought something could scare him that much. He could take down the wildest, most abnormal titans that humanity would ever face. He could kill in cold blood the biggest scums of the Undercity. He could fight anything, and nothing would scare him enough to catch his breath halfway his throat.

Even the morning before the latest Expedition, when he jumped off his unceremoniously interrupted sleep, on that treacherous gut feeling that his comrades were all going to die. And that feeling was correct. And then, facing their families to bring the news was twice as scary as watching their bodies being buried. But she was there. (Y/n) was beside him through all of these and he had a reason to remain strong. He had a reason to keep that frozen mask on his face of the cruel, unforgiving man that everyone made him out to be. He had a reason to remain strong, and that reason was her. It had always been.

If he lost her, what would be his reason to go on in this life? If he lost her, who was going to be with him through all those terrors, and all those nightmares, and all that pressure? Who? He had no one he could hug and they would hug him back. It had always been her.

What the hell am I going to do if she’s-?

“Captain Levi,”

The doctor’s voice cut that endless chain of thoughts that tormented his mind. Levi stood up right away and approached the man in white. He remembered his heart insanely hammering beneath his chest until he could hear it as loud as the doctor’s voice.

“Lieutenant (Y/n) lost too much blood but we managed to stop the bleeding. We administered her enough blood from a donor. She should be okay after she fights off the Hypovolemic Shock,”

“And if she doesn’t?!” Levi asked worriedly.

“She will. It may take a while, but she will,” The doctor gave him a reassuring smile. “You may see her, Captain. I’ll be here the entire night, so if you need anything, just let me know,”

“Thank you, doc,”

The doctor gave him a nod before he walked away and Levi didn’t waste a moment further. He rushed in her room, closing the door behind. It wasn’t entirely dark. The moonlight came bright from the window, and an oil lamp was resting beside her bed on a small wooden table.

She looked pale. Paler than the dead. She didn’t have that lively colour on her skin that she usually had, nor that rosy flush that was almost permanently engulfing her cheeks. Her lips were no longer that gorgeous pink, they were almost a light blue. Levi sat by a chair that rested beside the bed and his hand reached for her own. He was startled of how cold her hand was. Her hands were usually never cold, but this time, it was as if he was holding a block of ice.

It hurt him so much watching her like that. He couldn’t even begin to think of how much she had fought or how much blood she had lost. Mike and his squad were dead. He could only imagine what she had seen. She was going to break down after she’d gain back her senses.

He trapped her hand between both his own. She hissed and it made his eyes widen for a moment on the thought of hurting her somehow. “Cold,” she mumbled before her body shook and her face twisted into a tormented expression. Her fingers tightened around his own before they loosened again. Her expression changed back into a peaceful one and she slipped back into unconsciousness.

Levi for once had no idea what to do. She was already beneath three blankets that didn’t seem to be helping somehow. He sighed heavily and he wished he could take his eyes off of her but he couldn’t. He laced their fingers together and tried to warm up her hand at least. It was his fault she was in that situation. He had promised to protect her no matter what, and now she had barely made it out of death’s way.

He had failed to keep her safe. Miserably. But how could anybody know that titans would show up out of nowhere in Wall Rose? It was clear that the walls weren’t safe anymore.

There was no place that was safe in this world. There was no place where she would be and be protected. The same was for everyone else, but he did not care about everyone else. He only cared about her. He only cared about her because he had allowed himself to fall so deeply, and so irrevocably, that there was no going back. There was no going back to normal. It had never been normal actually. He was always falling. Slow, and deliberate. He was only realising it now.

He didn’t know if she’d return that feeling, and it was alright. If she wouldn’t, then he was going to back away. But he’d let her know. He had to tell her because he knew he might not ever get that chance again.

Levi for once did what he wanted to do. A fourth blanket wasn’t going to do much. He pushed off his boots. He slipped beneath the bedsheets and settled her limp body on top of his own. Her back pressed against his chest, and her head rolled back on his shoulder. His hands slipped around her waist, gathering her own hands in his and pressing her body against his own. She was cold, but those small tremors that her pale lips made, finally slowed down.

Levi pressed a kiss on her temple and his hands tightened around her, spotting that tight bandage around her stomach. “Stay with me, (y/n),” he whispered softly in her ear. His breath brushed warm down her cheekbone. “Don’t ever leave me… I-” he had no idea what it was that cut him. He didn’t know why saying those three, simple words could be so difficult. He was afraid that she’d hear him. He gritted his teeth. It was so useless to keep resisting. “I love you,” He had never before been so honest with himself. He would always keep lying to himself about being strong, and untouchable, and cold, and ruthless. But that was one thing that he was absolutely certain about. He loved her.

But, what a coward am I? Only getting to tell her when she was unconscious and hoping she’d never hear him. No. He was going to say it tomorrow again when she'd wake up. Now, he was actually hoping she’d hear him. He was hoping that by telling her that, she wouldn’t give up on that fight for her life.

Levi buried his face in her hair, and he breathed her in. His arms were tight but careful around her. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. The doctor said she was going to be okay. He only had to wait and be with her. He wasn’t going to leave her side. Not ever.

A/N: Hello, lovelies!!!!🥰 You can read Part 2 here!!! Feel free to reblog and comment beneath to lemme know what you think! Thanks for reading!!! (This is also a chapter from my Levi x OC LongFic on ao3)

[caro-bug]

Oh, right. Emotions.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35409394/chapters/95785489

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

The stars were fake. The ones that were above Scaramouche at least.

Only recently did he realize that the real ones were always in plain sight, scattered across a certain redhead's face. He didn't even know it when the placement of every single freckle became familiar to him, as if he was a Sumeru Academia student memorizing the map of the fake sky that was hovering over Teyvat.

But most of all, he knew everything about each of Tartaglia's scars.

Before he betrayed the Fatui, at least.

"Just a few months apart and everything changed" He noticed, gently tracing his fingers along Ajax's bare chest. All of the faded scars that he remembered were barely visible, covered by new, relatively fresh ones.

The fact that he didn't know how they were created almost felt like betrayal.

"The one you're looking at I got when fighting The Traveller in Liyue, and this one from a Ruin Hunter" Tartaglia explained "some are from the treasure hoarders and the labirynth of warriors. The big one on my back was created by a Shuumatsuban Ninja that caught me on my way here. Guess they stopped caring about diplomacy after The Shogun executed Signora..."

"Do you really remember all that stuff with how much you're fighting every damn day?"

"Of course!" I figured that you'd be curious so I did my best to remember so you can catch up."

And again, this strange, warm feeling spread across Scaramouche's chest.

Before he took the gnosis, he tried many other things to make up for his lack of heart. From being cruel to his soldiers, to letting Dottore experiment on him with the power of a Delusion.

Until he heard that some people try to cope with heart-related issues by sleeping with people that are not their permanent lovers. He heard that its not the healthiest coping mechanism, but It's not like he had anything to lose, right?

He wasn't sure how did he end up doing that with Ajax, but it worked. Actually, this is why he became so familiar with the Elevnth's body in the first place.

"So you planned to stop midway our fight long before you found me, huh?"

"Yep. Exactly that."

Kunikuzushi was used to the fact that physical intimacy and pleasure coming from it could temporarily distract him from the empty feeling inside his chest. And of course, his chest wasn't physically empty anymore, and his emotions visibly intensified.

But was his newly obtained heart supposed to be burning hot just because they talked and cuddled like everytime they always would?

And why would Tartaglia being considerate only make this feeling so much more intense?

"Hey, Scara, are you okay? You look like you have a fever. Can you even get a fever?"

Apparently his face was burning hot too.

"I-It's okay" He said, everting his gaze on the ceiling of their shabby motel. "... By the way, It's Kunikuzushi now."

"Kunikuzushi..." Ajax repeated slowly, as if he was checking how the inazumian name tastes in his mouth. "Yeah, you probably shouldn't use your Fatui aliases anymore, so sure, I'll go with it, Kuni."

"... I didn't allow you to call me that."

"Aw, come on. I was supposed to hunt you, but I surrendered and slept with you instead. Am I really still that untrustworthy?"

"You can still try to take the gnosis from me."

"And you are in a position that makes you able to hurt me anytime you want."

Hearing those words, Kunikuzushi bit his lower lip, though more out of concern than arousal. He glanced at Tartaglia's face, and then at the scars covering his entire body.

"I... Don't want to distrust you." He admitted hesitantly. "But now that I have a heart, I can't afford to have it taken back."

A moment of silence fell between the two men, as both of them tried to collect their thoughts. Scaramouche was never the kind to trust people. Actually, he was always paranoid. Tartaglia couldn't be surprised or offended by it, but what should he do in this kind of situation?

"... Hey."

He said after a minute of silence, finally making Kunikuzushi look him in the eyes.

"What?"

"How does it feel to finally possess a heart? I mean, if you tell me why it's so important I'll have less reason to take it from you, no?"

Scaramouche turned his gaze away, instinctively trying to hide his distraught expression by burying his head in the other man's chest.

"... It doesn't feel as I thought it would."

He felt Tartaglia's fingers gently combing through his hair.

"What do you mean?"

"... I... Still don't feel completely whole. And I'm feeling things that I don't understand."

"Hey, I might be a bloodthirsty maniac corrupted by the abyss, but I'm still quite experienced in having a heart, you know? How about you try to describe your feelings to me so I can help you understand?"

Scaramouche nodded and closed his eyes, trying to find the right words to express what he felt.

"When I'm next to you, for example, I feel tickling somewhere in my stomach."

Even though he couldn't see Ajax's face, he could feel him heating up slightly at those words. Strange. Scaramouche was recently experiencing that too.

"Uhm... Is it a positive, or negative kinda tickling? Positive like, uh, butterflies in your stomach?"

"... That's a strange metaphor but I guess it works."

He could hear the redhead chuckle. "Yeah, in the literal sense it would be kind of gross. "

"That sounds like your thing though."

"Hey, I only like killing, not having insects in my stomach!"

Scaramouche couldn't help but smile a little. "So, what does that mean?"

And just like that, Ajax's face dropped, as if he was unsure if he could and wanted to answer the question.

"Well... It means that you're happy to see me. And...That you like me more than I thought you do."

Kunikuzushi stared at his former coworker, slowly reminding himself about the existence of that certain human concept... Having a crush.

"... Oh."

"It's alright, Kuni." Ajax reassured, his hands wrapping around Scaramouche's waist as he closed his eyes. "I like you more than you think too."

Even though the puppet wasn't sure if these words really meant what he thought they did, he still felt relief. And those butterflies in his stomach. And his new heart beating like crazy. And his face heating up too.

Overwhelmed by all these feelings that he wasn't used to, he sought refuge by snuggling his face into the other man's neck.

"Don't even think that just because I... like you a lot, you can get away with stuff."

"So no stealing the gnosis, then?" Childe asked, though he clearly wasn't bothered by the revelation.

"In your dreams, idiot."

"Aw, bummer."

And although Tartaglia clearly didn't care about his task too much, Kunikuzushi was still afraid.

"I want to go another round." He suddenly announced, sitting up only to pin his partner to the bed and swiftly positioning himself on his lap.

Childe seemed really eager as he smiled, grasping on Scaramouche's pale thighs. But after looking at his partner in search of a lustful gaze, and meeting lack of thereof, his attitude changed in an instant.

"You just don't want to go to sleep tonight, do you?"

Kunikuzushi's lips moved, as if he was trying to give Tartaglia some kind of an explanation. However, no reasonable rebuttal came out of his mouth.

"How about I stay here and you find another place to sleep that I don't know of?" We can meet back here tomorrow morning if you want to."

"... Are you fooling me, or are you seriously not aware that this bullshit behavior of yours will be treated as betrayal of The Tsaritsa?"

"If Taaritsa doesn't know, it doesn't hurt her" Tartaglia only shrugged, his fingers massaging gentle circles against Scaramouche's exposed skin. "Besides, all Harbingers have their own hidden agendas. Of course I'd choose to help the 'person I like more than he thought I do".

Hearing these words, Kunikuzushi couldn't help but smirk, leaning over his former coworker. "You really are impossible, Ajax".

"And you love it." The ginger rebutted, reaching out to touch the other man's cheek. "So, I'll see you tomorrow then? You should have a peaceful sleep at least once in a while."

Gazing into Scaramouche's eyes, he didn't even notice how the distance between their faces started closing. He only realized that as he felt the other man's lips touching his own in an awkward, unexperienced kiss.

Funny, but understandable. Although they did many intimate things before... Kissing actually wasn't one of them.

"Good idea. but I still want to go another round" He heard Kunikuzushi whisper into his ear. "This time with a man I like more than I thought I did."

[pillage-and-lute]

Thicker Than Water (Part 4)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (here) Part 5, Part 6, Part 7,  Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

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He awoke sore and badly rested, tears dried on his face.

Jaskier made it through the next day. He ate a little of the food Ciri offered him, only because when he tried to decline the first time her eyes got large and her bottom lip showed just the barest hint of a tremble. He couldn’t bear it. The dry horse bread that was usual for traveling rations crumbled in his mouth. He was so hungry, it was one of the best things he’d ever tasted. 

Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to even unsling his lute from his shoulder during their trek. His fingers itched to play, of course. He continued his story for Ciri and in his mind he played music for the background, he just couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t sell his lute in this next town, but before they reached Kaer Morhen he would have to. It would give them money, and he wouldn’t be a burden. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and continued telling Ciri the story. 

He noticed a bit before mid day that Geralt was watching him. That wasn’t out of sorts, of course. Yennefer and Ciri were watching him too, he was an excellent storyteller and the tale was enthralling. Geralt didn’t seem to be paying attention to the story though. He was staring-- glowering--brow low and furrowed, at Jaskier. 

Jaskier felt hurt lance through him and he almost staggered, avoiding Geralt’s gaze. He knew Geralt didn’t want him along, didn’t want him at all, but he couldn’t even pretend? He couldn’t go back to their relationship before? Not the warm, almost companionable silences that had been nurtured between them, but the grunts and stone faced silence of the beginning of their acquaintance.  

Jaskier breathed through the pain in his chest. Twenty years of silences, all kinds of them, stony and friendly and sleepy and painful and quietly nice. But they were back to the beginning, or worse, Geralt angry and Jaskier’s voice filling in places it didn’t belong.

“Jaskier?”

That was Ciri, and Jaskier realized that he’d actually trailed off mid-sentence. 

“Sorry little highness,” he smiled and gave a funny little bow. “I’m but a simple entertainer, a poet and a fool, sometimes my mind runs away from me.”

“Fool is right,” Yennefer snorted. It wasn’t totally unkind, but it still stung. It stung even more when Geralt, so taciturn all day, snorted with laughter at her comment. Jaskier felt his ears burn and his chest ache.

“Now, where was I?”

“The king’s son met the North Wind,” Ciri said, matching Jaskier’s steps. “And he has to beat him in a game of wit to gain knowledge of where the sorcerer’s daughter was taken, that’s what you said, but you didn’t tell us what game yet.”

At least someone treasured his words, Jaskier thought. Although they weren’t worth much, he threw one out after the other. 

Like garbage, whispered the back of his mind.

“Ah yes,” he said instead. “the North Wind sat before the king’s son, and laid out a chess set made of ice and wind.”

“How can chess pieces be made of wind?”

Jaskier smiled, Ciri asked questions at all the right places. “The North Wind wanders, he goes everywhere, blowing cold breath across The Continent. When the North Wind is present and we breath our breath can be seen.” Jaskier smiled here and added an aside, “My little sister used to call it dragon smoke. But by the same magic that gives the North Wind a body to walk the world, he can take our frozen breath and turn it cold and solid as glass.”

Jaskier let himself tell the story on autopilot. His feet ached. He’d been darning the socks he was wearing for a year or more, but he wasn’t good at it and the lumps were rubbing his toes raw. Worse than that, the soles of his boots were almost worn through. Just one more thing he’d have to buy.

He felt ashamed of himself. His boots had been going thin for a while, and instead of saving his coin and getting them repaired or just buying new ones, he’d drowned himself in drink, feeling sorry. Oh, he hadn’t known he would be making a trip up a mountain, but he needed boots regardless. No wonder Geralt had always been upset with him, he always put pleasure over sense, couldn’t even spend coin sensibly.

Couldn’t darn socks, couldn’t budget his coin, couldn’t shut up. A fool.

He stumbled on a tree root and nearly swore. Couldn’t even walk right. One of the blisters building on his foot had burst, he was sure. It was easy to tell, the pain had gone from a rubbing ache to stinging and warm. Only years of practice and performance kept him from interrupting the story.

Something must have shown on his face though, or his scent changed or whatever because Geralt was staring at him intently. That face, always so unreadable. 

Jaskier wasn’t going to give him anything else to scowl about. He kept walking, keeping the story rolling and his voice light. His bones ached. He had to stop for just a moment when a button, long past hanging loosely on his doublet, finally pulled free. He picked it up and the head rush nearly took him to the ground. He’d eaten little, slept poorly, and the only food he’d had in a long time before this was ale. He blinked the grey from his vision, trying not to let the panic show when it didn’t go away as quickly as he’d have liked.

It was okay. It was all going to be okay. They’d make it to the village by nightfall. They wouldn’t sleep there of course but he could get proper food. Maybe even slip away and catch a quick nap in a stable or hayloft or something. His whole body was buzzing with a sort of exhausted energy and his heart was pounding.

Jaskier reflected that he hadn’t been well before meeting up with Geralt and his little family. He’d been sick with drink and heartache and had not enough food then too. 

Smile through the pain.

This wasn’t even bad as performances could go. Once he’d actually broken a finger just before a set at Oxenfurt. Simple clumsiness, he’d closed his index finger in a door, but he’d played his whole set, with a perfect score from his professor.

It grew darker, the sun just setting when they reached a field at the edge of the town. It was a large open field and, in warmer months, it was likely home to fairs and large market days. Probably in these rural areas people traveled for a week to bring their goods and livestock to this town. It didn’t matter now, mid autumn settling into late autumn. To Jaskier the town was nameless. 

They set up camp in the field. It left them exposed to being seen, but they hid themselves behind a small rise on the edge of the field, blocking them mostly from sight. Still, Geralt seemed on edge. Jaskier wasn’t sure it was about the camp. Geralt kept looking over at him with his eyebrows pressed together. Whenever he did that it formed this little crease right between his brows that Jaskier wanted to kiss away.

Jaskier bit his lip, hard, to focus on anything other than that.

The three of them sat, too tired to talk much more. Jaskier had finished most of the story and decided to leave the rest for the next day they were traveling a lot, to give Ciri something else to think about. She was definitely Calanthe’s blood. They traveled all day and she never complained, but also told them when she needed to stop, advocating for herself in no uncertain terms. It was the princess herself who interrupted his thoughts.

“You said you had a sister, do you have lots of siblings?”

“Not really,” Jaskier said, settling down on the ground and feeling his bones pop. His blisters were definitely bleeding inside his boots too. “Two older brothers, Henrik and Teodor, and I had a younger sister, Lotte.”

“Had?”

“She was sickly, always too small for her age,” Jaskier said quietly. “I learned the lute for her, at first. She liked music and was often bedridden. A fever took her when she was about your age.” Jaskier looked down at his battered boots. 

“I’m sorry,” Ciri whispered. 

“It’s allright little highness, it’s been almost thirty years now. Time flies.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” Geralt said. It was growly, but Geralt always used that tone.

“You never really asked.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Jaskier ate the last of the rations in his pack, waving away Ciri’s offerings and showing her his food as proof that he had some. It didn’t really settle the hunger that had been eating him from the inside out all day, but at this point he figured he could eat a mountain and still have room for dessert.

“Tomorrow,” Geralt said gruffly once dinner was cleared away. “We don’t all enter the town as a group. Yen and Ciri go together. I go alone. Jaskier goes alone.”

Jaskier nodded, so did Ciri and Yennefer.

“If we see eachother, act as though we don’t know eachother,” Geralt said, then he turned his gaze on Jaskier. “Don’t attract too much attention.”

Jaskier bristled at getting his own private reprimand. “I’m a bard, Geralt,” he said. “How am I supposed to earn coin if I don’t play.”

Geralt grunted. “I didn’t say don’t play just no... don’t do the whole...” he gestured a vauge hand. 

“The whole...me?” Jaskier said sarcastically. He was pulling at the lion’s tail he knew, but he was in pain and tired and hungry and Geralt had no right to be so cruel.

“The whole bright colors, loud and annoying thing. Country bard, not court bard, got it?”

Loud and annoying.

“Got it,” Jaskier said, looking back down at his boots. He didn’t say that none of his clothes could have passed for courtly anymore anyway. 

They set about getting ready for bed. Ciri gave him a quick hug before she and Yennefer disappeared into their magical tent. Jaskier sat and pulled off his boots, not letting a single flicker of pain show on his face. He knew Geralt would be able to smell blood, but Geralt had gone to get water from the nearby river. He had to peel his socks off and yes, there was blood there, by now stuck into the threadbare fabric. He let himself wince then. He rinsed off the wounds but he was without bandages, so he just dried off the area and put his other pair of socks on. He only had the two pairs anyway, but at least the blisters would stay dry. 

He rolled himself into his bedroll and thought of tomorrow. At least there were no tree roots here.

The next day dawned slowly, instead of bright pinks and oranges it was a kind of runny yellow that just leeched into the sky before fading into early morning blue. Jaskier watched in admiration as Yennefer changed Geralt’s hair to short and dark, and then gave herself brown eyes and a slightly different bone structure. To look at both of them was odd, because Jaskier could see the similarities. Yennefer’s nose was changed and her cheekbones were a little different, but it was still her, and Geralt just looked like a different, although quite handsome, version of himself. Ciri was simply given mousy brown hair and some extra freckles.

Just like that, the perfect and all powerful family looked like two normal people and one witcher who was still clearly a witcher but not the white wolf. Jaskier shouldered his lute. He’d cleaned up the scruff he’d been growing into a more respectable look and with his longer hair and tatty cloak he looked like any poor traveling musician. If he’d traded the lute for a shortbow he could have looked like a woodsman, totally nondescript.

He was entering from a different direction, so as not to arouse suspicion, and so was Geralt. Jaskier began walking around, so that he could enter from the east. Yen and Ciri would walk into town the closest direction, and Geralt was entering from the west. This early, it was unlikely they would have been seen all together. 

Jaskier made his way to the eastern edge of the town and walked in, scanning the streets. If this were a farm people would be up and awake long before now, farmers wake well before dawn, but this was a town, and so few people wandered the streets. Shop keepers were just beginning to open up. Jaskier bought a couple pears, slightly overripe but cheaper because of it, off of a fruit seller and had breakfast. He tried to lock into his mind all the shops around so he could find his supplies easiest later.

His mind was resisting him though. In spite of the softer ground, Jaskier had still slept badly last night. His body ached and he wished he could find somewhere warm to lay for an hour or two. Instead he found the well. 

As wells should be, this one was right in the center of town. He set down his lute case beside it, tuned his lovely lady, and began to play.

In his very first few months after leaving Oxenfurt he had learned this trick, and used it often. If you get into a town early, play at the well. People get their water first thing in the morning and there you are.

A few young women with yokes and buckets smiled at him and he nodded in return. The day brightened a little further as the sun crept above the buildings and more people came to gather in the town square. They weren’t there to hear Jaskier, not at first, most of them came for water, or to chat with neighbors, or discuss business. Many of them gathered around him though. 

Coins clattered into the case. Mostly coppers, but in a little town like this that was quite normal. 

“As sweet Polly Oliver lay musing in bed, A sudden strange fancy came into her head. "Nor father nor mother shall make me false prove, I'll 'list as a soldier, and follow my love,” he sang.

“So early next morning she softly arose, And dressed herself up in her dead brother's clothes. She cut her hair close, and she stained her face brown, And went for a soldier to fair Rinde Town.”

Sweet Polly Oliver was one of his favorites, a simple country song about a girl and her lover in wartime. This town was far enough north that with luck Nilfgaard wouldn’t attack, but the anxiety threatened. 

Jaskier gave a good performance, perhaps not his best, but he was tired and cold and the flagstones beneath his feet were very hard. He danced about, playing sweet folk songs and jigs and reels, delighting in the people who swept up and danced along. Still, though, he felt his feet bleeding inside his boots. He played from just after dawn until perhaps an hour after noon before bowing away and taking his coin. 

He’d done better than he’d expected, but there wasn’t nearly enough coin for all the things he’d need for Kaer Morhen, and extra food to help Geralt and Ciri. He’d buy what he needed now, and they’d stop again in Ard Carraigh before the keep. He’d sell his lute there, it was a large city, and he’d get a good price. The thought still made him ache, though. 

It wasn’t just his emotions causing him pain, he realised. The aches he’d been experiencing were in his chest lately, and both physical and emotional. He just needed more rest. 

Jaskier slipped through back alleys and bent streets. He’d seen a stable on his way into town. He stepped in quietly, startling a stable hand, no more than a boy, who’d been quietly talking to a horse.

“You’re the bard,” he said. “Saw you in the square jus’ this morning.”

“That’s right,” Jaskier said, bowing a little. “I’m afraid I’ll be moving on this evening and--”

“And you want to have a kip in the stables,” said the boy. “Yeah lots o’ musicians and peddlers do that. Rule is though, I got to get a coin off ‘em first as payment. I’m sorry, but I get a beating if’n I don’t.”

“No worries,” Jaskier said, he’d expected as much. He handed the boy two copper coins. “There’s pay, won’t have you getting beaten for my sake, the second coin is to wake me in two hours.”

The boy gave him a lopsided grin. “You got it sir, thanks.”

Jaskier snuggled up in the hay loft. He’d often done it, it was pretty common, if you couldn’t buy a stay at an inn or especially if you just needed a ‘kip’ as the boy had said, during the day. He’d slept in haystacks once in a while on the road too. They were sort of comfortable and surprisingly warm and, best of all, robbers didn’t get you if you kept yourself mostly under the hay.

The scent of hay and oats and horses lulled him to sleep.

He dreamed about haystacks. For some reason Roach was in the haystack with him. Geralt and Ciri too, even Yennefer. It was a crowded haystack indeed, and it grew smaller and smaller until Jaskier had to leave it and sleep on the ground so that the others weren’t squished.

He awoke to the stable boy nudging him.

“Pardon me mister,” he said. “But it’s been two hours.”

Jaskier thanked him and brushed off his clothes. 

The shops were doing a good trade this afternoon and he’d be sure to be a face in the crowd. He bought a small cooking pot and plenty of ground oats and barley for porridge at one shop. They were light to carry and owner packaged them nicely, first in one cheap, cloth drawstring bag, and then in another such bag, but with the drawstring on a different side, so he was unlikely to lose food. 

In another stall he bought plenty of nuts, walnuts were cheap here and would keep well. Good for traveling and they had protein. Some dried jerky, dried peas, and dried lentils finished his food shopping, and also most of his coin.

It was three days to Ard Carraigh, another week to trek up to the keep. The food would sustain him for that long, and they’d probably just pool their food to make sure everyone was fed. Still, he wasn’t being a burden, not too much. 

He couldn’t afford new boots, gloves, or a cloak right now, but with the last of his coin he bought a new pair of thick, warm socks, a small roll of bandages, and a couple pieces of candied ginger in a little paper twist. He tucked them all away and left the town, disappearing back to the field and their little camp well before the sun set. 

Jaskier’s heart sunk to see that he was the last to arrive. Everything was packed up, they couldn’t risk staying in the same place two nights in a row. Geralt grunted at him, but didn’t unleash any thoughts on Jaskier being a burden, so he counted himself lucky. 

He hung his head a little at having delayed their parting and trekked after the perfect little family, his pack much heavier than it had been. Ciri slid her hand into his and they walked on in silence. The hand was nice though.

In an odd way, it hurt, too. He wasn’t part of the family, so he didn’t really deserve this, but it was painfully good to have just a taste of being wanted. 

What would happen, he wondered, when the winter was over. He was a danger to Geralt and Ciri if Nilfgaard found him. He wasn’t wanted by Geralt at all. Jaskier was reminded once again that it would be so much easier for Geralt to kill him, or for Yennefer to wipe his memory. Maybe he could fake his death to get Nilfgaard of his trail.

“Jaskier?” Ciri asked. “How did you become a bard?”

Jaskier looked down at her, maudlin thoughts interuppted. “Oh, well, it’s not as though you have to register, you just become one. Walking into an inn and saying ‘let me play for you pretty please I need food’ is a good start.”

“No,” Ciri giggled. “I meant, you said you learned the lute for your sister, but you write your own music and stuff too.”

“Oh, well, anyone can write music if they have an instrument and a good enough memory,” Jaskier said. “Indeed, many of the greatest bards had little education at all, I, however, studied at Oxenfurt.”

“Did you like it?”

“Sometimes. It was school, and some parts were dull but I learned much.”

“I heard some of the maids giggling once about a young scholar who’d come to stay with us,” Ciri said, matter of factly. “He was always in the library and was kind of snooty with me when I asked questions, but the maids were saying he certainly had a lot of ‘carnal knowledge’. Did you study that too?”

Jaskier was choking on thin air. 

“I, um, no it was more of a hobby,” Jaskier said before his head could catch up with his mouth. “Little Highness, I suspect you weren’t supposed to hear that conversation, and no, I studied the seven liberal arts.”

“So it was about sex, I was never sure,” Ciri said.

Jaskier coughed awkwardly. “Yes, princess.”

“It’s okay, I know about that stuff, Grandmother explained it.”

Jaskier let out a breath, at least he wouldn’t have to be the one to explain anything to her. 

“When you went to school were you scared to leave your family?” Ciri asked.

“No, pet, I was excited to go,” he wasn’t about to get into all his trauma with her, she had enough of her own, poor thing. “I couldn’t wait to learn about music and poetry.”

“Grandmother said all poets were silly romantics and dreamers, but I think that sounds nice. Do you have a moose?”

“A what?”

“I read it in a book, a moose, somebody you love and you write about it.”

“Oh, that’s one of the trickier words Ciri, it’s said ‘muse’, and yes, I had one or two.”

“Only one or two? In the book the poet had hundreds,” Ciri sounded almost disappointed. 

“I only ever needed one,” Jaskier said quietly. “One that mattered anyway.”

“And your Countess still left you,” Geralt said, rather coldly. He was doing his annoyed face and Jaskier could have kicked himself. He’d been talking too much. The reminder that the Countess de Stael had left him too hurt, but Jaskier wasn’t going to risk Geralt’s ire to say that she wasn’t the muse he was talking about. That was maybe something he should keep to himself.

“Do muses often leave?” Ciri asked, wide eyed. “If somebody was writing me poetry I wouldn’t want to.”

“No, usually the poet does the leaving,” Jaskier said. “After his muse asks him to go. There’s a shelf life on a bard, you know. We only have so many stories and songs before we’re used up and no one wants us around anymore. That’s when we move along.”

“I’ll hear your stories again and again,” Ciri said. “I won’t ask you to go.”

Jaskier’s heart curled up and whimpered inside his chest. He’d have to go sooner or later, he’d have to leave her. Geralt would get sick of him, too sick to bear even for Ciri’s sake. Or Jaskier would just have to leave of his own volition, lest he shovel shit into her life too.

If he could give her life one blessing...

“This’ll do for a campsite,” Geralt said. It was a tiny, clear area. Jaskier almost groaned. It was surrounded by oak trees, with dropped acorns that would dig into his bedroll and mottle his back with bruises come morning. He’d had a good rest in town, though, so another bad night of sleep wouldn’t be too bad, he told himself.

The others had eaten in town. Jaskier said he had too, so he wouldn’t waste rations. He had plenty, but strangely, he wasn’t so hungry lately. Anyway, always best to save.

He pulled off his boots and  his freshly bloodied socks. Ew. Ciri retired to the magic tent early, exhausted from their long days of walking. Jaskier listened to Yennefer and Geralt talk.

“We’ll need lots of supplies in Ard Carraigh,” Geralt was saying.

“We don’t have any money,” Yennefer replied. 

Jaskier had his back to them as he cleaned the wounds on his feet, but he could picture grave expressions. 

“We’ll get some, I’ll do a quick contract there, something. We’ll need a cart and pony to get Ciri up The Killer, it’s too much for her, it’s too hard for some witchers even.”

“That’ll cost,” Yennefer said. “But you’re right. I wish I could portal us but--”

“Tracking, exactly. There’s always plenty of contracts in cities, it’ll be fine.”

Jaskier looked at the blisters on his foot, they’d opened more with his long performance that day. It was no matter, he wound the bandages around them and put on his new, thick socks. At least his feet would be warm. 

Not too warm, though. He spotted a hole in the bottom of his boot that he hadn’t noticed before.

And they needed lots of money for Ard Carraigh. No matter. He knew how to get some.

He pretended his eyes filled with tears from the pain of blisters, not from heartache, as he pushed his feet back into his boots and opened the lute case. He pulled out his beautiful girl. He wouldn’t play her, it would annoy Geralt. He’d always hated Jaskier’s music, although he hated to hear Jaskier sing even more. 

Pie with no filling.

Jaskier wished he could play her, though. It was going to break his heart to part with her, and he didn’t think he’d ever played another instrument as fine. If he could, he’d play her every second until he had to sell her. 

Probably for the best, though, if he was going to fake his death. She was distinctive.

He brushed a hand over the beautiful wood work on her front. There was a little bit of linseed oil left, and he poured it on the rag he kept in the case and began to work over his girl lovingly. His eyes teared up again, but he fought it back. He would have smashed his lute if it meant helping Ciri. And Geralt.

Jaskier longed for Geralt to forgive him, to take him back and let him stay by his side, but he’d meant what he’d said, bards have a shelf life, and Jaskier’s time was up. 

He wished Geralt would at least speak with him, though. His heart was aching. In a completely different sense, so was his chest.

“Play us a tune, bard,” Yennefer said.

Jaskier turned around. Yen and Geralt were sitting beside eachother, close together. She looked so beautiful in her fine cloak that Jaskier wondered how he ever thought he could catch Geralt’s eye when beings like her existed.

“You know,” he said. “It’s late and I wouldn’t want to bother Ciri.”

“Tent’s soundproof,” Yennefer said, waving her hand. 

“I mean, really,” Jaskier protested weakly. Disobeying Yennefer’s request/command was like bathing your brain in lava, but Geralt was looking angry again. Some would say there wasn’t much change from Geralt’s normal expression, but Jaskier knew his face better than he knew his own. Something had made Geralt angry or upset. The only possible answer was Jaskier. It was always Jaskier. 

“Play us a song, bard,” Yennefer said. “You’ve been so quiet other than stories, I’d almost think you were a doppler, Melitele knows no one could have taught you to shut up.”

Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat.

He began, slowly, to pick out a gently tune on his lute. It was a song about winter and home, and he knew the lyrics well. Yennefer had only asked him to play, so he would. His music was at least less offensive than his voice.

He reveled in the feel of his lute beneath his fingers, letting the feeling wash over him, committing it to memory.

When he was finished Yennefer said, “I suppose your voice was tired from your performance, I heard in the town how the bard had played such a long set.”

Jaskier smiled grimly back at her. “Just earning my keep.”

He went to bed, feeling the cold seep into his bones.

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Tag List!

@frywen-babbles @mordoriscalling @thedarkestangel1 @kerfufflezz  @live-long-and-trek-on @holymotherwolf @gryffinqueen

@samukai @charlies-dragon  I can’t seem to tag, but they’re on the list

[comfy-whumpee]

Flare

It’s an OC Debut!

@iaminamoodymoodtoday, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @avian-american

Sun witch. It was obvious the moment he walked through the door. Warm-toned brown skin, eyes with a golden tint, and a kind of intensity to his walk, as though the way he was moving was the way he had moved since the beginning of life.

It had been a year or more since she’d met one. Annalise smiled brightly, straightening in her chair, raising a hand to hail the teenager over. He looked to be about nineteen. A late bloomer, for a sun witch. Not as late as a star or moon… But still late enough that it had probably come as a surprise. A second adolescence, with new and complex powers.

“Miss Geier?” the boy asked, hesitating at her table.

“That’s me,” Annalise agreed with a smile, offering her hand to shake. The boy leaned over and shook, before taking the seat opposite her. He glanced at the lunch menu on the table before turning his gaze back to her, eyes roaming over her face.

She waited patiently, smiling. She knew she was a sight. One eye was pale, milky blue-grey, the other a stronger cerulean. Her hair was black and tied back with a silver clip at the nape of her neck, but at certain angles, there appeared to be red strands in it. Light brown skin had a pale white patch around her lighter eye, with some barely-healed scarring around its edges. Her freckles were too pale for her skin tone. She looked bizarre.

And she knew that. So she waited, while the sun witch looked between her different parts.

When his gaze returned to her eyes, flicking between them as though he wasn’t sure which to use, she spoke, in a slightly husky, pleasant voice. “I did some research after we spoke on the phone. Can you tell me when you first noticed the changes?”

He blinked, clearing his throat. “Two…two weeks ago.” He shuddered. “It was, was bad. I was in a car accident. It was like a surge of heat… I got trapped in, i-in a small space, and when I pushed against the – the car door, it warped, like it was molten… My hands burned. I felt like I had a fever but – but the worst thing was the way I could feel my own pulse. Not like normal, like after exercise, but… It hurt, how hard my heart was beating, like, like my blood was boiling.”

Annalise listened to the story with a serious expression, nodding at each detail.

“I got out,” he finished, looking down at the table with his shoulders hunched. “And since, since then, I’ve been… I’m always warm. And the daylight feels – feels different. I can tell if it’s sunny before I even open the curtains. I never squint anymore in the light. And sometimes, I, I heat things up just by holding them.”

Annalise nodded more sharply, and he fell quiet. “The first thing I want to tell you is that all of this is normal,” she said soothingly, releasing some of the tension that had wound into his back. “Magic often reveals itself when you’re in danger or under stress. It is often difficult to control, at first. It can change or enhance your senses, give you feelings that you’ve never felt before, help you know things you wouldn’t have been able to know before… All of this is normal.”

He took a shaky breath and tried to smile. “Thank you. That, that means a lot to hear.”

She smiled back. “Of course. It’s a scary time. I think you’ve had a particularly difficult time because… Well, it sounds like you’re unusually strong. To melt metal like that…”

He blinked. He looked down at his hands. “Am… Am I?”

Annalise shifted forwards in her chair, using her arms to support her. “Yes. For beginner magic, that amount of power is a hindrance. It has its own will. Have you noticed unusual sensations while you’re tired or distracted? Have you had trouble sleeping, nightmares perhaps?”

He took an uneven breath and nodded, running a hand over his hair. Poor boy.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry. There is a straightforward solution. You can store your magic, put some into an object, infuse it. When you’re ready, you can draw the rest of your power out again. Controlled.” She tipped her head to the side, voice low, warm as a hearth. “Make sense?”

Amber eyes. It had been so long. His magic would be warm. He nodded again, taken along by her confident explanation. “Yes, that… That sounds good.”

Annalise reached into the bag on her lap, drawing out some objects. A smooth oval of yellow topaz, a tissue-wrapped piece of charcoal, a vial of helium, and the pressed head of a sunflower in an envelope of brown parchment. She laid them on the table.

“Which of these appeals to you? It varies, person to person. One of these will feel like the easiest, the most familiar. Push your magic into that object. You may need more than one.”

He hesitated. “It… It won’t hurt?”

“No,” she reassured him. “It may feel tiring, but that’s just because you’re actually using your magic at will. Touch them. Try.”

He reached out. Annalise picked up her iced coffee and took a sip, watching with sharp eyes as his fingers brushed the vial, then the sunflower, and settled on the piece of charcoal.

She heard his breath catch slightly. “I can feel it.”

“Take the warmth you can feel. Imagine it flowing out, into the charcoal. Magic is very intuitive. Too intuitive, sometimes.”

He frowned in concentration, brows lowering over those bright sunshine eyes. A soft oh left his mouth absently as she felt the wellspring of magic begin to flow in him. His eyes seemed to become brighter, burning, as it moved through his body into the infusion.

Annalise licked her lips. Her long nails slid down the arm of her chair, holding herself back.

It was a minute before the flow started to slow. The boy blinked, some of his light dulling, skin paling. He looked at Annalise, eyes a little wide, a little nervous. “Is… Is that it? Or should I keep going?”

“Keep going,” she told him, urged him when he hesitated, “until you can’t give out any more. It’s the best way.”

“It – it feels cold.”

“That’s normal,” she replied, voice layered with something coarse and alluring. “It’s alright, David. Keep going.”

He shivered, but he pushed harder, until his eyes were fluttering. It felt awful, of course. Ice climbing up your spine, frost lining your lungs, all of those terrible effects of magic drain.

Young witches could be so naïve.

By the time the flow sputtered to a stop, the boy was pallid, dizzy with exhaustion, and his eyes were a faded hazel.

Annalise reached out, and took the warm piece of charcoal from under his limp hand.

“Your magic will be manageable now,” she told him, tucking away her possessions. She sipped the last of her coffee, the straw rattling against melted chips of ice.

Hazy eyes rose to look at her, lost. “My… You’re taking it?”

“Yes, I am.” She wheeled back from the table. “But don’t worry.” The layers returned to her voice, powered by the earth magic she had stolen two months ago, lending its charismatic weight to her words. “Don’t worry. You’ll be happier like this, with your normal life back.”

“And…you?”

Annalise gave him a condescending look. She brushed her hair back from her cheek, fingers tracing the star-like freckles that had once belonged to a young woman like him. She decided not to answer, instead nudging the joystick on the arm of her chair to take her out of the café.

Her left eye would be green, by tomorrow.

[knifewieldingenby]

a heart’s a heavy burden, part one

Incubus Jaskier, fic warning: very minor discussions about sex but no smut (I’m saving that for chapter two if you’d like to skip it. Mentions of energy starvation.

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Jaskier had been at Kaer Morhen for two months when things started to get strange. He woke up dizzy and nauseous, stumbling around the room to get clothes over his cold body. He felt hungry all the time but even the thought of food was making him sick. And his head, his damn head, felt like it was full of bees.

At first he thought it was just a cold. After all, it was certainly chilly enough in the keep to catch one easily. He wandered the halls wrapped in thick furs, sat by the fire with Lambert plastered to his side most evenings, stealing each other’s body heat. The other wolves teased them relentlessly, even Geralt, though he could see a hint of concern in the White Wolf’s eyes every now and again. But he’d had colds, and none of them felt as consuming as this. Nor did it feel like the flu; despite the dizziness and full head he was still able to move around the keep, could still eat when his stomach finally threw a fit. This was something...else.

He knew something was seriously wrong when he started getting angry for no reason. Every sound, every light, every laugh that rang out in the keep pissed him off. When Lambert tried to tease him about his hair (of all things) one morning he issued a swift “fuck off” that bit so hard it left Lambert in silence. The worst part was that Jaskier didn’t even feel bad about it. It didn’t make him feel any better, either. He felt like a powder keg, on the edge of exploding any second about the smallest of things. It wasn’t like him at all.

“I don’t feel so good,” Jaskier finally got up the courage to say one morning as he hobbled down to join the wolves hours after they’d woken up. The truth was, he didn’t want to bother them with his human problems. He didn’t want Geralt to regret bringing him here. 

“I noticed,” Geralt said. It was Eskel that approached him and gently touched Jaskier’s forehead with the back of his hand. He hummed and cocked his head a little.

“You have a low grade fever, that’s for sure. Maybe you should still be in bed.”

Jaskier nodded. Bed sounded good. He had forced himself to get up this morning - though he suspected it wasn’t actually morning anymore - but if he’d had his way he would have stayed in bed all day. His head felt heavy all of a sudden and he swayed in place. He felt an arm on him a moment later and he was aware he was moving, practically being dragged up to his room.

“I’ll bring you food later,” came Geralt’s voice. His vision faded in and out but he forced himself to keep his eyes on the man, who was now visibly worried. Before he knew it they were in his room and Geralt was positioning him in bed. “How do you feel?”

“Hungry.”

Geralt smiled slightly. “I’m sure. I can get you some food now-”

“No.” It came out somewhere between a whine and a growl, and Jaskier had the good sense to look embarrassed. Geralt nodded slowly, eyes full of confusion. 

“Okay, when you wake up then.” He looked down and grabbed Jaskier’s hand. “Take these off, it can’t be comfortable.” And then he was slipping Jaskier’s rings off his finger one at a time. He got to the last one on his left hand, iridescent pink and blue, a remnant of his childhood, and clamped his finger down hard.

“I never take that one off,” he said coldly. Thankfully Geralt didn’t push him on it; he squeezed his hand and placed it back on the bed. 

“Okay. Sleep well. I’ll be back later.”

Jaskier closed his eyes and felt the heavy weight of sleep consume him. Before he succumbed, he thought back to his ring. His mother gifted it to him when he was eight, maybe nine - he no longer knew how long he’d had it, but he never once took it off. It grew with him as his mother promised, by merit of the magic whirling inside it. ‘It’ll keep you safe from those who wish to hurt you,’ she’d said. She never clarified beyond that and after a while he stopped asking. The few times he thought about taking it off he felt the strong pull of magic and thought he’d better not.

Now he grabbed the ring and pulled. It slipped off with surprisingly little resistance. He placed it on the night stand with his other rings, turned onto his side, and let sleep take him. 

---

When he finally woke again it was night and Geralt was sitting on the edge of the bed with a bowl in his hands. Jaskier felt like he was using all the strength in him just to sit up, his eyes taking a minute to focus. The room was dim, a small fire lit in the fireplace. He zeroed in on Geralt and squinted.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” It’s not his fault the question came out aggressive and demanding; he’d tried for gentle and his brain told him to fuck right off with that. 

“Eat,” he ordered. Jaskier’s stomach turned. He hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and even then he’d only had a small scoop of stew. Food sounded like a bad idea, and yet he felt famished. Still, he took the bowl and, under Geralt’s watchful eyes, ate a few spoonfuls. He held the bowl out to Geralt when he felt his stomach couldn’t take anymore and Geralt took it without a fight, placing it back on the table.

“You took your ring off,” he noted.

“Yeah, I figured I’d worn it since I was a kid and it was time to free my finger, so to speak.”

“Hmm.” He stood up quickly and headed for the door. “I need to speak with Eskel and Lambert for a moment. Try to get some more food in you if you can.”

Jaskier waited patiently for Geralt to return, confused but too tired to worry about it. When he heard multiple footsteps down the hall he sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to people right now.

“Holy shit, you really weren’t kidding.” Jaskier looked up to where Lambert was entering the room, followed closely by Eskel and Geralt. Geralt growled a warning at him and he laughed. “Sorry, but I definitely thought you were making shit up.”

“Stop talking,” Eskel said. He came closer to Jaskier and sat at the end of the bed. “This is...certainly new.”

Jaskier was only getting more confused by the minute. Him eating soup was new? Being in bed? Being sick? Of fucking course it was new, he hadn’t been sick his whole time here. 

“What’s new?” He snapped. Lambert chuckled again.

“Guess we know why he’s been in such a shit mood.”

“Lambert, I swear on my sword I will snap you in half.” Geralt grabbed a hand mirror and brought it to Jaskier. “Don’t...ah, just don’t freak out okay?”

Jaskier snatched the mirror from Geralt and oh, that was new. That was very new. He touched his forehead where Eskel had touched him just this afternoon. Instead of a nearly flat surface he was met with two horns that curled up and around his head, close to his hairline, and flicked up at the ends. 

Fucking horns.

“What. The fuck.”

“Oh no, he’s freaking out,” Eskel said under his breath. Geralt groaned and shook his head.

“Why did I bother to bring you two up here? You’re making it worse.”

“Geralt.”

Jaskier’s voice shook. Fear bubbled up and over; he was sure the wolves could smell it in the air. He looked at them through brand new eyes. He was...he was a monster, for fuck’s sake, something these men hunted for a living. What were they going to do with him? None of them had their swords, but he knew even in the keep they all kept small daggers on them just in case something happened. And now that something was Jaskier. A monster.

“It’s okay.” Geralt sat next to him, ignoring the way he flinched from the proximity, the way it made Geralt’s heart ache. “I know it’s new, and scary, but you’re okay. You’re safe.”

“But I- I’m a monster, Geralt. How did this happen to me?”

Geralt glanced over at the night table and picked up the iridescent ring. It looked so small in his big hands, looked so small now that it wasn’t on Jaskier’s finger anymore.

“Tell me about this ring.”

“My mother gave it to me. Said it would protect me from people who might hurt me. She made me promise never to take it off, and I haven’t until now.”

“It’s a glamour, isn’t it?” Lambert asked. Geralt nodded.

“Yes, it’s a glamour. Your mother clearly knew your horns would come in eventually and wanted to keep you safe from humans.”

“But what am I if not human?”

“Lemme smell him,” Eskel piped up. Jaskier’s eyes widened. “I have the best sense of smell and you know it.”

To Jaskier’s surprise Geralt moved from his place on the bed and was replaced by Eskel, who smiled sheepishly at him.

“Is this okay with you,” he asked. 

Jaskier nodded, a bit shaky and uncertain, but sure that he wanted to know the truth. He’d spent over forty years in the dark. No more. Eskel leaned over, pressing his face into Jaskier’s neck, and breathed in deeply. Jaskier’s eyes closed and he had to bite back the moan that threatened to break free. Hunger roared it’s head and he felt light-headed in a good way this time. He was ashamed when he felt lust creeping up on him. Eskel was certainly beautiful, but he wasn’t the one Jaskier had been pining over all these years.

Eskel and Lambert chuckled in unison and Jaskier blushed, certain they smelled his lust. If they could smell it so could Geralt, and he didn’t want to know what the White Wolf thought about that.

“It’s okay,” Eskel said as he pulled away. “It’s perfectly normal.”

Geralt chimed in. “Is he a-”

“Without a doubt.”

“Will you two stop speaking in code and tell me what the hell I am?!” Eskel and Lambert nodded to Geralt, inviting him to take the reins. He switched spots with Eskel and, to Jaskier’s great surprise, took his hand.

“You’re an Incubus. Half, most likely. I’m guessing your biological father was full Incubus.”

“Huh. That would explain why my father fucking hates me I guess.”

Geralt frowned at that, his eyes flashing with something close to anger. He shook his head and continued.”I’m not surprised this is just hitting you now. Your ring kept your physical traits glamoured and prevented our medallions from sensing you, and you’ve been...very sexual since you were a teenager, I assume. You’ve never gone this long without having sex, have you?” Jaskier shook his head. “Do you feel a hunger that food won’t satisfy?” A nod this time. “That’s because you’ve been starving for energy, an energy you can only get through sexual acts.”

“Okay, I guess I’m with you.” He wasn’t really with him; part of him wanted to laugh in Geralt’s face, tell him, tell them all, that they’d lost their minds, and go back to sleep. Surely when he woke up the horns would be gone and everything would be back to normal. “What do I do about it?”

Silence. Eskel shuffled awkwardly, Lambert grinned, and Geralt glanced down. Jaskier’s eyes must have been deceiving him, because the man looked shy. 

“You need to have sex,” he said simply.

[whatdidimissjm]

“ i don’t need medicine.” with Whamilton and George being a stubborn ass OuO

Thank you for the prompt!! I loved writing this and it fucked up my sleeping schedule...

You can find the prompts here 

--

Let Down My Guard

Alex barely notices the change at first and brushes Washington’s paleness off as something caused by too little sleep, an ordinary thing during war, but as the day progresses, he can´t help but wonder if it´s something more. He can´t tell exactly what it is, that makes him think that, but there is something in the older man´s demeanour that doesn´t fit. He doesn´t get a moment alone with his commander, though, so there is no chance to ask him if something is wrong and he doesn´t believe that Washington would tell him the truth anyway. The worry about the general keeps him up at night and it´s long after midnight, when he drifts off to sleep.

When he enters the tent of Washington the next morning, he is pleased to see that he is the first one there. Maybe this will give him the opportunity to speak to his commander in private. Washington enters the tent only a few minutes later and now it´s clear that something is actually wrong with him. He is swaying slightly on his feet and his eyes are glassy and unfocused. Alex is out of his seat in a second, rushing over to help the other man to his chair. Washington’s skin his hot and dry to the touch and up-close Alex notices a thin layer of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Sir, with all due respect, but I think it would be best if you´d return to your sleeping quarters.”

Washington just shakes his head and clears his throat.

“I appreciate your concern, Alexander, but there is no need for me to do that. I am just feeling a bit under the weather, nothing to worry about.”

“Sir, I- I do worry about you though.”, Alex gives back, his face flushing slightly at the confession. “Surely it won´t do any harm if you´d stay in bed for one day, until the worst has passed and-“

“I said there is no need.”, Washington interrupts him, his voice sharp, and Alex has to bite his tongue to keep quiet. The older man´s features soften a bit tough, after a moment, as if he senses Alexander´s unease. “I promise you I am alright.”

“I worry about you.”, Alex repeats, quieter this time. “Tell me if it gets too bad, alright?”

George gives him a reassuring smile, touching his arm for a moment.

“I will.”

Alex nods, taking a step back.

“Is there anything you need me to do, sir?”

Washington shakes his head after a moment.

“No. You can continue with your writing.”

With that, Alex returns to his desk opposite of the general to do as he´s told, though he can´t help looking up from his writing from time to time to watch the other man, who only seems to be getting worse as the day progresses. Sometime in the afternoon, Alex can´t keep help himself anymore and gets up, walking over to Washington´s desk.

“Sir, I know you told me you would let me know if it gets too bad, but I think you should return to your bed.”

It takes a moment for George to register that Alex has said something to him and another moment for him to look up at the young man.

“I am still fine.”, George replies, but even his voice is worse than before, and barely above a whisper.

“You are not. Please let me bring you to your sleeping quarters.”

For a moment Alex thinks he will refuse and send him away, but then Washington´s shoulders slump and he nods.

“You are right. I should be in bed, instead of causing you to worry about me.”

Alex lets out a sigh of relief, stepping around the table to help George up, but he shrugs his hands off.

“I am capable of standing up alone.”, Washington informs him, and Alex takes a step back, even though he doesn´t believe him.

Alexander manages to catch the older man just as he´s about to fall over and eases him back into the chair, noticing with growing worry that the uniform is soaked through with sweat.

“So much for being capable of standing up alone.”, Alex teases, though his heart is still beating too fast in his chest.

“Leave it be, Alex.”

George sounds exhausted, his voice lacking the usual strength.

“Will you accept my help now?”, he asks, and the other man nods.

It´s a bit of a struggle to help George up, seeing as he is a lot taller than Alex, but they manage and after a minute or two, he is even able to stand on his own without Alex supporting him. Alex still stays close to his general on their way to Washington´s tent, ready to step in, should the other man need him. They manage to get to the tent without an incident though and as soon as Alex has closed the flap behind himself, George sinks down on his bed.

“I will get a doctor for you.”, Alex declares, but George shakes his head.

“I will be fine with a few hours of sleep. No need for a doctor. You are dismissed.”

Normally, Alex would do what he´s told, but this is different. Washington clearly isn´t himself right now.

“Sir, I don´t want to sound disrespectful, but if you refuse to see a doctor, I will stay here with you to make sure your sickness won´t worsen.”

“Alex, I cannot possibly ask this of you.”

“Well, it is this or you agree to let me get a doctor.”

George looks conflicted for a few moments, before he lets out a sigh.

“Will it make you feel better if you get me a doctor?”

Alex nods quickly and takes a step closer to the bed.

“Yes. I am worried about you. You-“

“Go get one then.”, George interrupts him and Alex nods.

He rushes out of the tent and makes his way to their camp´s doctor as fast as he can, trying to drown the worry and telling himself that it is only normal for a soldier to care about his general that much. That there is nothing wrong with it.

Alex waits outside of the tent while the doctor examines Washington, who doesn´t seem to be very cooperative. After not even two minutes, he dismisses the doctor with “No, I don´t need medicine.” and Alex can´t help but sigh.

When the doctor is gone, he enters the tent after a moment of hesitation. George is still sitting on the bed, though now only in his undergarments. Alex feels heat rising to his face at the sight and he drops his eyes to the floor.

“You are still here.”, Washington says, and if Alex isn´t mistaken, there is a pleased note in his voice.

“I overheard that you won´t take the medicine the doctor recommended.”

“There are people that need it more than me.”

“But sir-!”, Alex looks up with a start, but George just shakes his head.

“Come here.”, he says softly, holding out his hand for the younger man.

Alex hesitates a moment before he makes a tentative step toward the bed. He allows George to grab his hand, pulling him closer so that he is standing directly in front of him. Alexander´s heart is beating fast and loud in his chest, his skin burning where George is still holding onto his hand.

“I know you are worried, but I have fought this sickness before, and I will be fine without the medication. Though I do need rest indeed, just like you have told me.”

Alex manages a small smile, though he still isn´t entirely convinced.

“Are you still planning on keeping watch over me?”

Alexander´s face flushes at the other man´s words and he shrugs.

“I would feel better to know you are not alone.”

“Very well. But I can´t allow you to stay up all night, we will have to share the bed.”

His heart skips a beat at the prospect of sharing a bed with Washington, feelings of both mortification and thrill surging through him.

“Sir, I can´t-“

“I insist.”

It takes Alex a second to gather up the courage to nod and a pleased expression passes over George´s face. He drops his hand and Alex misses the contact instantly, though he tries to fight against it. Washington lays down and pulls the blanket over his body and for a moment Alex just stands there frozen, before he rounds the bed and sits down on the mattress.

“You want to fight in a war, yet you are afraid to share a bed with me.”, Washington says amused.

The words cause Alexander´s face to redden once more, but they also sound like a challenge to him.

“I´m not afraid.”, he gives back.

He slips out of his uniform jacked and gets into the bed, before he can overthink all of this even more. After a moment he shifts around so that he is looking at George, who meets his gaze with a soft smile on his face. Alex is unprepared for Washington to reach out for him and gently cup his face with his hand. He takes in a sharp breath and for a moment he is sure that his general´s fever must be worse than he initially thought, but even though his eyes are glassy, but there is a sharpness in them, that makes it clear that he still knows exactly what he is doing.

“I don´t know what I would do without you, Alex.”, he says after just looking at him for a few seconds.

Alex feels his heart fluttering in his chest at the words, even though he knows that Washington doesn´t mean them the way he wishes he would. He hates himself a bit for this thought, but he can´t help it.

“There are others-“

“No, there´s only you.”

Washington says it with so much seriousness that Alex can feel his throat tightening.

“Please stop.”, Alex whispers.

George pulls his hand back immediately, an expression of shock on his face.

“Alex, I- I don´t know what I was thinking. I hope you can forgive me for my behaviour.”

“No.”, Alex says, and he can see the pain in Washington´s face, so he rushes to continue. “No, I am the one who should ask for forgiveness. Because… because I…” Want this.

He just can´t bring himself to actually say it.

George seems to understand him nonetheless though, because he carefully places his hand on Alexander´s face again and Alex can´t help but close his eyes and lean into the touch. He feels the older man pressing a kiss to his forehead and a shudder runs through his body.

“Can I really have this?”, Alex whispers, his eyes still closed. “Can I really have you?”

George pulls him against his chest and Alex presses himself even closer against him.

“I´ve always been yours.”, George whispers, and Alex can hear how much he means them.

[littlekatleaf]

Love's perfect ache

Well look at that, I am alive and I come bearing fic! This takes place after "Offer me my deathless death".

But my peace has always depended On all the ashes in my wake. ~ Hozier, Arsonist’s Lullaby

When Roadhog slides out from under the covers, off to do his usual early morning routine - tea, meditation, some sorta martial arts practice with Hanzo - Junkrat doesn’t complain, just rolls over, curling closer to Lúcio. Shivers a little, but Lú wraps an arm around him and he slides back down into sleep, grounded and warm.

Chills wake him the second time, shivering hard enough to rattle teeth. Sun’s higher now, though still not a reasonable time to wake. Mystery as to why both Roadie and Lú are morning people. Be funny, weren’t so annoying. Least Roadie has the sense to grumble about it until he’s caffeinated. Not Lúcio. Bright and cheerful at the asscrack of dawn as he is midday. Or midnight. Where’d he go, anyway? Junkrat pries his eyes open, blinking against a rising need to sneeze and catches sight of Lúcio picking his shorts up off the floor. “Oi Lú, ya ain’t need to clean up after me,” he blurts, but too late.

The necklace, forgotten until just this second, slides from his pocket and onto the floor where it lays, glittering. Lúcio frowns, scoops it up. Silent as Roadie. Not like his usual self.

“I can explain.” Maybe starting to talk’ll jumpstart his brain because at the moment it’s empty and dry as the middle of the Outback. “Found it during your set last night. Just walkin’ through the crowd an’ accidentally bumped into this sheila when I sneezed. She dropped it an’ before I could catch her attention to give it back she disappeared. Ain’t no way to find out who she was.”

“She dropped it.”

Junkrat shrugs. “Guess I surprised her.” Staying closer to truth needs less creativity. Still feeling fuzzy headed.

“Really.”

“Would I lie to ya?”

“I didn’t think so.” There’s an odd note in Lúcio’s voice. He doesn’t meet Junkrat’s eyes as he drops the necklace into his hand.

Makes a sickness rise in Junkrat’s stomach that has nothing to do with the cold. Doesn’t even want the damn thing anymore. Seemed like such a good idea at the time. “All right, fine. I took it. What ya lookin’ like that for though, mate? Reckon ya know what I do. No need to be a fuckin’ prig about it.”

“I thought I knew what you did, Junkrat.” Lúcio’s still quiet. Too quiet. Junkrat prefers yellin’ and cussin’ - get it all out and over with.

“Look, ain’t like the loss is gonna hurt her. Stupid rich cunt. Reckon she got plenty more where that came from.” Clenches his fingers so tight around the fucking necklace that the stones cut into his skin. Keeps feeling like he’s gonna sneeze, and it’s got him off his game.

Lúcio shakes his head. He's gathering up his stuff - more than just the clothes he’d shed the night before. Headphones, holopad, handheld game, toothbrush. A mug. A buddha. Everything he’d brought to their room.

“Come on, what d’ya want me to do? Turn myself in? Throw myself on Morrison’s mercy?” Even as he’s trying to keep his tone arch, a pit is widening in his stomach. Gotta be something he can say, something he can do to make this right. Throat’s dry and aching and he coughs a little to clear it. Doesn’t help, still tight.

Lúcio doesn’t even look up from his backpack. Just slides in his notebook and a scarf Roadhog made him.

“Come on, Lú. She’s some suit, not even anyone we know. Ain’t no love lost between you and the suits. You really telling me ya give a flying fuck about one tiny necklace, after all the shit they done?”

Lúcio shoulders the backpack and gives Junkrat a long measuring look.

His gaze is so piercing that Rat squirms under the scrutiny. Luckily the feathery tickle that’s been bothering him suddenly spikes into a need. Almost grins but catches himself in time. He wrenches forward with a sneeze, quickly followed by two more. “Huh Iiiishew! Tsh! Isshew! Ugh. Sorry, I…”

Lúcio cuts off the apology. “Save it. I can't believe you’d use that against me. That’s a low move, even for you.”

“Wait, what?” The words hit like a fist to the stomach. Hurts enough that he actually folds his arms over his middle. He blinks, confused at the unexpected attack. “What do you mean, even for me?”

“You fight dirty, Junkrat.” Lúcio sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look. I knew what you and Roadhog did before you joined Overwatch. I’m not naive.”

“Might beg to differ,” Junkrat mumbles, unable to help himself.

Lúcio doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the interruption. “I just thought you’d changed. Thought… I don’t know… maybe that being around us, getting to know who we are and what we stand for… I guess I hoped that you’d actually changed. Guess you were just using us to stay out of prison. Mei warned me, but I assumed she was being cynical.”

Junkrat opens his mouth to argue but before he can even get a word out, he sneezes. Hadn’t even felt it coming. The usual triplicate. “Heh-Iiishh! Issh! T’issh!” Just finishes one set when another hits. “Heh T’chew! Ishh! Ah-Rrishh!” Only gets a breath or two before another washes over him. “Hih… uh’shhh! Isshew! Huh-Ashhhuh!” Rubs his nose. “Jesus, that coulda killed…” looks up over his sleeve; realizes he’s alone. “Me,” he finishes in a mutter. Lúcio’d gone somewhere in the middle of the sneezing and Junkrat hadn’t even heard the door close. Well fuck.

He should follow, confront Lúcio. Have a proper row instead of this… whatever this is. But he’s tired, still. Not sure where Lú’s gone and the thought of having to traipse all over the fucking Watchpoint to find him feels like too much work. Considers searching out coffee, breakfast, something to soothe the edgy sensation making him want to climb out of his skin. Instead he ends up sitting on the sofa, just sorta staring aimlessly at the spot where Lúcio usually kept his Buddha.

Doesn’t know how much time passes before the door creaks open and Roadhog steps in.

“You’d better fucking apologize to Lúcio, Rat.” He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, doing his best enforcer impression.

“Not so much as a ‘good mornin’, how ya feelin’?” Junkrat snaps back.

Roadhog shrugs, clearly unconcerned. “Afternoon now, and you sound like shit, so you probably feel like shit. Doesn’t make any difference.”

“You’re my bodyguard. Why’s he got you in here fighting his battles for him?” The edge of his own tone pisses him off more. “What, exactly, deserves an apology anyway? So I stole one single, solitary fuckin’ necklace, ain’t from no one he knows, ain’t none of his business.”

Roadhog just stares at him, with his fucking blank-faced mask. Times like these Junkrat wants to rip the leather from his face. Instead he clenches his fists in his pockets.

“Ain’t the necklace,” Roadhog says finally. “You tried to turn him on to get out of an argument.”

“Fuckin’ well didn’t,” Rat protests. “That’s what he thinks of me? That’s what you think of me?” Both of them. Both of them think he’s fucking selfish, that he’d use anything to his advantage, even if it hurt someone else. The understanding is worse than the headache pounding his temples. Worse than the fact that Lúcio left in the first place.

Roadhog’s still stone. And Junkrat’s nose is tickling. Because of course it is. Scrubs at it with rough knuckles, but instead of backing off like it did the night before, it just increased the intensity of the sensation. Ducks away from Roadhog, tries to hide the sneezes in the collar of his shirt.

It’s another interminable round of sneezing. When he finally catches his breath, realizes Roadhog is right in front of him. Feels Roadie’s frown, even behind the mask. Suddenly he reaches out and presses a hand to Junkrat’s forehead.

Huffs a small surprised breath. “Got a fever.”

Junkrat’s turn to shrug. “Told ya last night I was gettin’ sick.”

“Thought you were… exaggerating for effect.” Roadhog has the grace to sound contrite.

“A little, maybe.” Junkrat coughs.

“Not much, apparently.” Roadhog sighs, sits next to him and puts an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close.

Junkrat leans into his warmth, his solidity. “Didn’t want to piss him off,” he says. “Just took the necklace without thinkin’. An’ maybe I was trying to get out of trouble - don’t like to have him mad at me.”

“Not the one who needs your apology, Rat. He’s in his room.” Roadhog squeezes his shoulders once, presses a kiss to the top of his head and stands up.

Junkrat sighs and looks wistfully at the bed. Absolutely bloody knackered, but knows he won’t be able to sleep with Lúcio angry. With one last longing sigh, he heads across the Watchpoint to find Lúcio.

At first there’s no response to his knock. The ache in his stomach’s back, and he clears his throat nervously. Pitches his voice loud enough to carry through the door, but hopefully not loud enough for Mei to hear him. “Oi, Lúcio? Open up, mate.”

Still nothing. Jesus, had he really fucked it up this badly, that he won’t even answer the door? Knocks again, louder. “Come on, Lú, least let me apologize.” Shoulda brought tissues, he realizes as his nose runs. He sniffles, and as he does the door finally slides back.

To Rat’s surprise, Lúcio can pull off a look almost as forbidding as Roadhog. Might be a good bit shorter, and half Roadie’s weight, but he’s channeling the largeness of his stage presence and it sends Rat back a step.

“What do you want?” No welcome in his voice or his posture. He stands in the center of the doorway and crosses his arms.

“Said I wanted to apologize,” Junkrat says, biting off the words. Then reconsiders. “Wait, no. Ain’t how I mean it.” He tries to collect his thoughts, to say the right thing for once. “I am sorry, Lú. For stealin’ the necklace. An’ for tryin’ to take advantage of a situation…” to his utter dismay he realizes he needs to sneeze again. This time he’s got enough advanced warning to actually step back away from the doorway and turn fully away.

Starts slow, just a weirdly spaced out triple. “Huhtshh!... Tssh!.. Huh… ihhh... Tshhhuh!” They do nothing to clear the tickle, he just keeps sneezing. He loses count after nine and by the end of it his throat’s gone raw.

“Saúde, Rat, Jesus. You okay?” Lúcio’s resting a hand in the center of his back, warmth radiates out from the touch, and it steadies him. Luckily Lúcio’s also more prepared, passing tissues over his shoulder.

Junkrat blows his nose, tries to clean up a bit. “Been better. Really am crook. Ain’t makin’ that up.”

Lúcio pulls him into a hug. “Yeah, no shit. I’m sorry for saying that, I know you wouldn’t. I was just so pissed. Come on, come inside. I felt like I got hit by a truck when I was down with the cold.” Draws him into the room. The lights are dimmed, soft music playing, and when Lúcio urges him to lay down in his bed he has to resist the urge to immediately curl up and sleep.

To his surprise, Lúcio lays next to him. They both stare at the ceiling, rather than at each other.

“You lied to me, Junkrat,” Lúcio says quietly. His voice is firm. Won’t take no shit.

“I didn’t…”

“You said she dropped the necklace.”

Fuck. He did. “Just… didn’t want ya lookin’ at me like that. Like you was disappointed in me. Like you was judging me. For takin’ something from a suit. A suit who has more than enough and…” “You have more than enough now, don’t you?”

The question stops him cold.

“You work for Overwatch, you get paid, you get room and board. You aren’t in Junkertown. You aren’t alone. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

For a minute wishes he’d sneeze again, just to have something to break the silence. “And when Overwatch is done with me,” he asks, just above a whisper, “what then?”

Lúcio pauses before he answers. “That’s up to you, isn’t it? Up to you how much you change, and how real that change is.”

[justatiredghost]

Living for the Moment Ch19

A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? Read More AO3

-

The problem with coming to a sudden stop after burning himself up the way Klaus had been lately was the loss of adrenaline. That had really been the only thing keeping him going. Well, that and the drugs. Thankfully he still had some of those in his system so the ghosts were leaving him alone, because the inevitable crash wiped him out completely. He didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open anymore let alone enough to hunt down another contact to resupply.

There were a lot of things Dave had said that he wanted to comment on, mostly to ask what was wrong with him, but he just couldn’t right now. None of this felt real. He’d never had someone so determined to stay in his life, and all he could do was wonder how long until he came to his senses. But that was a problem for future him. As most things were. Right now, Klaus just wanted to sleep.

Not that he got much before they were both jolted awake by a car backfiring. The early commuters were likely out, so they had to leave, but Klaus felt so much worse than he had before. The exhaustion, the aches and pains, the ugly bruise welling up on the side of his face where he’d been punched, and to top it all off, he was pretty sure he had a fever.

“Hey, you okay?” Dave asked when he noticed, and of course he had to be all sweet, rubbing his back and everything.

“Oh yeah, sure, all good here,” Klaus said, trying to suppress a violent shiver at the early morning wind icy cold now that Dave wasn’t pressed up against his side.

“Shit, I didn’t give you my cold, did I?”

“What can I say? Petty theft is one of my charms,” Klaus joked, because he didn’t like how worried he looked.

“I wish I could repay the favor and find a place for you to warm up and sleep it off, but— hang on, I have an idea. Come with me?”

Dave stood and offered his hand, and Klaus considered it. He thought about trying to ditch him again, or just refusing to move. But he was too tired to be stubborn and petty, so he decided it would be easier just to go along and he let himself get pulled to his feet.

Usually, Klaus would be more nosey about this, but when Dave left him outside the shitty motel, he just stood there and waited while he went inside to talk with someone. He surprised himself, honestly. He must be really bad off. At least Dave didn’t keep him waiting long.

“Wow, you really do look like shit,” Dave said when he returned, actually able to get a good look at him now that the early morning sun was starting to make its appearance.

“Still hot though, right?” Klaus said.

“Mmm, feverish and attractive,” Dave joked. “You might be overdoing it a little, might want to tone it down a bit.”

“Have you met me?” Klaus replied.

“Well,” Dave continued, unlocking one of the motel room doors on the first floor. “The good news is, a buddy here owes me a favor. She said we can have this room, but gotta be out of here by tomorrow evening.”

“She is a saint,” Klaus said, stumbling inside after him. “I am going to take a 6 hour long bath, so if you need to pee, you better do it now.”

“No, go ahead,” Dave laughed. “I’m actually going to step out for a bit. I have some other stuff I need to take care of. But I look forward to seeing what you look like all pruny.”

Klaus waved him off with an annoyed sound. He turned on the water as hot as it would go and was ready to soak up all that warmth and wash away the grime. By the time he finally climbed out of the bath, he didn’t feel so frozen. Sure, he still felt like shit, but it was better than nothing.

-

For once, Klaus slept like a rock, so he wasn’t all that surprised when he came to, desperate for a glass of water, to discover Dave was asleep in the other bed by the door. On the way back from the bathroom with a cup, he had the sudden impulse to crawl into Dave’s bed and join him, but tried to block that out and just go back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, it was to hear the shower running. Dave was no longer in the other bed. A midnight shower wasn’t all that strange, though, so he let himself fall back to sleep. But when he woke up again a little over an hour later and the shower was still going, Dave still missing, he started to get a little worried.

Well, more curious than worried. Yes, this definitely wasn’t worry. These types of places weren’t really known for having unlimited hot water and he actually wondered if Dave had been the one to ditch him this time. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stumbled out of bed, pausing at the bathroom door to knock.

“Dave? You alive in there?” he called, but didn’t get a response. “I’m coming in. I swear I’m not doing this just to check you out naked.”

As he slowly opened the door, he noticed that there wasn’t as much steam as he thought there would be. The mirror wasn’t even fogged up. When he turned to the tub, the curtain was pulled back just enough that he could see Dave sitting there, letting the water fall over him, still wearing boxers and a t-shirt. His arms were raised as if to protect his head, fingers digging into his hair.

“Dave,” Klaus called again, concerned now.

Dave flinched as soon as he spotted him, but at least he relaxed when he realized it was just Klaus. Then, he scrambled to turn the water off before sitting back, out of breath and just trying to regain his bearings.

“Hi,” Dave said guiltily. Then, he looked down at himself and sighed heavily, picking at the way his shirt stuck to him uncomfortably. “Aw, man. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“Would it help if I also got in with my clothes on?” Klaus offered.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dave sighed, not completely able to stop himself from smiling despite everything.

“Your loss,” Klaus said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly one to judge, I was in here for a criminally long time earlier, but typically I don’t think showers are supposed to last very long. I’m surprised you haven’t run out of hot water.”

“Ah,” Dave said, looking away. “I think I may have, actually.”

“May have what?”

“Run out of hot water,” Dave said, and as if to prove his point, a particularly violent shiver ran through him.

“What the hell?” Klaus said. “You should probably get out of there. Only one of us is allowed to be sick at a time, and I already called dibs.”

He passed Dave a towel as he clambered out of the tub. Then, he left him so he could have a little privacy to change while Klaus wandered around the room in search of any extra blankets stashed away. Dave was already back in his bed when he returned, so he unceremoniously dropped his spoils on top of him before selecting one to unravel sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I swear I don’t take all my showers clothed,” Dave said, forcing a chuckle as he followed suit, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey, whatever does it for you,” Klaus shrugged, and Dave smacked him playfully with one of the folded blankets.

“I really am sorry about all this,” Dave groaned after they finished with their work, burrowing deeper into the pile of blankets, still shivering.

“What, hogging all the blankets? I guess I can forgive you.”

“Well, yeah, I guess there’s that now, too,” Dave chuckled. “But I more meant, just, all of this-- my little breakdown. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but I still get flashbacks and nightmares sometimes. Showers help, they can kinda ground me I guess, this one was just particularly bad, I guess.”

“Oh,” Klaus said dumbly, not really sure what to do with all that openness. Except run, but he’d already tried that and failed.

This all hit a little too close to home; the nightmares and the flashbacks, the whispered confessions in a moment of vulnerability. In Klaus’ experience, it never went well. He knew Dave was just like this, so much more open than Klaus could ever imagine being, but it still sent a chill through him.

As irrational as it was, he didn’t want Dave to learn the same way he had. At least Klaus didn’t have any plans to betray him, so he might as well encourage him to let it all out now.

“Do you, like, what to talk about it or something?” he said uncertainly. “I heard it’s supposed to help. I mean, I know that’s rich, coming from me of all people.”

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” Dave said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll laugh at me.”

“Okay, well, now you have to tell me,” Klaus said, climbing onto the bed so he was laying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, head in his hands.

“I, uh, went to talk to someone today,” Dave said slowly. “About getting support. For vets.”

“That’s good, right?” Klaus said, trying to be encouraging.

“I guess,” he said, eyes sliding to the side, avoiding Klaus’ gaze. “It’s just frustrating, it feels like admitting defeat. But I can’t even hold down a job, something’s gotta change.”

“That’s the spirit?” Klaus said uncertainly. It wasn’t like self-improvement was his specialty. But he could definitely understand the guilt that went with asking for help. Which is why he never did.

“Unfortunately, it’s bringing up a few too many memories. And, when I’m stressed, I have nightmares, so that doesn’t help,” Dave added lamely, trying to laugh a little.

“There, there,” Klaus said, sitting up so he could reach out and pat his shoulder. Taken by surprise, Dave burst out laughing and Klaus couldn’t help but grin, pleased he could still make him laugh, even when he was upset. “If it helps, wearing clothes in the shower is nowhere near the top 10 weirdest things I’ve found people doing in the bathroom,” Klaus said unhelpfully.

“Still,” Dave said, before changing the subject. “But enough about me, how are you feeling? Sorry again for giving you my cold.”

“I might learn to forgive you one day,” Klaus said dramatically, hand on his forehead.

“Hey,” Dave said. “I was thinking, and I realized that I just kinda made you come with me here, sorry about that, too.”

“Yes,” Klaus said, again playing it up. “How dare you force me to sleep in a proper bed for a change?”

“You know what I mean,” Dave said with a weak smile. But then his voice turned serious. “I know I was probably a bit too much before, probably creepy too, tracking you down like that. I just want you to know that, if you really don’t want to be here, I’d understand.”

“What’s the matter, starting to have second thoughts?” Klaus asked. “I am a handful. Being friends with me is gonna be a nightmare”

“Seriously,” Dave persisted. “How about we meet up in a few days and talk it out? I’ll have at least a few more answers once the VA get back to me. I know everything feels impossible right now, but being your friend is worth it, to me. But if all of this has put you off, then feel free to make a break for it. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Sure,” Klaus said distractedly.

Dave nodded and turned away, pulling the blankets up nearly over his head.

Klaus had never been told he was worth it before. He’s never been worth anything and he didn’t know how to feel about all of this. He thought he could feel something melting in his core, a warmth reaching him that he never expected to feel. But there was guilt, too. So much guilt.

How was this even happening? Dave was a pretty smart guy, but he just seemed to be ignoring all the warning signs. Maybe Klaus had tricked him into this somehow. He was very good at manipulating people. But, for some reason, Dave kept coming back, there was no denying that. He wanted to trust him, to believe in Dave even if he couldn’t believe in himself, but he knew how dangerous that was.

Klaus felt cold, again, when he went back to his own bed, moving automatically. Mostly he just felt numb, completely drained. And he was more lost than ever. Maybe he was just too sober, maybe drugs would wipe it all away and remind him who he was. Or, maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d wake up one day and hate himself, wondering what would have been.

Hating himself wasn’t anything new, but when he glanced over his shoulder to see Dave’s curly hair sticking out between blanket and pillow, he so desperately wanted to give hope a try.

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

On assumptions, understanding, belonging and love.

Moments in Martin's journey understanding other people and finally himself.

or

Martin's journey in understanding, accepting and loving his asexuality.

a/n: some quick notes: Jon is sex repulsed, Martin is somewhere between neutral and favorable. While Tim and Sasha dont exactlty say they are aro they are! Jon is non-binary and uses he/they pronouns and i desperatly wanted to explore that but this is already twice as long than intended-

also while I am (half) Bolivian and speak spanish I am not at all fluent in Tamil so if there is any mistakes lmk! hope you all enjoy!

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

Sasha had convinced them to go get drinks together, as it had been a rather stressful couple of weeks since Martin came back from the siege of his apartment by Jane Prentiss.

Sleeping in the archives was not exactly helping the situation for Martin, or Jon for that matter.

So they decided to go to a pub and try to force a sense of normality everyone really needed.

Martin was having a great time, with the relative calm and safety he hadn’t had in a while, even Jon had something like a smile playing on his lips as Tim told a story from one of his university mates that had accidentally thrown his roommate's engagement ring down a drain. 

Martin zoned out for a bit, enjoying the pleasant buzz of the alcohol and his friends laughter and Jon’s animated movements that indicated that he was talking about something he actually found interesting.

 Jon was apparently telling his own story with some relation to engagement, something about a girl at a wedding that had acted strangely, Martin caught something about “purposely spilling wine on her dress”, which Martin agreed was quite wierd. 

“She was totally trying to woo you, Jon.” Sasha said as Jon got to the bit where they had to help her find some clean towels in a storage closet. 

 “I assumed she was just having a rather hard time,” Jon said, seemingly only now thinking of the implications of spilling wine on your dress and then faking needing help, to be fair to Jon that was a very weird tactic to pull and Martin would not have put two and two together either.

“Well what did you do in that closet then?” Tim asked with an incredibly over the top suggestive look. 

Jon pulled a face then, Martin thought it looked rather endearing really with his nose all scrunched up and his eyes narrowed, but he was clearly uneasy. 

“I don’t- I don’t really do… that sort of thing.”

Martin snapped back in the moment, feeling a weird but familiar anxiety in his stomach as the conversation lulled. He felt rather protective for a moment, instinctively knowing this seemed important. This turned out to be rather unnecessary, as Tim spoke up again quickly.

“Oh,” He and then, earnestly, ”I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Jon.” 

And then Jon smiled, properly, like he didn’t often and waved his hand dismissively but pleased.

“Thank you, well it's not like you could have known that, but anyway as I was saying-” 

 It was but a moment, but it stuck with Martin for a bit, mulling it over and not really understanding his own reaction.

 Eventually Martin settled back into the pleasant buzz, enjoying his friends chatter and Jon’s over exaggerated hand gestures.

-

It was an uncharacteristically slow day in the archives, not a worm in sight and Martin had only a bit of boring research to do for a very clearly fake statement.

Martin usually tried to be nice about it but this one featured a guy named “Richard Dickson” and was entirely about a fever dream someone had about a haunted accordion, he had listened to the recording that Jon had emailed him and it sounded like even he was having a very hard time trying not to laugh at it.

“Who comes up with this stuff?” Sasha said as she handed him back the statement. “Sure, I know we are being attacked by a worm woman but I really hope we can draw the line at haunted accordions that play spooky renditions of High School Musical and a prophetic dream guy called Dick Dickson.”

She was laughing too and Martin thought that she looked better than she had in awhile, it was nice, seeing her like this. 

“Well at least I won’t have to stay extra time for the research of this one, I would go home early but.” he shrugged and gestured in a you know the whole staying here cause of a worm woman situation, she gave him a sympathetic look.

“Well I am leaving early, got a very fun evening planned.” she said with a wink.

She had looked really rather excited and somewhat giddy all day, Martin realized. 

“Oh,” Martin said, “Who is the lucky person then?”

Sasha looked at him puzzled for a few seconds, slowly blinking at him, then the penny dropped.

“What? Oh no, I mean- Tim I guess, we usually have a sort of movie night every once in a while, this one is extra special though, because I found this book about the categorisation of demons, it’s partially in latin? Tim said he would help me look into it. ”

Martin felt his face heat up, feeling the urge to profusely apologize, Sasha continued however:

“It’s not like that though,” she said with a rather annoyed look, and then somewhat softer, “I am not really a dating kind of person, you know?”

Martin wasn’t sure he fully understood what she meant, but that was fine and she was clearly still very excited, so he relaxed.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have assumed, I do hope it’s not one of those books Jon goes on about, they aren't exactly...friendly.”

Her eyes lit up once again.

“Oh it's definitely not a Leitner! I do look out for that sort of thing, the interesting thing about the book is though-”

And she went on for a bit, the moment somewhat unimportant in a way but it still churned in Martin’s mind. 

-

Things with Sasha...shifted after the Jane Prentiss attack, everyone had different ways to cope with trauma of course, Martin knew that.

Maybe that was the thing really, while Tim, Jon and Martin himself were having a hard time processing (even if Tim and Jon refused to properly acknowledge it) Sasha seemed fine, a few weeks of being shaken maybe and she was now back to her regular old self. 

She even had a new boyfriend, Martin had no idea why that irked him so much.

He’d said as much to Tim, who was sitting next to him while both slacked off from their jobs on the stairs to the back courtyard of the institute (why there even was a courtyard was one of the great mysteries of this place).

Tim looked uncharacteristically solemn, seldom did he let his walls down like this. 

“I thought I was in love with her you know,” he said rather suddenly, “I mean we’ve been friends for years now and there was- is no one I would rather spend time with, so I mean if not her then- then who?”

He sighed and Martin made comforting noise, trying not to break whatever spell had made Tim genuinely speak about his feelings. 

“I mean I figured out I wasn’t in love with her before this whole...thing, we talked about it, I think? Some stuff is hazy. Just- I shouldn’t be jealous you know? She is allowed to have a boyfriend.”

“Your feelings are valid no matter what they are.” Martin said seriously.

Tim sighed and leaned into Martin, who enveloped him in his arms.

“Sure, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though.” 

And well there wasn’t much Martin could say about that.

After a bit of comfortable hugging silence Tim spoke up.

“Maybe her boyfriend is a vampire though, I totally get to be jealous about a vampire.”

“Tim don’t say that.” he said, trying to hide a smile. 

“What?” Tim said, pretending to be serious, “Everything is possible Martin, worm women and all that, I could obviously not compete with a vampire and their sexy glittering skin.”

Martin shook his head, not able to contain his laughter anymore.

“Can’t believe you are exposing yourself as someone who watched Twilight.” he said.

Tim smiled wickedly up at him from where he was still half cuddled into him.

“The fact that you got that reference exposes you in turn,” he said, sticking his tongue out, “Check mate.”

“Touché.” 

Then Tim stood up and said: 

“Well, Time to go back to our trans containment zone.”

“The fact that we just happen to be trans and were transferred to the archives is a coincidence.”

To that Tim only answered: “Trans-ferred Martin, can’t you see? You cannot call that a coincidence.” winked and back in through the door he went. 

Martin let out an exaggerated long suffering sigh.

Back inside they walked to their respective desks.

“Well lets hope work gets lets shit.” Tim said. “That’s such a low bar, and yet.”

“Paciencia y fé.” Martin said, which was in his repertoire of spanish phrases that just didn’t pack the same punch in english along with “ya pasara” and “digamos que si”.

Tim shrugged.

“Don’t think whatever grandmother made up that phrase could have imagined it being applied to our situation.”

“And yet we still have to hope for it to get better don’t we, see it works.”

Tim flashed him one last smile as he sat at his desk and Martin went to put on the kettle.

-

Martin had assumed Jon’s I-don’t-do-that-sort-of-thing included dating as well and it hadn’t bothered him really, he enjoyed clinging to his crush to Jon like a small steady comfort, even if he knew it wasn’t actually going to amount to anything, there was no harm in day dreaming after all and Martin was perfectly capable of caring about him as a friend too, it was harmless.

Of course the fact that he now knew Jon had been staying at his ex-girlfriends place and the fact that Jon might actually date people didn’t really change anything.

At least that is what Martin tried to tell himself as he shakily poured two cups of tea and mustered the courage to walk to Jon’s office. 

And he was at least a little right, even if Jon dated people, even if Jon would return his feelings (which Martin really did not let himself dwell on), these were particularly unfavourable circumstances to start a relationship, there was the matter that neither of them was able to string together a conversation, because the mundane ones sounded so inane and hollow and the important ones required being genuine and vulnerable and they might just be somewhat allergic to that. 

And there was the matter of the impending apocalypse they had to stop.

Martin knocked on the door and he heard a soft: “Come in, Martin.” from the other side of the door. 

The office was a mess as always and Jon looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and had aged about ten years in the last few months. 

But Martin’s breath caught in his throat anyway because, as was usual for Jon now, he also looked just a little more...comfortable, as you could anyway. They were wearing a hoodie with cats on it that was just slightly too big and a long flowy patterned skirt. 

Jon clearly caught martin staring because he ran his hand through his hair a bit self-consciously and said: “I know it goes against dress code, but I think you get a pass after you get kidnapped by an evil circus.” 

“Oh I mean, you look nice, I mean it looks nice on you. I didn’t mean to uhm, stare?”

“It was- I was just joking.”

“Oh.” 

They just stared at each other, painful silence falling over them. 

Jon broke the silence clearing their throat.

“So... you brought tea?” They said.

“Yeah, it's for you.” Martin said and immediately cringed because who else would he have brought Jon’s favorite chai exactly the way he always takes it.

Jon smiled though, reaching out to take the cup from him. Their hands brushed just a little and Martin's brain briefly shut down and he realised that maybe he should admit to himself he was really hopeless and too far gone.

That is though, how he ended up stupidly staring at Jon’s hands and how he spotted the shiny black ring on the middle finger of his right hand. 

“Thats a nice ring, don’t think I have ever seen you wear jewelry before.” 

That seemed to snap the tension out of the moment a little, Jon looked down at the ring and smiled a little.

“It's an ace ring,” they said, “I used to wear it a lot a while back, not sure why I fell out of the habit, but now I guess I think I am allowed whatever small comfort I can get.”

They were looking at the ring and then at Martin. 

Martin wanted to freeze the image right there, at the small not quite guilty smile Jon had as he looked up at him, at the feeling that things were OK, good even just for a bit.

Then something fell off Jon's desk and they both startled, flinching at the sudden loud noise. 

All the worry and tension flooded back into the room immediately.

“Right.” Jon said. “Did you need anything else?” 

Martin wasn’t sure how to even answer that.

So he just shook his head and started to leave.

Just before he was about to turn around Jon called his name, Martin turned around to face Jon that seemed to be fighting for the words he wanted to say.

“Yes, Jon?”

“Thank you.”

Martin smiled a sad smile.

“Anytime.”

-

It’t not that Martin had never heard the word asexual before, or that he didn’t know Jon was ace, he’d just never dwelled much on the actual meaning of it.

He had however never heard of ace rings before and he gave it a google for curiosity's sake. 

A black ring usually wore on the right middle finger to indicate the wearer is asexual (“ace”). 

It seemed nice to Martin, small token of your connection to a community, of course his curiosity did not end there, he had assumed previously Jon didn’t do relationships at all, and if he did, what did asexual mean then?

He found out rather quickly that asexuality was about sexual attraction, and aromantic was another thing all together, he also found out that asexuality didn’t mean a person couldn't have a libido, or like sex.

And maybe he just stood there staring at his laptop screen for a while knowing that sexual attraction had never really made sense to him, maybe it felt like something clicked.

And so knowing he definitely did not have the time or the emotional energy to deal with it he quickly closed his laptop, he had an apocalypse to stop and a boss to dispose of after all.

-

Martin was trying very hard to read Hija de la fortuna by Isabel Allende, every other sentence he sighed and grabbed his phone to look up a word the meaning of which he didn’t know.

It was frustrating, he once had been almost fluid in spanish as a child, but then his dad had left and his mother wasn’t able to and didn’t want to maintain his fluency. He hadn’t exactly had time or money for classes either and so now he attempted to regain some of it by watching movies and reading books.

It was not just the language of course that made it hard, Martin was so entirely full of worry. It was rare he got to spend a day in his flat these days, usually cooped up in the Institute hiding from something, or at the side of Jon's hospital bed talking to him, reading to him on occasion.

The anxiety, the fear, the pain, it had festered into Martin, the tiniest sounds made him jump and even when he got tiny little moments in which he wanted to, needed to, rest he still felt like a watched prey animal, or the full force of grief threatening to crush him.

Today he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, nothing remarkable had happened in a handful of days and it made him uneasy, he was waiting for Melanie to call him about a new attack, he was waiting for Peter to summon him with a weird cryptic request. 

And you would think that with all this other worry he wouldn’t be fretting about his sexuality.

But apparently there was plenty of anxiety to go around for all the areas in his life and he just couldn’t get that moment, months ago now, out of his head.

He sighed at set the book aside, grabbing his phone and opening google.

He felt like he was 14 again asking his mother what gay meant and getting only a nasty look in return, or 17 and anxiously looking for a book about being trans in the library. 

It was silly to look it up and read articles about how to know you were ace, because he already knew somewhere, but he desperately needed the confirmation.

The third or so blog post he opened was about a woman in her 50’s that had recently figured out she was ace.

Its freeing  the article read it’s freeing to be who you are and to understand yourself better, even if you aren’t sure, its OK, it will be OK.

Martin was only crying a little, he laid down his phone and stared at the wall.

He thought about how he had never quite fit, he wasn’t quite english, not with the people asking him where he had come from or asking his mother as a child where she had gotten him from. He wasn’t Bolivian either, he had never been there, his spanish was limited, he could only cook about three and a half recipes that the internet had taught him.

He had never been a woman and he would never fit what society thought of as a man. And what that exactly meant for his relationships.

He never understood other people, but he never thought he was bad enough to seek help for it.

Sexual attraction was vague and he didn’t get it, but in the few relationships he had had in the past he hadn’t minded sex, he enjoyed watching a nice movie together just as much but there was a nicety to it, especially taking care of someone else, having them unravel infront of you. And he had found it weird that he didn’t want anything back, that he felt uncomfortable sometimes.

He imagined he meant he was wrong, like with everything else Martin Blackwood also couldn’t do that right. 

But maybe there was something here, in Martins corner of human experience, in the small stack of books about Bolivia that he read, in the trans pin on his backpack and patches he sewed onto his clothes, in calling himself gay man even if that didn’t cover the nuances because it felt good, in the chew necklace that hung around his neck because it eased his anxiety.

Just like all of those things, Martin was ace, he wasn’t wrong or broken he was just different and there were all those other people who were different too and it was nice. 

And Martin was crying because of the overwhelming sense of belonging, and because he finally understood Tim when he had once asked “But what does romance even mean, Martin?” and he would never get to tell him, because this is yet another thing he and Jon could have talked about if the world had been kinder to them, this is something he could be talking about to Jon if he wasn’t in a coma.

But even in these miserable circumstances Martin made sense to himself a little more and no one could take that away from him.

-

The past week in the safehouse had been a whirlwind of emotions, but both Jon and Martin were trying, trying hard to heal, to learn how to feel safe again, to love each other.

For all that trying they hadn’t talked about it much, it was hard still, but Martin was quietly holding on to the hope that they would get there.

Today had been quiet, with the biggest setback being that Jon had found it hard to find all the ingredients for the sambar he wanted to make for dinner. 

“I know it won't be like my Pāṭṭi (பாட்டி) taught me, but you would think they would at least have coconut.”

Martin found their grumpiness adorable, reveled in the mundaneness of this worry. And he hadn’t been able to contain his laughter when they finally had found coconut and Jon had held it up triumphantly.

The food had been delicious and now they sat on the couch, it was hard Martin craved touch so dearly but it was like stepping into hot water after standing on ice for a while and Jon flinched so often, not used to not being hurt and sometimes Martin’s unnaturally cold skin brought up unpleasant memories. 

They could have wallowed in guit and yearning, but they were both stubborn, and so even if it took a while and millions of slow movements and asking if something was OK they managed. 

So it was that Jon had his legs draped over Martin's lap, enough to bring comfort, not too much as to be overwhelming, and their hands were lightly on top of eachother.

Jon seemed pensive, but not worried, Martin shot him a questioning glance.

“We went at this in such a sideward way,” Jon said, “I mean we live together now but we haven’t really...talked about it. We never- we never asked?”

There was a beat of silence where Martin just looked at Jon and then a smile spread over Martin's face.

“Jonathan Sims do you want to ask me out?”

Jon averted their gaze in a way that meant even though Martin couldn’t see it they were definitely blushing.

Martin just couldn’t contain his delighted laughter.

“Must you laugh at me,” Jon said, faking offence, he was also smiling now.

A bit of seriousness returned to his voice as he spoke up again.

“I don’t care that we have done it all backwards Martin,” they said, “But, I love you.”

And as he said that Martin stared at him, mouth agape and his heart thundering in his chest, he lost his ability in any language. Jon said it firmly and securely and Martin really didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all the feelings he had, Jon continued however. 

“And we don’t have to do anything but it just feels like we are dancing around several conver- Martin? Are you alright?”

It was only then Martin realised he was crying and he could only ask:

“You love me?” 

Not because he didn’t know, but because sometimes you just need the confirmation.

Jon squeezed his hand gently.

“Of course I do.”

Martin wanted so badly to answer him, to reproach but he couldn’t, not yet, instead he blurted.

“May I kiss you?”

Jon smiled, a tad nervously.

“That's sort of what I wanted to talk about,” they said, “boundaries?”

Martin understood the necessity of such conversations he really did, but it did not mean he was going to enjoy them.

It did come as a surprise however that Jon suddenly got very nervous and said.

“I mean- I just- I am ace, Martin.”

Martin cokced his head in confusion and said:

“Yeah, I know.”

Jon mirrored his confused look.

“You do?” and then more sour, “You listened to the tape?”

And fine Martin admitted to himself, maybe they should talk more.

“No? You told me, like ages ago.”

Jon laughed, relieved, happy.

“Sorry,” he said, “Ironically my memory is foggy. It has been a rough couple of...years.”

Martin hummed something of affirmation, because he also knew this seemed like a nice moment to come out, and he felt the very familiar anxiety in his belly. Idiotic anxiety because Jon was also ace and there were no stakes in this situation at all. 

Maybe it was just the fact that he had never said it aloud.

Martin heard himself speak:

“I think I am too,” and he could hear how stupidly nervous he sounded, “ace, I mean.”

There was a vague ringing in his ear and if he had been in the position to he might have just run out of the room, apparently facing down unknowable monsters didn’t make coming out easier.

His fear was cut down by the fact that Jon was absolutely beaming at him.

“That's great!” they said, “I mean not that I would have minded if- but it is nice to have someone understand, that's all.”

It was, it was amazing to have Jon here smiling up at him holding his hand and understanding him.

“It really is,” Martin said, then gently bringing the back of Jon’s hand to his cheek and leaning into it, “Doesn’t mean we don’t have to talk boundaries though.” 

Jon smiled at the small gesture and then said serious:

“I don’t want to have sex, ever.” 

Martin knew it sounded like people had tried to debate them on it before and it made his chest ache.

“I know,” he answered and then because honesty was key, “I am not adverse to it, but obviously if you don’t want to, we won’t, ever.”

Jon sat up a bit then, lifting his hand from Martins and gently cupping his cheek. Martin's pulse quickened, his hand moving almost automatically to Jon’s arm.

“How do you feel about kissing?” he asked.

“It's nice,” Jon said, smiling a bit cheekily leaning forward,  “So long as it isn’t tongue kissing that is.”

Martin leaned forward until their breaths mingled at their lips where all but touching.

“May I kiss you then?” He asked, breathless.

Jon could only nod and they both leaned forward the last inch.

Time must have stopped for a bit as they kissed, gentle and full of a thousand promises. 

They both moved away from the kiss gently, they were both tearing up a little, Martin felt so much so strongly and he pulled away from Jon completely.

“Just need a moment.” he said and smiled at Jon's reassuringly if a bit shaky. 

“Take all the time you need,” Jon said and then softer, “Anything you need.”

And Martin was sure he had never loved anyone more. 

-

On the fourth day of their third week in Scotland Jon had gone to run some errands in town and had come back with an incredibly nervous air about him they were sitting across from Martin at the table twirling their hair and checking his pocket every once in a while.

It was making Martin incredibly antsy and by the third time Jon had looked like he wanted to say something only to then go back to the crossword he was definitely making no progress on Martin had had enough.

“Sol mio,” Martin said, very much enjoying Jon’s wide eyed flustered he always got when Martin called him pet names. “Will you please tell me what is wrong.”

Jon looked at him sheepishly.

“There is not something wrong, per se.”

Martin gave him a look.

Jon sighed and stood up, grabbing a small box from his pocket. 

“Nothing is wrong I just… bought something for you beloved.”

Martin very nearly had a heart attack when Jon opened the box and there was a ring inside. Upon closer inspection it was a beautiful black ring and Martin understood. 

There was silence as Martin could do no more but stare at the ring and then at Jon.

“I see how a ring might come over as a gift now,” Jon rambled nervously, “it is not like that- I mean that is something we will have to talk about. I was afraid it would be too much? It is engraved too and I just hope I didn’t-”

Martin cut him off: “Jon let me see it properly.” 

Jon handed him the ring.

Martin lifted the ring out of the box and saw the engraving on it.

 நான் உன்னைக் காதலிக்கிறேன். I love you. Te amo.

Martin promptly sat down again, it was so sappy, just a tad ridiculous and stupidly cute. It hurt in his chest and tears stung in his eyes.

“How did you know I wanted one?” he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck self consciously and said:

“You were talking a few days ago, about how you would like something like a- like a token, to remind you and I thought an ace ring might be nice.” 

They lifted their right hand.

“We match now.” 

Martin silently moved to put the ring on, it fit perfectly. He ran his fingers over the tiny groves of the words on it. 

An anchor. 

A small reminder that he belonged, here in the world, here with Jon. 

Martin stood up and gently enveloped Jon in a hug.

“Thank you,” he murmured into Jons hair as he placed a small kiss on top of their crown. “It’s perfect.”

[sparklingchan]

Checkmate || Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) X Bang Chan

Word count : 14k + ( oops-)

Warnings: A few cuss words , suggestive, mentions of death / murder / beheading and blood.NOT PROOF READ I’M SO SORRY.

Genre : Fluff, angst, romance ,strangers to lovers , Alice in Wonderland au, Royal au(a tiny bit) .

Description: Alice in Wonderland is just a story , or so you were made to believe.

A/N: This story is loosely based on the story of Alice in Wonderland. I always wanted to write Chan in a fictional universe and FINALLY I AM DONE WITH THIS STORY! I have twisted a few facts from the original story to fit my plot so not everything is the same.

Enjoy!

Weekends have had a special place in your heart ever since you were old enough to understand the importance of the last two days of the week in a normal human's life. For a long time , weekends meant going out with friends , partying, camping , eating , relaxing. Weekends meant your mom's scoldings in the morning , the sound of your dad's old radio, your brother's laughter. Weekends meant happiness.

But for sometime now, these definitions have changed. Drastically . Now weekends mean finishing presentations, cleaning your room , washing dirty dishes in the company of the empty corners of your solo apartment. Weekends now mean loneliness.

"Yes ,mom. I have been eating the herbal medicine you sent." You were never able to lie to your mom as a kid or even as a teenager. But the adult 'you' could easily do it. Lying to your mom was as easy as breathing now.

"Are you sure,y/n?" She asks in a stern voice.

You look at your small dining table , at the herbal medicine packet that lies there, as good new. And you let out a tired sigh , pressing your phone closer to your ear.

"Yes."

It had been an exceptionally tiring day at work today. And as you flop down on your couch with your mom still on call ,you wonder why you were feeling this sudden tiredness - all you did today at office was listen to your new boss boast about her achievements and your annoying colleagues kissing up to her as if she were some kind of Messiah.

"Aren't you coming home this weekend?" Your mom's tone now changes. She sounds worried, almost sad, "Dad and I miss you so much. Minho comes home often but we rarely get to see you."

Your eyes fall on the family picture hanging in the wall in front of the couch. It was the summer of your third birthday. Your mom and dad sat on the carpet while you and Minho stacked up legos to make a multi coloured house. The smile on your faces splash a wave of nostalgia towards you and you accept it wholeheartedly.

"I miss you guys too but I don't think I'll make it ,mom. I'm so sorry. " you say with a suppressed yawn, "But I will be going over to Minho's on Sunday so don't worry. We'll facetime you guys then." You feel your eyes get heavier but for the sake of your mom and your empty stomach ,you try your best to not fall asleep.

"Okay, okay. Sounds good. " your mom replies, "See you soon. Love you ,baby. "

You smile at her cheesy yet sweet words. Your mom has always been a fluff ball, just like your dad. But you and your elder brother didn't inherit that sweetness, sadly. "Love you too, mom." You reply.

And then the line goes silent.

You close your eyes, just to rest for a moment before having to cook dinner and working on your next week's presentation. But your eyelids feel like they suddenly weigh a lot more than they did a few minutes ago, like they were made of lead and you couldn't even lift them for a second more.

And before you know it, you've already drifted off into dreamland with your office clothes still on and your empty stomach growling.

For some reason , you'd always been a morning person. You've never had trouble waking up for school or college or work on time, where as your friends and colleagues were all heavy sleepers - they could sleep even through earthquakes.

You remember as kids ,all of your mom's friends would complain about how their kids wouldn't get their asses up for school in the morning and needed to be practically dragged out of bed while your mom just smiled and nodded in response. You probably adopted this habit from Minho ; he might be an annoying idiot most of the time but you have to give him credit where it's due.

And when your eyes open a few hours later, naturally , you expect it to be a bright , sunny morning.

But you're disappointed to see that it's still dark outside.

The lights of your living room are still on and the television is playing some stupid movie in the background , just the way it had been when you came back home from work and switched it on. Rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you look at the clock on the wall. 3:45 AM, it reads.

"Goddamn it," you push yourself off the couch ,still groggy from your nap, your whole body aching . You grab your phone and office bag and waddle to your bedroom ,in hopes of finishing your much needed nap.

The hallways of your house are dark but familiar so it takes no time for you to find your room's door. Groaning , you close it behind you and walk towards your bed, a homely , comforting feeling enveloping you like a soft blanket. The lights of the room are switched off as usual , and the cold air of the room makes your skin tingle. You smell your signature perfume in the air and the room freshener you use, and surprisingly, a very strange, foreign smell that you are sure you had never smelt in your house before - the smell of grass and mud on a rainy day.

"What the-" you mutter to yourself as your mind finally starts functioning properly again , coming out of your post nap trance and all your senses suddenly switching to high alert mode.

It wasn't raining right now ,nor had it been raining in the evening when you came home so there's no way that this smell was carried in by you. You remember seeing droplets of rain run down the office windows during your lunch break, which means it had rained only a little bit during afternoon. Did someone enter your house in the afternoon?

Your heart starts hammering against your chest. Something feels wrong ,very wrong.

And you quickly realize you were right - because the moment you take a step away from your bed , your feet gets stuck onto something and you crash on the floor. Face down.

"Ow, shit - WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT?"

Turns out ,your feet didn't get stuck on a 'something ' , it was rather a                  ' someone '.

In all honesty, you had never seen a man as handsome as the one that lies on your bedroom floor right now, his hands and feet sprawled out as if he were sleeping on his own bed, his lips parted and hair damp. And if it weren't for his slow , steady breathing and the flush across his cheeks , you'd have almost thought he was dead.

You want to scream. And you do.

You should have called the police the moment you saw him, you think , but you didn't- more like you couldn't.

You are scared obviously, as you frantically check all your lockers and drawers to make sure he hadn't stolen anything. You check his pant pockets but find nothing. You even consider calling your brother but something was stopping you from doing so .

There is something about this man - maybe his extra silky looking clothes , maybe the weird pendant around his neck or maybe just the mere gut feeling that he might actually be the victim, not the criminal - that just wouldn't let you pick up the phone and call the authorities, even though you have their number on speed dial.

"Can I get another slice of bread ,please?" You snap out of your thoughts on hearing his husky, honey-like voice, call out to you, only to realize that you'd been staring at his face as if he were an alien.

Maybe he is an alien....

Embarrassed at being caught red handed, your cheeks flush as you nod your head and pass the man sitting on your dining table,right in front of you, his fifth slice of bread. Damn, he must have been starving.

"Thank you ,miss y/n." He replies with a polite smile, applying butter on the bread with the butter knife Minho had left at your place on your last birthday.

You want to return his smile ,you really do, but you can't find it in yourself to keep your curiosity suppressed anymore. You've never been so intrigued by a living,breathing human before, not to this extent at least.

A few hours ago, when he woke up after you dragged him off from the floor and laid him on your bed, you half expected him to attack you with a weapon or strangle you or threaten you for money but all he did was politely ask if you were the owner of this 'warm and cozy ' house and your name. He even called you ' a kind lady ' when you offered him breakfast and medicine for the slight fever he complained of , out of nothing but pure curiosity and intrigue.

"What was your name , again, sir?" You ask , putting down your chopsticks after deciding your breakfast wasn't that important anymore ,"and where do you come from?"

He sits up straight, the smile on his lips slowly dissolving into a frown. Did you say something wrong?

"I'm Bang Christopher Chan. But I usually go by Chan, " he answers the first part of your question and when he notices your anticipating eyes ,waiting for him to answer the next part , he looks down at his plate, as if embarrassed. "I wish I could tell you where I come from ,my lady ,but I can't and you wouldn't believe me either way. "

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion ; first of all ,this man - Chan - ends up in your room, passed out and sick , secondly he wears such expensive looking ,vintage clothes and lastly, the man speaks as if he were an actor in a Shakespearean play and now he refuses to tell you where he comes from.

He is feeding into your alien theory a little more than you expected.

"Well we won't know that unless you tell me." you reply with pleading eyes, curiosity getting the best of you. He shakes his head and presses his lips together in a firm smile, dragging his chair across the floor and standing up, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

You only watch in awe as he walks towards your main door in strange yet elegant steps. He turns around to look at you, "I express my heartfelt gratitude for everything you've done for me, my sweet lady. You gave me shelter and food and your magical herbs cured my sickness. I will never forget this favour of yours."

Magical herbs? Is he talking about your mom's herbal medicine?

You gulp, not knowing how to reply to his sudden expression of gratitude. With an INTP personality type, you've always found it hard to express yourself to people around you, even if your life depended on it and this time isn't any different either.

"W-well it was my pleasure." You stutter, "But where are you going now anyway?"

He runs his fingers through his silky , fluffy blonde hair and licks his dry lips. "I'm going to look for a friend. He might be able to help me."

"How will you find him? Do you have his phone number or address?" You ask. He shakes his head, "I'm afraid not. What's a phone number, by the way?"

Your eyes widen at his question, your mind running wild with possibilities of what might actually be going on with Chan. You've only ever seen things like this in movies and shows - a random person with no memory whatsoever meets the main character and they set out on an adventure together. And as curious as you were to find out whether Chan brings adventure with him too , you didn't want to get yourself involved in something so messy.

"It's a number via which you can contact people using this device." You say , showing him the led screen of your phone.

His mouth gapes at you , his eyes shaking with curiosity.

Oh this one is a gone case ,you think.

"I'll help you find your friend. What's his name?" You ask him again.

Still in fascination with your phone , he barely whispers his friend's name but thankfully you catch it,

"Lee Felix."

You hate driving . Period. Especially on weekends when the roads are full of impatient cars going off to picnics ,goods trucks trying to finish business as soon as possible , two wheelers which are the location of all the PDA in the world. You aren't used to seeing such happy traffic.

But here you are ,driving this mysterious yet charming man to his friend's place.

Lee Felix ,as the internet tells you , is an owner of a medicinal shop and is pretty well known among people for his homemade medicines and ointments. It only took one tap on your search engine to find out his location.

"So who exactly is this friend of yours?" The car has been quite ever since you left your apartment and you couldn't take it anymore - not when Chan just sits beside you , his fingers tapping on his leg with anxiousness.

He looks up at you , "He's more like a little brother to me , honestly. I grew up with his family - playing with his friends and his siblings. But he moved out of our hometown to do business. He still comes home sometimes but lives here most of the time. "

Now, that's the kind of information you'd been seeking for since the morning. He's slowly but surely warming upto you.

"So you're here to take him home or what?" you ask.

He shakes his head with a grim expression. "No, of course not. I wish I could but he is happy here , tells me he has a lover now and lots of friends. I'm happy for him. And anyway ," he pauses for second , "I'm here to hide. "

You find your heart race at the last word. He's hiding, but from what? From who? Is he a criminal that is trying to save himself from punishment? Or something worse?

Shit. This is not a good idea at all.

If your brother were here , he'd have flicked your forehead so hard it would have hurt for days. Maybe you even deserve it this time.

"From what?" You ask ,your voice only a whisper.

He sighs ,leaning against the window and looking out with thoughtful eyes.

"I really can't tell you, my lady." He replies.

Before you could question him further ,you see a house emerging in the distance and immediately recognize it as Lee Felix 's home plus workshop. Reluctantly, you pull over in front of the huge wooden house.

"How do I open the door ?" Chan asks with an innocent smile when you're about to get out. You let out a small chuckle and put your hand on your own door handle, "Press the black button here and push the door gently. " You demonstrate and he picks it up quickly, joining you as you stand on the porch of this Felix dude's house.

Chan knocks on the door with urgency, and for the first time today, he seems a little relaxed now. Like a weight from his shoulders had been lifted, and you don't have the heart to tell him that there's a doorbell directly on his right.

You hear quick shuffling behind the door and within a second ,the door opens to reveal a man - probably Felix - with bright orange hair and a big smile.

Brothers , you remember Chan's words.

They really do look like brothers as Felix jumps on Chan,embracing him like he had just saved his life. You don't miss the quiet sniffing from Chan and the tears that accumulate in Felix's eyes as they pat each other on the back , mumbling ' I missed you's to each other.

"I was so worried, Chan." Felix pulls away , grabbing Chan's shoulders, " I thought you'd gone to Marmoreal . Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

The name Marmoreal rings a bell in your head ,for sure. You'd heard that place before many times but as you search through your memories and try to find the exact context of that name , you fail to find it. It feels like you'd heard it almost in a dream.

"I just arrived here last night. Wasn't a very pleasant ride ,if you ask me. " Chan says , giggling.

Felix giggles too and then his eyes land on your confused face , as he let's go of Chan.

"And who might this fair lady be?" He asks with a pleasant smile.

Brilliant. Another actor from a Shakespearean play.

"Oh,right," Chan chuckles. " This is y/n, the kind lady who let me stay at her house for the night. "

No,he ended up in your room out of nowhere, you want to say ,but you swallow the words. You didn't want Chan to think of you as rude.

"Hello, Miss Y/n. " he smiles, " You've done us both such favour by housing him. We will not forget this. " Felix says, bowing his head to you.

Awkwardness is what you feel as you force a smile and nod in response,your palms sweating from the unexpected words , "You're welcome,I guess. "

Felix leads the two of you inside the house and you are greeted by a lovely young lady, who looks about your age - Felix's lover ,you assume.She walks in with a freshly baked cake in her gloved hands, her eyes shining the moment she sees the both of you.

"Oh,my dear." She runs to you , " Prince Chan! I have heard so much about you. Felix talks about you all the time. And oh,my, who's this lovely lady?"

Prince Chan .

Prince Chan.

Chan is a prince?

You look at him ,your eyes wide with confusion and doubt and he looks back at you with a nervous expression, like he didn't want the girl to address him as a prince.

"Yeah, " Felix clears his throat, raising his eyebrows at the girl in front of you , as if asking her to keep quiet. "This is Chan and the woman who provided him shelter last night- y/n."

"Oh my apologies," she replies with a smile, probably getting Felix's message, "Hello, Chan, Y/n, I'm Felix's girlfriend, Tracy. " She says as she clings on to Felix's arm and he stares adoringly at her like she is a rare ,precious diamond that no man could ever have but him.

You've seen that look before - in your parents eyes when they tease each other , in your brother's eyes when he talks about his boyfriend , in your ex boyfriend's eyes. You almost feel jealous.

"Hello ,Tracy." Both you and Chan say at the same time and then awkwardly stare at each other.

Tracy giggles.

"Anyway, Chan and I have important things to talk about. " Felix wiggles out of her grip and takes Chan by the arm ," Tracy, my love, would you please see to it that Miss Y/n here is not bored."

And Tracy surely did make sure you weren't bored for a single second.

She takes you into their medicine workshop, showing you the different herbs and fruits and vegetables they use to make the herbal medicine. She shows you the various jars full of these medicines and ointments. Her eyes shine with passion when she talks to you and it makes you realize how happy this makes her.

It is not an hour later,when she offers you a slice of cake and a cup of coffee that you find in yourself to ask Tracy about Chan and Felix and whatever happened back in their hometown.

"Ah,right. Their home." A sad expression falls on her ,as she stirs her coffee, " I wish I could tell you , I really do but unless Felix or Chan ask of me , I cannot do it."

The same response, again and again. "But I'm curious..... and scared." You mutter.

Tracy clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth ,"Sweetie, I know you are and I don't blame you. But it is not my place to decide if I can reveal a secret or not....yet I can tell you this- Chan is not dangerous or anything of that sort. He's in fact the one in danger, in need of protection. "

Shocked, you stare at Tracy ,not being able to form proper words. Your prediction was right, Chan was in fact the victim.

You feel chills down your spine.

"Do you come from that place too?" You ask again.

"Oh no, I wish , sweetheart, I wish but no. I'm from this city itself. Born and raised. " she replies with a slight chuckle.

You want to ask her if Chan and Felix had come from a different planet but you stop yourself just in time when the boys arrive into the workshop.

"I'm afraid we'll have to bid them farewell now, miss y/n." Chan says with a sad smile and you wonder if he said that to console his own self.

"You've been so ,so kind to Chan. I would just ask you to do one last thing for him -" Felix starts, " Can you please drop him at the Levanter hotel ?"

Your forehead creases with confusion, "Why ? Will he not be staying with you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He'll be easier to find in my house out of all the places. He won't be very safe here." Felix admits, embarrassed.

"Then he can stay at my place. He doesn't have to live all alone." Your mouth speaks out those words without giving a second thought to the idea of Chan actually living with you - you said you didn't want trouble but here you were ,being a big ass hypocrite.

"Well I don't see a problem with that, "Tracy chimes in , grinning, "and besides ,I like to believe that Chan would rather enjoy your company than be alone."

Your cheeks burn red as Tracy yet again puts you and Chan in an awkward place. His eyes are fixed on your face while yours are everywhere but him.

"Its settled then. " Felix says as the couple escorts you and Chan to your car. And just before you drive off, you hear Felix say to Chan, "I think we can trust the lady. Tell her about Underland. Tell her about home."

You love listening to stories. You remember your dad telling you and Minho stories ever night when you were kids and how you found it difficult to sleep without listening to his stories. Stories make you happy, they make your mind wonder about the infinite possibilities in this vast universe and how you happened to be where you were at the exact moment when the story was told.

Stories fascinate you .

With a voice as serious as your dad's, Chan starts, "I and Felix come from a far, far away place called Underland. You humans might know of it as Wonderland because of that one writer who stumbled upon our kingdom one day and decided to write a stupid book about it." He almost sounds angry when he speaks the last line.

"Anyway, I and Felix belong to Underland, which was ruled by the First Great White Queen's descendants for centuries. But everything changed when my grand father - The Last White King passed away. My father were to take the throne by blood right but then a blood descendant of the First Red Queen arrived and claimed Underland as hers. She killed all remaining members of the White Queen's family, my parents, my brothers and sisters," he pauses for a second ,blinking away tears. Your heart clenches with sadness , "But she couldn't kill me; I was just a baby. The youngest of them all. So she banished me to the Enchanted Forest forever ,to live with The Hatters which was Felix's family. In the forest , I grew up with his siblings - Sana, Momo , Me and Felix were inseparable. And we played with the Dormouse , the Cheshire Cat, the White Rabbit , March Hare all day. It was lovely, almost like a dream. Never once did I want to live a royal life or desire my rightful throne back - I was happy. But when I turned twenty , the Queen wanted me to marry her daughter so that she could tighten her claim over the throne. I couldn't do that , I couldn't marry a woman I did not know and did not love. So my friends used their magic and helped run away from the Queen and her Red Knights. And that's how I ended up in your house. "

You blink a few times as everything comes crashing to you at once - his sudden appearance in your room, his weird clothes ,his accent ,his strange walk ,his cluelessness about the modern world , and Tracy calling him a Prince - he is a Prince. A Prince of a place you didn't know actually existed, a descendant of A Queen you'd only heard about in books and movies.

Marmoreal is the name of the White Queen's home , now you remember.

Wonderland was real. As real as you and Chan and Felix and Minho and Tracy. It very much exists .

"Y/n, please do not fear me,I beg of you. You can ask me anything you want but I want you to know that I will not harm you. I am your friend. At least I want to be. " he says , putting a hand on yours as your mind snap backs to reality.

You straighten up.

"Questions , right." you say, still blinking more often than you needed to .

"So the Red queen and the White queen are real? Like they're not just that Writer's idea?" You ask.

"Oh ,they are, I assure you. They were sisters but enemies, which led to the evil Red Queen's banishment centuries ago. Their descendants never got along with each other."

You nod, gulping hard. So the scary Queen with the big head was real. Brilliant.

"And The Hatters , are they the family of the Once Mad Hatter?"

"Yes, they are."

"Aren't they all mad?"

He chuckles, leaning closer to your face, "Darling, they're only as mad as you and I."

Your heart beat gets stuck in your throat , stopping you from asking him anything anymore.

Taking it as the end of the conversation Chan bids you a quick goodnight and heads over to the guest room you had given him.

But he stops just before the door, leaning against the door with a grin ,"Oh, by the way, my lady ,you might not want to skip that herbal medicine on your table anymore."

You frown, "Why?"

"I wasn't lying when I said they were magical - Felix makes them after all."

Oh, what a small fucking world!

The next morning, Bang Christopher Chan claims that he makes very ,very good morning tea that will give you a boost that normal ' human ' tea could never.

"Take one sip and you will crave for more, " he tells you as you provide him with the basic ingredients and watch him from the opposite side of the counter , making this supposedly mind blowing tea.

Now, to be very frank ,you weren't much of a tea person - you've only had boba a few times and the proper ,traditional tea only on the few times that your dad makes some. You were more into coffee. But you didn't tell him that.

You see Chan lean over the boiling pot of water on the gas , adding tea leaves and a little bit of cinnamon and then half a spoon of ground ginger. You observe him , your curiosity bubbling like the boiling water.

"Are you going to add ...magic too? " you couldn't help but ask the question as Chan stirs the mixture in front of him.

He chuckles , a warm , hearty laugh that lights up the lonely and cold corners of your small apartment. His eyes turn into crescent moons and his deep ocean dimples as he walks towards you and softly boops your nose , "Yes, of course! How would it be different from your normal tea otherwise?"

You see him walk back to the pot and then rub his forefinger and thumb together above the mouth of the pot , "Watch this ,my lady." You stare at him with shock as a sparkly , golden dust snows down due to the friction of his thumb and forefinger and gets mixed with the boiling tea.

And when the first sip of the freshly brewed,warm tea touches your lips and travels inside your mouth, you feel an explosion in your brain that you'd never felt before. You feel like there are literal fireworks in your head ,burning and cracking and fueling your energy levels. You want to run out on the roads and scream on top on your lungs for no goddamn reason.

"Chan, I didn't think I'd say this ,but this is the most delicious beverage I've ever tasted." You say , booping his nose like he did before, " Thank You."

In the evening , you take him out for shopping after calling Minho to cancel your plans with him. You told him that an old friend of yours was visiting from Australia and that he would be crashing at yours for the next few days. Minho didn't care much , as usual ,and all he said was, "Don't get pregnant." You remember rolling your eyes at his annoying remark.

So now here you are, scrolling through your phone while Chan tries on different clothes in the trial room.

"I do not like the shirt that shows my arms!" He yells from inside as the employees of the store giggle.

You sigh, " It's called a tank top,Chan. And I'm buying it whether you like it or not, it's summer for God's sake!"

You hear him mumble something under his breath and then the door of the dressing room creaks open to reveal a very different Chan. You can't help up but gawk at his perfectly toned arms and the very evident biceps that you did not expect to be there. You gulp hard. With his tousled hair and perfect smile and gorgeous eyes , he looks like a Disney Prince, the ones you used to obsess over as a child.

He is a prince, you dummy, you remind yourself again. Prince of Wonderland . (Underland, whatever)

He awkwardly hugs his arms around his body as the cool air from the AC grazes his bare arms ,his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

" Hey, chin up !" You grin , and walk toward him.

He presses his lips in a line and mutters ,"I look ugly."

"No, you do not look ugly ,Christopher. You look anything but ugly ," you glare at him, "You look amazing. Just like... Park Chanyeol. "

His forehead creases and you see a ghost of jealousy in his eyes, " Who is that? Your lover?"

You laugh out loud, patting his cheek softly. " No, he is a...famous person. In our world. Just like you are of your kingdom."

You decide to take out Chinese food for dinner and even though you want to ask Chan if he was okay with that , you don't. Because he probably doesn't know what China even is .

"Do you want me to carry that bag for you?" Chan asks ,pointing at the take out bag on your lap as the both of you settle down in the backseat of the cab you had called. You wince as you realize how badly your feet hurt from all the shopping and snacking.

"No , thank you. Plus you have enough things to carry yourself." You reply, eyeing the tons of bags he carries, containing clothes and shoes and whatnot.

The drive to your house is long , owing to the fact that the city becomes more livelier at night - a scene you rarely get to see with your own eyes anymore, thanks to your stupid job. The cab driver plays a slow, romantic song and you automatically find your eyes scan Chan's face, looking for something that could help you relate to the song booming through the speakers.

But all you see is worry.

"Chan, are you alright?" You ask him, placing a hand on his arm.

He looks over at you , his eyes shining like the city lights that you hadn't seen in so long, " You're a very kind person ,my lady. I do not know how I will ever repay you for this; any of this! "

You feel a warm feeling spread from your chest, coursing through your veins and under your scalp and your ears.

"You can repay me by making that tea for me everyday. " you reply with a soft smile.

Chan scoots over closer to you ,then puts his head on your shoulders, " Well then I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I take a short nap - I owe you this one too."

You blush and look away from his captivating gaze ," Fine, whatever. Just make the tea for me. "

You know you want to add something but you swallow those words and repeat them only in the company of your own thoughts.

Thank you ,Chan , you think as you look out the car window ,cherishing the beautiful streetlights and the tall buildings and the neon signs of shops and the gentle pressure of Chan's head on your shoulder , Thank you for making my weekend less lonely.

Chan is a man of his word, you can guarantee that - An honorable , honest man who almost seems too good to be real sometimes.

As promised , he'd make you tea every morning for the next two months before you go to office while he spends most of his time in your house, trying out different things to keep him occupied while you were at work - learning how to use your spare laptop , cooking tutorials on YouTube , videocalling with Felix , practicing magic on your plushies, online window shopping because he apparently loved the way people in your world dressed.

He'd wait for you every evening with another interesting thing he had learnt and wanted to share with you , and a plate of freshly cut fruits that he prepared beforehand. Then you'd both make dinner together and spend the rest of the evening talking and laughing and gossiping .He would tell you about Underland and it's castles and magic and you would tell him about your world and how a stupid picture on the internet could go viral in a split second.

On weekends, you'd make a hearty breakfast for the both of you and then clean the house together,which Chan never once complained about. By the time evening comes, you would have already chosen what movie to show him while the popcorn cooks in the microwave. Or sometimes you'd spend the day at Felix's or sometimes drive down for a small picnic at a park.

Slowly but definitely, Chan becomes a part of your everyday life , your source of comfort, your escape . And he ,in turn , finds a caring friend in you , a teacher , a person he could lean on . Knowingly or unknowingly , you become his escape too.

It is on one such Friday night that Minho calls you during your movie session and you excuse yourself from a weeping Chan ( the movie you chose was Titanic) ,walking towards your own room.

" What's up?" You say into the phone as you jump on your bed .

"Are you seriously asking me that? Y/n , it's been weeks since mom or dad or I saw you. You keep cancelling plans for your Australian friend. Do you think I'm stupid?" He yells at you and you move your ear away from the speaker. Gosh ,talk about being so loud and annoying.

"He's coming home after years, Min. I can't just leave him here."

He sighs, "What kind of a friend stays over for two fucking months. " then adds ,with all seriousness, " is this some Christian Grey shit going on?"

You laugh - you have to ,even though you know your brother is pissed off ," Dude, do you even hear yourself ? I earn ten times more than that Anastasia bitch did. I don't need a sugar daddy."

"Then what's going on with this guy ? Tell me the truth ,y/n . You know I'll believe you." His voice now softens.

You sigh, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows.

Not this time ,you wouldn't believe me, you want to tell Minho.

But then decide that if you can't tell him the truth ,you could at least tell him half the truth.

"Look, Minho...my friend is not here for a vacation. He's here to hide. He's in possible danger. " you whisper to him.

"What kind of danger? Y/n,what if he's running from the police? What if he's in trouble with the government?" He asks,his voice filled with concern.

You hated the fact that he was so similar to you . And he had the audacity to call you adopted for so many years. Asshole.

"No, silly. Not that kind of trouble. He ran away from his engagement. The bride's mother is a bitch apparently ,trying to force him for his money and fame. "

You hear Minho heave a sigh of relief from the other side and naturally, you relax too.

"Well then if you can't leave him alone ,bring him along to our house. I'd love to meet this Australian guy in person."

And that was the end of the conversation.

When you live with someone , you find new things about them everyday - today is the day you find out that Chan looks exceptionally attractive in a tight black polo t-shirt and simple jeans. His blonde hair is pushed back a little, his forehead glowing under the bright Sunday sun and he wears a watch that Tracy and Felix had gifted him last week. Handsome as a Greek God.

"How do I look ?" He asks you as he scratches the back of his neck, smiling at his reflection in the mirror.

He's gained confidence .

"Like a Prince." You say, standing beside him.

Your eyes are focused on your reflections in the mirror,the close proximity of your bodies and the way you both look like any other couple in the world, makes you feel overwhelmed. You see the few millimetre gap between his hand and yours and if you reach out a little bit, you could easily lace your fingers with him.

"And how do I look?" You ask him with a small smirk.

He scans your image ; you wear a simple floral summer dress with short sleeves ,along with a pretty wrist bracelet and a simple pendant around your neck. You catch him blushing.

"Like a Princess. " he replies.

You badly want to hold his hand in yours. But you don't.

The drive to your Brother's place is filled with questions and replies and a few careless teasings thrown here and there.

"I hope your brother doesn't hate me for keeping you occupied all the time. " Chan comments when you turn to Minho's apartment street.

You shake your head, " No,no. Of course not. Minho is not like that."

Your brother has lived with his boyfriend, Jisung for about five years now . You want them to get married soon but they always make weird excuses about it. So you just assumed they enjoy this live in relationship without the pressure of marriage and children.

"Hey , y/n, oh my god! Long time ,huh?" Jisung hugs you tightly the moment you enter their living room ,his big toothy smile permanently plastered on his face. Minho stands behind Jisung ,his arms crossed over his chest and his critical eyes focused on Chan. You smile and jog up to your brother, wrapping your arms around him. His familiar scent makes you miss home and your parents and your old room. "Stop being so stuck up,Min." You whisper to him as Chan and Jisung introduce each other and Minho eyes them suspiciously.

He chuckles and hugs you tighter ,pressing a small kiss to your head. You grin as he pulls away.

"Chan,meet my brother Minho, " you bring Chan to stand in front of Minho , "And Minho ,this is Chan." Minho observes the way Chan walks - elegant and smooth and the way Chan talks , like he were a dude from the Victorian Era yet he wears modern clothes and uses a phone and air pods. Everything about this man is mysterious yet Minho couldn't find anything to hold against him. Perhaps he is being too hard on the poor man. He also notices how lovingly Chan gazes at you , looks out for you in the smallest possible ways and you look at him with the same adoration and concern. Were you two dating? You didn't say anything about that though.

So he asks you after dinner ," Do you like Chan?" The question comes out as natural as any other question Minho has ever asked you. You look down from his balcony at the streets and cars and people below then your eyes fall on your brother and the wine glass in his hands and on Jisung and Chan who chat inside the living room over dessert, having found a common interest in music making and lyrics writing.

Your blood turns cold - not because Minho had asked you that question but because this is the first time you're actually considering the possibility of that being true. It scares you.

You think about a similar incident that had happened almost ten years ago - when you were in middle school and Minho was in high school. You had a crush on your cute classmate but he chose your friend over you. Even at that tender age,you were heartbroken. No one at home noticed your sadness or disinterest in everything those days but Minho did - he always does.

"I don't know ." You lean against the railing of the balcony , "I don't want to think about it."

"Why?"

"Beacuse we do not belong together. We're from different worlds. " you whisper , "And I'm not sure if he feels anything like for me."

Minho frowns at you then flicks your forehead so hard that it stings.

"You keep suppressing your feelings all the time, y/n. You wouldn't know if he likes you or if you belong together if you don't tell him." He says.

You do know that you do not belong together. You do know that he may never like you back. But you don't mention it to Minho.

That night , as you are driving back home and Chan is sleepily looking out the window,you ask him , "Chan, there's something I have to ask you."

Chan sits up straight ,his attentive eyes focused on your nervous ones. He could sense your turmoil since you stepped out of Minho's house. He nods ," Go on."

"Um...actually, Jisung's cousin is getting married on Wednesday. Would you like to be my plus one for the ceremony?"

You'd never seen Chan smile so wide before, his eyes practically disappearing in the process. His cheeks tinted red and his hands tapping on his thigh .

"Do you want me to?" He asks. He hopes more than anything that you say yes.

" Hell yeah,dude! " You reply, chuckling.

He has never hugged you till now , you realize, as Chan jumps and wraps you in a warm embrace ,even as you are driving. Your heart hammers against your chest and your cheeks turn brighter than his own.

His smell fills you with a comforting ,homely feeling and you just hope he never lets go of the hug.

Remember when you said that Chan looked really good in a polo t-shirt and you thought it couldn't get any better? Well you take your words back now.

Your hands go limp by your sides when you see Chan walk out of his room , as you stare at him from the small crack of the door of your room. He looks ethereal. He wears a black suit with a pink, silky shirt inside paired with his locket and his watch. Nothing too fancy and yet you feel your knees growing weak below you.

You suck in a deep breath,looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to gather enough confidence to walk and face him. You wear a pink net shirt with black palazzo pants, accessorized with silver earrings and a rose gold ring on your thumb.

"Okay, come on ,y/n." you encourage yourself, your heart beating fast.

You had not really expected him to drop his jaw on the floor the moment he sees you but he did and it makes your heart flutter and cheeks red.

He offers you his hand, "You look gorgeous ,my lady."

And you slip your hand in his ," So do you ,your majesty."

The wedding venue is not really far from your apartment so it takes only about 30 minutes for you to reach there.

And rest assured, you both had turned all the heads in the wedding that night. Wide eyes and gaping mouths and silent whispers of jealousy, you noticed them all. You felt a little bad for stealing the spotlight from the bride and groom but you secretly wanted to show Chan off too.

"Attention grabbers." Minho had teased you during the wedding ceremony as the bride and groom took their vows , earning a pinch from you in reply.

The rest of the evening goes by smoothly and before you even realize it, Jisung pulls you and Chan to the dance floor when a slow,romantic song comes up.

"Uh. I don't know how to dance." You admit shyly as Chan offers you his hand.

He chuckles and you notice how deep his dimples really are this up close.

"I can so don't worry about it. Just trust me. " he says, his eyes scanning your face

Smiling, you take his hand and put your other hand on his shoulder while he drapes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He indeed is a good dancer because soon you find yourself gliding around the dance floor effortlessly, flowing with the music and drowning in Chan's intoxicating eyes.

"This isn't so bad though." You comment when the lights are turned low and you see all the couples around you in their own bubble,doing their own thing, just grooving to the soft music ," I could get used to it."

Chan pulls both your arms and wraps them around his neck ,his hands finding a comfortable place around your waist.

"You should come to Underland some day. We could dance there all night. No one would disturb us." he whispers back,moving your bodies gently to the music.

Your smile fades , " I wish I could,Chan. I desperately do. "

He looks into your eyes and leans in closer, making your heart thump fast. Faster than it ever has.

"You can. You can come and go whenever you want, I promise you. " he says.

You nod at his efforts of making you feel better but you know that when he finally goes back to Underland, your heartache would be inevitable. You are so deeply ,madly and truly in love with the man in front of you that you will not be able stand a day without his warm presence in your otherwise dark and cold house. His absence would absolutely destroy you so you simply bury your face in the crook of his neck , breathing in his smell , enjoying his hands on you and sketching this moment in your mind forever.

"I'm going to miss you when you leave." you mutter in a silent voice as he runs his fingers through your hair , "Don't go,Chan."

You don't know why you're suddenly getting so emotional about him leaving when you always knew it would happen some day.

"Then come with me ,y/n." He whispers into your ears.

You pull away just enough to look into his eyes and then shift your gaze to his oh-so kissable , plump lips that you'd spent so many nights dreaming about.

Is this the right thing to do?

You no longer care.

He leans in first ,pulling your body towards him and softly yet hastily pressing his lips against yours.

Oh the bliss of having to kiss the man you've longed for since forever.

You're not even surprised when his lips fit perfectly in between yours as your whole body turns warm under his touch , like it had been waiting for him for a long time. And when you hold his cheek to control the pace of the kiss , you realise how much this means to him. How much you mean to him.

"I love you, Chan." You whisper after he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

He grins," I love you ,too."

The wedding ends shortly after but you guys stay back to wait for Minho and Jisung while they bid farewell to all of Jisung 's family and relatives.

"Be quick. " you tell Chan when he rushes into the boys washroom while you wait outside, your mind still replaying the intimate moment you had on the dance floor ( and Minho and Jisung teasing you about it later on). You shake your head ,smiling like an idiot.

Your beautiful thoughts are interrupted when someone- a tall ,muscular man wearing a peculiar red tuxedo - walks past you, bumping his arm harshly onto yours.

"Ow,dude,what the fuck?" You wince ,rubbing your arm as the arrogant asshole walks into the bathroom, "Piece of shit." You say when he doesn't even bother looking back at you.

You are about to go back to reminiscing your kiss with Chan but you hear a Chan yelling from the bathroom, his voice is as crisp and clear as the air in the mountains.

Your whole body goes cold.

"Get away from me !" You hear him yell and before you could stop yourself ,you feel your feet running into bathroom , pushing past the main door that clearly reads 'Male'.

"Chan? What's wrong?" You ask, your voice laced with urgency and adrenaline pumping through your blood.

What you see inside is something you'd never expected to see before but you were in love with a man who came from a place you didn't even know existed so this doesn't come as a big surprise to you. If Chan weren't in immediate danger, you might as well have been fascinated by it.

You see - Chan crouching on the floor , blood running from his nose and his hands covering his eyes , as if he's hiding. You see - the red tall asshole leaning against the wall, staring at Chan. You see - three very peculiar creatures surrounding Chan , shaped like the rummy cards with spades, diamonds and whatnot drawn on them and holding spears in what you assume to be their arms.

You almost regret coming in when all of them look at you with wide ,surprised eyes.

"Y/n! What are you doing here?" Chan gets up and walks toward you ,his lips quivering with fear.

The card creatures walk toward you,their spears pointed toward you as they growl something under their breath. You back away slowly.

"Hey! Stop it! She has nothing to do with it. Don't attack her." Chan yells at those things and thankfully ,they listen. They turn around and stand beside the asshole in the red suit.

Chan runs over you , tears starting to form in his eyes, "You shouldn't be here , y/n. Go back,now!"

You look into his eyes , your heart breaking at the sight of seeing him so in pain ,so vulnerable. It's like you're hurt ,too.

"D-did they do t-this to you?" You ask,pointing at his nose.

He blinks for a second then nods with a sigh ," That's why I'm telling you to leave ,okay? Y/n, sweetheart, please leave.Now." His voice is basically begging you and all you can do is stare at him and the others with horror.

"They found you. The Red Queen found you." You mutter to him,as he holds you by your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry ,y/n. I really thought...we had time. I really did. " his voice cracks as more tears stream down his face.

"We don't have all day long , Chan. Your future wife and her mother have been waiting for a long time." The man in red says sarcastically, "You've kept them waiting long enough."

You glare at the man then turn to Chan, who's a sobbing mess by now.

"They're going to get you married?"

The man in red scoffs, " He should be lucky if that's all they do. And knowing the Queen , she is very angry with him. He will not have it easy."

"Will they...execute him?" You ask ,running your hands over his face ,rubbing the mixture of blood and tears. Your heart shatters.

"No, the young princess is very fond of him actually. They will get married after he serves his punishment."

You see Chan wince in your arms as you pull him up in a crushing embrace. Probably the last one ever.

"I can call Minho and Jisung. They could easily take care of these bastards." You whisper into his hair, blinking tears away.

He clutches into you as if you were the only thing keeping him completely losing his mind.

He shakes his head, " No, don't, please. I cannot let more people get involved with me."

You pull away from the hug, just like you had on the dance floor, but it's different this time - more painful .

"Is there anything I can do...to stop this." You ask again ,desperate to not part from the man you've grown to love so bad.

He kisses your forehead,then holds your face in his hands. "I do not want any harm befalling you ,or your brother and Jisung or Felix or anyone of my friends in Underland, which is why I have to go and face my faith. I'm so sorry ,my love."

You let the tears flow.

Why was the Universe so unfair to people who deserved to be happy together? Why did the universe always favour those who mean ill to others?

"I love you ,Chan , remember that. " you say , " I always will."

He smiles through his tears, "and so will I. Always. I don't care if I am married or you are married or whatever, you're my princess till the end of Earth and till the end of Underland."

The asshole in red clears his throat, glaring at the two of you. Chan pulls away from the embrace and walks back to where he was originally when you came in.

You see all of them taking turns to drink from a vial with a purple liquid in it.

"Farewell,my lady." Chan whispers as a tear drop rolls down his face and falls on the floor with a soft splat. And in the blink of an , he is gone ,leaving behind nothing but a puff of golden smoke and his tear drop on the floor.

That's when you realise how real all of this is. And realise why exactly you didn't like the story of Alice in Wonderland as a child - its because the story is not a typical fairytale where the prince ends up marrying the princess, and because some day or the other, Alice had to leave everyone behind and come back to her real world.

You feel like it's been an eternity since you have been walking through the crowd of people in the wedding , people looking at you with disgust and fear, while you look for your brother or Jisung.

You enter the main hall and scan the room , sniffing away your tears and rubbing your bloody hands on your shirt.

You are a mess.

Finally ,you spot Minho in the far corner of the room ,speaking with a few guests with Jisung by his side. You sigh in relief but your body responds in the form of sobs.

You rush towards him and pull him by the end of his shirt, "M-Minho."

Jisung and Minho turn around ,their eyes widen at your crying, shivering , bloody sight .

Jisung immediately wraps his coat around you.

"Hey,what happened?" Minho demands as he pulls you in a hug ,and you sob into his neck, " Where's Chan?"

You feel Jisung rub your back soothingly.

"T-they got him ,Min. They took him and they punched his nose and it was all bloody and horrible and he was crying. Those things were so scary and ..." you say in between sobs, "..they'll punish him for running away and then marry him off, Min. I couldn't protect him."

"Who is them, y/n ?" Minho ask, rubbing your tears with his thumb.

"The Red Knights."

Jisung and Minho share a look of confusion with each other but they don't push you to explain your words.

"Okay,let's go home. We can talk there okay? Nothing will happen to Chan. We'll save him."Jisung says .

You shake your head , "No, we can't go home. We have to go to Felix. He's the only one who knows what to do. You guys can't save Chan without magic."

They want to believe you and whatever you say and they're worried about Chan too ,afterall both of them were so fond of him but they find your words rather hard to digest.

Nevertheless, your brother drives you to Felix's house.

His house once made you feel happy and complete but now it makes you feel horrible, like the freezing cold sensation you experience when you play out in the snow for too long.

And as you sit around his dining table , telling him about the incident and then him further explaining the whole story of you and Chan to Your brother and Jisung , you feel horribly empty.

"I'm so sorry ,Felix. I should have done something. I should have called out for help but I was so...scared. " you say , Tracy rubbing your back in comfort.

"Its not you fault, Y/n. Those knights are scary and the red man you talked about, he is the Queen's personal guard." Felix says ,"You're lucky he didn't do anything bad to you."

Jisung stares him blankly.

Minho paces up and down the room , his face twisted in confusion, " So you're telling me that the stupid story of 'Alice in Wonderland ' is true and Chan is from that place and you too?"

Felix hums in response.

"Bloody hell ", Jisung murmurs under his breath then adds , " so how do we go to that place and find him? I mean how do things work there?"

"Oh uh,no, we are not going anywhere. I will go . You are staying at home ,safe and secure!" Minho says to Jisung.

You frown in confusion.

"Wait, you believe it? You don't think we're all mad?" You ask.

They shake their heads.

"I trust you , y/n. You may be a pain in the ass and a crybaby but you aren't stupid or mad,as a matter of fact. We believe you ,of course." Minho shrugs.

You don't know if he's poking fun at you or if he actually believes you, but knowing Minho ,he rarely ever jokes around in situations like this.

"But how can we save Chan from there? Do we challenge the Queen and her claim on the throne or what? " you ask Felix.

Felix sighs , " It's not going to be easy . At all. That woman is dangerous...crazy even. She killed off Chan 's entire family , you think it'd be that easy to save him from her?"

There is genuine hatred and disgust in his voice when he speaks of the Queen. You'd only ever seen the portrayal of the First Red Queen in the movies and that woman was enough to piss you off . You couldn't imagine how someone from the same family tree could possibly get any worse.

"What are our options?" You ask ,tapping your fingers against your leg, a habit you'd picked up from Chan. You didn't realise it until just now.

"We cannot defeat her with physical power so dueling challenges and other such things are cut out. So that leaves us with either breaking him out from prison or being witty enough to fool the Stupid Red Head into letting him go " , He says . " and mind you, the Queen is very easy to fool because she's very ,very dumb but her daughter aren't. So we need a full plan to get him out."

You nod in agreement.

"Might I suggest something," Minho chimes in after giving much thought on whether he should speak up or not.

"Yes,please, of course." Felix replies.

"I think that the more important thing right now is to go to Wonderland - I mean, Underland- and as you mentioned earlier, talk to your friends and family. We can make a plan after we reach but first we need to know the severity of the situation there. "

Minho has always been smart but you don't want to admit it out loud - not in the presence of other people at least .

"Fine , yes. We must leave soon," Felix turns to Tracy , "Tracy, sweetheart, you will have to stay here and look over the shop . Jisung ,as Minho said,will stay back too. We don't know how long it will take but I promise I will be back."

And with that , you leave the two couples alone to bid their goodbyes and walk out to the porch, breathing in the cool night air.

"I promise I'll find you , Chan. I will find you and save you." you mutter into the air.

Funny things love makes one do.

The vial with the purple liquid feels cold in your hands as you uncork it .

"Do I pour it all in?" You ask nervously.

Felix stands on your left while Minho on your right, both of them holding the same vial in their hands.

"It doesn't matter. Just a drop does the work too." Felix shrugs.

You see him pour all the contents of the vial into his throat and then squint his eyes at the taste.

Minho and you share a look before doing the same.

And then your vision is fogged with a golden puff of smoke as you feel your body falling down a long, neverending , bottomless hole.

You've only ever heard about Underland from Chan and Felix ,and only ever seen this place through their eyes ,but now that you're actually here , it feels surreal, if you put it subtly.

The crisp and fresh air in the Enchanted forest runs chill down your spine and you hop over wood logs and thorny bushes with continuously moving leaves. Minho stays close to you, his hand never leaving your arm while his eyes try to absorb his surroundings.

Felix walks in front of you two , not wavered by the scene in front of him. And why would he be anyway,this was his home ,his domain.

"W-where are we,Felix?" You ask in a soft voice .

"We're in The Tulgey Wood . We're going to my house." He replies with a slight nostalgic tone.

The Enchanted Forest is so breathtakingly beautiful that it almost feels unreal to be walking right through it. The purple sky above you ,the rustling leaves around you , the trees that seem to follow your every movement and flowers that seem to have actual eyes, everything welcomes you rather warmly although you have a feeling you are yet to see the crazy side of this place.

"Well , I had expected you a little earlier, Felix." A sharp voice says from somewhere within the bushes, startling you and Minho and he jumps in front of you ,as if to protect you.

"What's that?" Minho asks,unable to mask his own fearful eyes.

Felix chuckles , " Don't be scared. This is my friend ,the White Rabbit. "

You hear shuffling sounds from the bushes and out comes the most cuddly looking rabbit you've seen in your whole life, hopping on his back limbs and wearing a waistcoat and carrying a stopwatch.

A waistcoat and a stopwatch....

Minho stares at the creature with awe while you bend over to take a closer look at it.

"Hey ,young lady ,back off!" The rabbit threatens you , squinting his eyes at you. And you immediately step back, blinking your eyes nervously.

"It's alright, she's our friend. Chan knows her too. " Felix says, crouching down to pat him , "This is y/n and her brother ,Minho. They're here to help."

At the mention of Chan's name , The Rabbit's eyes widen and he slumps down into Felix's arms and starts sobbing.

"Oh,my dear Felix , I'm afraid of what has become of The Prince. When we heard that the Knights brought him back , we were all so ...lost." he says as Felix cuddles him in his arms, "Dormouse and Cheshire have sneaked out from their duties of the Queen and gone to visit him . They say he looks scared to death. The Queen out him in a prison. With murderers and thieves and whatnot."

Your whole body goes limp at his words, your annoyingly vivid imagination creating those pictures in your head. You blink your tears away.

"How can we save him?" You ask in croaked voice.

The rabbit looks at you sadly , " Let's go to the girls first. They can help you."

"Who is he talking about?" Minho asks.

"My sisters," Felix replies , leading the way deeper into forest , "Come on, we're almost home."

The Hatters' live on a clear patch of land in Tulgey Wood , surrounded by trees for as long as the eyes could reach , in a huge house beautifully built like a Victorian top hat.

You were breath taken. And so was Minho because you could literally feel him hold his breath as you guys enter the house.

"Oh ,my gods , is that you Felix?" A high pitched female voice thunders from above you ,while you stand in what looks like the Study of the house. Your hands brush over a brown diary kept on the desk and the pot of ink sitting beside it. ' Medicinal Documentation ' the diary reads.

"Yes, it seems so. " Felix replies with a grin.

Your eyes fall on the steep spiral stairs in front of you that go up to the other floors of the house and you see two girls jogging down the stairs, big smiles plastered on their faces yet the sadness in their eyes cannot be hidden.

They are a tad bit shorter than you are , and they must not age more than Minho and as they jump on Felix ,squealing with excitement, one can almost immediately see the resemblance in the siblings' appearance ; bright orange hair , toothy smiles, and big ,sparkly eyes .

"And who might these lovely people be?" The shorter of the two girls asks ,as the white rabbit clings onto her long skirt.

"Oh,this is y/n and her brother Minho. They know Chan and want to help him." Felix introduces, " Y/n , Minho meet my sisters - Sana and Momo."

"Of course..miss y/n. We've heard about you." Sana ,the taller one ,walks up to you and bows her head lightly, "We're so grateful for what you're doing for the Prince, sweet one, we really are."

If Felix, Momo , Sana , Chan and the annoying ( but cute) rabbit were put in a Shakespearean play together , it would be a massive hit. Their accents are so good and elegant and graceful that you wish you could learn it too.

You smile at the compliment , "Please don't thank me. I haven't saved him yet. "

"Oh, enough of these formal courtesies, " the shorter girl, Momo , holds your arm and leads you up the stairs, "How about we talk over tea?"

The group reaches the top most floor of the house ,overlooking the beautiful forest through the window as you are made to sit around a long table .

Sana and Mina serve you a cup of tea while the White Rabbit passes you some freshly baked cookies.

"Wow,this...this tea is wonderful." Minho compliments when he takes a sip from his China cup , "Is this what Chan used to make for you ,y/n?"

You nod, as those memories dance around behind your eyes , " He was very good with it."

"Oh he always has been good at everything, I tell you ," Momo starts , " Sword fights ,archery, horse riding ,poetry , cooking, too bad a prince like him had to live with mere Hatters like ourselves."

"Hey,we weren't always this poor. " Sana adds, "This is all the Second Red Queen's doing, gods curse her!"

You scowl , " What do you mean? I thought she only harmed Chan's family . "

Sana let's out a woeful sigh while Momo and Felix look at each other with sorry eyes.

"I wish she'd only done that ,truth be told." Sana says.

"Yes, but instead she ruined everyone's lives who ever crossed paths with her." Momo says, "Our father was the Royal Hatter for Chan's family - the White Queen's descendants. And our mother was the Royal Physician . We lived a happy life , living in a big house near the palace in Marmoreal . "

"Marmoreal was the Summer Palace for the Royal family ,not very far from the capital town of Witzend. One such summer , when Prince Chan was only a year and a half old ,the banished heir of the Evil First Red Queen arrived in Marmoreal and her Knights butchered the royal family and killed every living creature in sight. Her dragons set fire to our house and the palace and the nearby villages. It was...horrible , to say the least. Only a few people survived , which included our family and the Young Prince. The Queen commanded us to take the infant away and never show up in front of her again and so we did - for a long time." Momo then looks over at Sana ,signalling her to continue telling the story.

"But that was until the Queen's only daughter - Princess Scarlet's 18th birthday celebration. We had gone to the parade fair in Witzend, just near the Queen's castle. No one knew us properly or Chan so we were safe. But the Princess saw Chan and fell in love with him...madly. She pursued him every chance she got and when she couldn't succeed , she used her mother's powers to force an alliance. Her mother was hesitant at first, given her history with Chan's family but then she too decided to force him into this alliance for her political good. And initially , Chan had to comply. But on the day of their wedding announcement, he escaped into your world."

"Through my rabbit hole,if I may add." The White Rabbit mumbles. You purse your lips, letting the story in slowly , word by word ,letter by letter. And when the realization sinks in,you purse your lips to stop yourself from crying.

"And I couldn't protect him. I am responsible for what happens to him." You whisper.

Everyone looks at you with disbelief.

"Hey, no! That is not true!" Felix says,almost angry ," You're the reason he was safe and happy for all those months. If not , if he were with me or worse,alone, he wouldn't last a week out there. You saved him, y/n."

"It's true, y/n. Our friends work in the Queen's royal kitchen and they've met Chan a few times in the prison - he only ever asks about a woman named y/n." Sana says.

Your heart drops into the deepest pits of your stomach. You didn't know what love really meant until you met him and although a stranger, in an unknown place , he still trusted you, believed you , cared for you , loved you.

You have to save him.

"Okay , anyone has any plans? Any ideas?" You ask ,after composing yourself.

"I don't have one but I really want to suggest we move this meeting to the medicinal garden in the backyard. That place helps me think. " The White Rabbit offers,scratching his fluffy ears.

As if something in your brain suddenly clicks , like a gear falling into place in a machine; Your eyes widen as you slam your hand on the table.

Everyone jumps up , startled.

"What's wrong ?"

You look over at the Rabbit and pat his head , "You are a genius."

"Huh?"

"You said your friends work for the Queen ,right?"

"Yes?"

You drag your chair away from the table, jumping to your feet ," I have a brilliant idea."

When the next morning arrives , you find yourself walking to the town of Witzend with The White Rabbit , Minho , Felix and his sisters by your side.

"Here,y/n, take this," Momo gives you something just before you enter the castle of the Red Queen. "You'll need it."

You gaze carefully at the shining vial in your palm.

"You know when to use it." She says.

You nod.

The Red Queen that you remember from the movies and the few excerpts from the original book of Alice in Wonderland that you'd only ever read once, you had expected her descendant to look a certain way too - big ,swollen head , scary eyes , loud voice.

But the woman sitting on the throne directly in front of you is definitely not what you had expected. At all. The Queen is a small woman ; and by small you don't mean skinny and short - she's literally small. She must not be more than three feet in height , you assume , but her features and face is that of a fully grown adult in her 40s. A human being who'd suddenly shrunk ( proportionally) like a raisin.

You wonder how someone so small could hold so much evil in themselves.

"Your majesty, " you bow down to her and so do the people standing beside you , scared yet worried for Chan. "It's nice to finally see you again."

You see a familiar gaze behind the throne, and you immediately recognize him - the Queen's personal guard - the asshole who had punched Chan bloody.

He smirks at you.

You curl your hands into fists.

"Yes? And what is it that you want from me?" The Queen asks, not really caring about the matter at hand. She picks at her cuticles while chewing her bottom lip.

Hesitant, you look at Felix asking for help.

Behind you , you could hear murmurs from the people waiting in line for their turn to put forward their complaint in front of the Queen.

"Your majesty, this is Miss y/n. She's come a long way from home to see you." Felix says ,his voice as gentle as the wind on a winter morning.

The Queen rolls her eyes, running her small hand through her red hair , " What can I do for you?"

That's the fakest thing you'd heard all day.

You clear your throat and pick up all your courage to speak, "I want your help to look for the man I love, your majesty. He's ...missing and possibly hurt I believe. "

" Why are you here instead of asking the Police to help you?" The Queen demands.

"Oh,because I'm afraid you're the one who has him."

The Queen stops picking at her cuticles, and raises her head to stare at you with her small , googly yet intimidating eyes. You realise now why the people were so afraid of her - the Evil curve of her lips and her deadly stare are enough to make you want to drop everything and run back home.

"What do you mean ,young lady?" The Queen asks, her interest now focused on your words.

A collective gasp runs through the throne room , starting from the citizens, then passing on to the Queen's staff and her card shaped Knights. They seem surprised at the Queen actually showing an interest in something for the first time.

"I'm talking about Prince Chan, your majesty." You say.

The Queen's eyes widen as you hear the room fill with murmurs and gasps and silent cries. How long had it been since a person dared to even mention Chan in front of the Queen?

"Mother,what is this woman talking about?!" You hear a loud shriek from somewhere beside the Queen .

And only when you squint your eyes hard enough can you actually see her ; the Princess of Underland who was hilariously so small (even smaller than her mother ) that you almost wanted to giggle. Now don't get me wrong, you weren't body shaming her or anything , but you'd never seen a person so terribly small in your entire life until now. You could only imagine what it would look like if Chan happens to marry her for real one day.

"Don't worry daughter , " the Queen gets up from her seat and walks up toward you, her guard close behind her , " Chan is only yours. No one else's."

Just when you're about to respond , you see two huge fishes - almost as tall as you - twirl up to the Queen and offer her a cup.

You'd never expected to see actual, living fishes out of water or wear clothes or hold trays and bowls or walk on their tails, but here you are .

"Wrong timing ,idiots!" The Queen screams her face red with anger yet she snatches the cup from the tray and gulps down all it's contents at one go.

What a peculiar woman.

"Go away now." The red asshole growls at the poor fish as they rush away from the scene.

You smile at the Queen as she stands in front of you , not even reaching your knees properly .

"You,girl, what do you want?" She demands.

You feel Minho wrap a reassuring arm around you , eyeing the woman in front of you with a hatred filled gaze. Felix stands close by your side.

"I want Chan to be released from prison , and be given his rightful throne back . That's all." You say.

The Queen scoffs , "His weak and worthless dynasty ruled over this excuse of a country and the useless people for years. I am only trying to make things better."

You can feel the disapproval of the citizens around you at being called useless.

"And? Do your people think you're doing a good job?" Felix asks.

You see numerous heads shake in a negative response,and you can slowly feel the tension in the room rising.

The Queen points her left forefinger at you while the other hand is on her waist , " You want the truth , peasant girl? So here it is - I do not care about anyone . I care nothing of this country and its citizens and its creatures. None of my ancestors ever had. We just like to sit on that extremely uncomfortable throne and enjoy the money and power we get from controlling these worthless citizens. Oh and I wish I could relive the screams of The White Royal family as I killed them. One by one."

The Queen gasps in realization of what she'd just said while the room falls completely silent for a second before the princess yelps , "Mother ,what is the matter with you?!"

The princess looks horrified as she runs up to her equally horrified mother.

You smirk - the plan of pouring in the truth potion in the Queen's tea had taken so less effort , thanks to the sweet Dormouse and benevolent Cheshire Cat and Felix's mother's medicine diary.

"Oh I hope you burn in hell . A whiny, good for nothing girl. You can't even fight your own fights without dragging me in. And as far as Chan is concerned , I don't care about you marrying him. I only wanted to secure my claim over the throne by forming an alliance with a person with actual rights to this kingdom." The Queen clamps a hand over her mouth, stumbling back from the shock.

The princess let's go off her mother,betrayal clear in his eyes.

"So you admit to your crimes?"

"Yes." The truth comes out as natural as those lies she'd fed the citizens and the princess and her servants and the Knights for years.

From the corner of your eyes , you see The Princess trying to sneak past everyone and run out of the throne room , guilty of her own wrong doings but Felix stops her with a firm grip on her tiny hand , "Where do you think you're going, little one? Didn't you threaten to kill my whole family if we didn't hand Chan over to you?"

The Red Knights close in to capture the Queen and her personal guard in their unbreakable grasp , giving up their oaths of protecting the Queen - their duty is only to serve Chan from now on.

Sana steps in now , turning to address the people who are witnessing this unusual incident, "My fellow lovely countrymen, as you can see right before your eyes and hear through your own ears , your Queen has intended nothing but to harm you and our kingdom for all these years. She means no good and never will - the true heir to the throne now lies injured and chained in her dungeons. What do you suggest we do?"

"Behead her!" "Free the Prince!" "Finish off the Reds!" "Be done with her guard too ." "Crown Prince Chan."

The room thunders with all sorts of suggestions and you make an eye contact with the White Rabbit ,who nods at you and you nod back ,smiling from ear to ear.

You've done it , he wants to say , you've freed The Prince.

The rooms in the castle were beautifully designed, but were in a terrible condition since most of the rooms were never used really and the Queen didn't feel it was important to get them cleaned regularly.

You had asked the White Rabbit to find some servants to get one of the rooms quickly prepped as the Red Knights carried Chan from the prison and into the castle - his birth home. Sana and Momo cleaned his wounds the moment he was laid down on the soft bed, changing his clothes and then softly pulling the covers over his body to keep him warm while he rests.

The White Rabbit brings you an apple but you don't eat it - you just sit by Chan's side ,praying desperately that he wakes up soon. You wouldn't be able to swallow a single grain of food until then.

You run your fingers softly over his arm ,drawing random patterns and spelling out your names on it.

"Please wake up ,Chan." You say in a whisper , scanning his calm yet beautiful facial features. "I found you ,Chan. I am here."

Your fingers find their way to his and naturally as ever ,wrap themselves around them.

Suddenly, Chan stirs in his position , a low groan leaving his parted lips. You stare wide eyed at him as he slowly opens his eyes, your hands still tightly intertwined.

"C-chan?"

He turns his head toward you , a lazy smile dancing on his lips and his eyes focusing on your face , which he'd yearned to see every second he spent in that horribly dark dungeon.

"Are you really here, y/n? Or am I finally going mad?" He asks you.

You lean in closer ,brushing a few strands of hair from his face.

"You're only as mad as the rest of us." You reply, "Welcome home ,your majesty."

Groggy and weak ,Chan pushes himself up in a seating position. "How did you deal with the Queen? Where is she? " He takes your face in his hands , "Did she hurt you?"

"She couldn't lay a single finger on me. And now she's locked up in the same dungeon as you were. She'll be given to the slave trader soon ,along with her daughter." You say. "Who knew a simple medicine and a few good friends could be enough to defeat a tyrant ?"

He giggles , pressing his forehead on yours. "Did you meet everyone else ? Momo? Sana? My friends?"

You nod with a grin. You'd come to adore his friends and family so deeply in a single day. You would hate to part from them.

"Thank you, y/n. I owe you everything. " he sighs, his breath fanning your face , "I love you so much I think it's going to drive me crazy!"

You chuckle at his cheesy words , "You're welcome. But I need compensation for all of this. An ' I love you ' is not enough."

You were joking ; hearing him confess his sincere love for you is more than enough but you liked playing with him. He looks very cute when flustered.

"Then what would the pretty lady desire?"

"You."

He shakes his head , leaning down to capture your lips in his plump ones.

This kiss was even better than the first one that you guys shared on the dance floor , mostly because you know now that even if he's taken away from you or you are taken away from him , you'll always find each other , in every world , in every universe. He pulls you up on his lap despite him being injured , and you let him.

You put your hand around his neck, pulling him closer and closer and closer . At one point ,you could no longer tell who he is or who you were. The only thing that mattered was that you loved him so much , you could deal with a hundred Red Queens for him. And you know he'd do the same for you.

"I have one last favour to ask of you ,my love." He whispers against your lips ,pulling away from the kiss. His red cheeks and sparkly eyes are a sight to behold ," I want you to stay here with me. Please."

You grin , knowing he'd say this and you were well prepared for it. Convincing Minho to let you stay was so much easier than you had expected really. All he did was shrug with a smirk and say, " Just don't get pregnant." In reality, all Minho really wanted was for you to be happy and healthy and he knew living here with Chan would make you the happiest.

"On three conditions." You reply to Chan ,who is staring at you like he'd seen a human like you for the first time.

"Okay. What are those?" He brushes your cheeks with his thumb.

"I can visit home whenever I want."

"Agreed, obviously.  You're not a prisoner, y /n."

"Then I also want to put up a small shop of my own in the main market square. I will not be wasting my time on stupid politics- that's your job."

"Agreed. I will help you with it whenever I can. What's the last condition?"

You smirk and lean your face closer to his. "Kiss me one more time."

And he does.

You smile into the kiss , wondering now that ' Alice in Wonderland '  might not have been that bad after all. She had a choice to stay or go back and she chose the latter. You had the same choices too , but you chose to stay. It wasn't about a happy or a sad ending ,after all. It was about the choices.

And as Chan holds your waist firmly, deepening the kiss , you know you've made the right choice too.

[gl211]

Glory

I feel like I need a disclaimer. I adore/adored McDreamy. There wasn’t a bigger MerDer fan than me. And I love the fact that they brought Patrick back for the dream sequences. BUT, we know they can’t live on the dream island forever. And I really like Hayes. Last season, I finally saw the spark of something that was missing with all of Meredith’s other pairings. Plus, the “I’m here. It’s okay. Don’t worry.” REALLY got me straight in the feelings. So with that, I give you this one-shot.

“Grey. Grey? Can you hear me?”

She felt what could be described as an elephant on her chest as she gasped, opening her eyes slowly.

Where am I?

She was lying on the ground, she knew that. She fully opened her eyes to see Cormac Hayes hovering over her. She couldn’t read his expression behind his mask, but his eyes were screaming.

Derek. Where did Derek go?

She heard Hayes shouting as more people were suddenly around her, an oxygen mask being placed on her face. She tried to sit up, as multiple hands kept her body in place. She felt Hayes’s hands on her face, keeping her head in place.

“It’s okay. Don’t try and move.”

She was dying.

That’s why Derek was there.

This was it.

She’d survived this much and all the impossible scenarios life had thrown at her. And yet, here she was. She was going to die in the hospital parking lot. From a virus that could’ve been prevented.

Her kids. All three of them flashed through her mind, chest feeling ten times heavier as the situation weighed on her.

They didn’t deserve to lose two parents. To be alone.

Her gasp turned into a guttural sob. She felt Cormac’s fingers gently, soothingly stroking her head. He continued to hold her in place, gently reassuring her. She felt herself push against whomever was holding her hands, her hand frantically wrapping around his wrist.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

She felt tears slip out of her eyes, a heavy breath laboring her breathing. She shut her eyes as she heard the wheels of the gurney screech closer.

“I know. It’s okay. Just stay with me.”

She felt movement as her body was shuffled from the concrete to the stretcher, she felt a backboard sliding under her and a neck brace being placed as the group around her was suddenly running into the hospital. She locked eyes with Hayes, who was shouting, as they ran, his hand moving to nudge Meredith, to keep her awake. Her felt heavy, her eyes involuntarily slipping closed, accepting her unconscious fate.

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

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

The next time she opened her eyes, Owen was standing over her in full PPE. Sounds around her were muffled. Oddly, it felt like the time she ruptured her eardrums. Like everything was moving slowly and quietly.

Suddenly her train of thought snapped back into place. She grabbed Owen’s wrist stalling his movement.

“Call Cristina... kids... just in case.”

Owen nodded, knowing what she meant but not before placed his gloved hand over hers and squeezing it.

“I’ll call her. But you’re going to be fine.”

Meredith nodded as she looked around the room, she saw Teddy, Owen, Tom, Jackson. She turned her gaze a bit, her neck brace not allowing her to go much further.

She saw Maggie, Richard and Bailey hovering by the window in full PPE. Further away stood Hayes, his eyes locked on her. Her gaze met his before her eyes fluttered close again.

“ Meredith you deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“What if I’m not supposed to be happy anymore?”

“Mer. You know that’s not true. Look at who you are. The person you’ve become. An award winning, talented surgeon. An amazing mother. You did all of that on your own.”

“Right. By myself.”

“All I’m saying is that maybe you shouldn’t be alone.”

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

Over the course of the next several days, time seemed to blend. They were trying everything on her. Infusions, drugs, anything that has been deemed usable they have tried.

While her breathing was bad, the fever and rigor that followed was worse.

She vaguely remembered Andrew and Maggie in the room on more than one occasion. Bailey had been here, they had talked about DNR’s and her kids.

Jo had sat with her, talking to her, reminding her how many people she had in her corner. Shockingly, she had even called Alex, who called within an hour of being told. She had spoken to him every day via text.

She hadn’t seen Amelia, she was with the kids, but she had FaceTimed  with her. The kids hadn’t been told anything, per Meredith’s request. She didn’t want them told until it was absolutely necessary.

Cristina was grounded on the other side of the globe, but she had spoken with her  three times.

Cormac Hayes was there. Every time she had opened her eyes, he was there.

He was either at the window outside her room or inside. Barely speaking but watching her intently, like she was going to vanish if he left.

With no concept of time, she still knew he hadn’t left the hospital in days.

She sleepily opened her eyes one day to see him looking at her stats on the monitor. She turned her head.

“Hi.”

His head turned at the sound of her voice. In his full PPE, she could see him without his mask. She saw how tired he looked.

“You should go home, sleep.”

He shook his head as her nasal cannula slipped a bit. He carefully approached the bed and gestured towards her as she nodded. He carefully adjusted it, slipping her mask right below it.

“Your kids. Go home.”

He shook his head staying at the edge of the bed as he adjusted the blanket around her.

“They’re staying with their aunt outside the city for now.”

She nodded as he sat in the chair next to her bed.

“Your levels are up a bit. And the fever is down. That’s a good thing.”

Meredith nodded, clearly not convinced. She smoothed the blanket out in her lap, pulling at the threads.

“I keep seeing Derek. And I know if I keep seeing him, that can’t be a good thing. And part of me wants to give up. Just be done. Stop fighting. Be with Derek.””

It wasn’t something he was used to, seeing Meredith Grey admitting defeat. It wasn’t her. She was tenacious, unapologetic, put 100% into everyone and everything in her life.

“But then I think about my kids. And how much I don’t want them to be alone. And how I don’t want to die. Not like this.”

Her voice broke at the words, tears now freely falling down her face. Within seconds, he could tell her thoughts had shifted drastically to the worst-case scenario. He reached his hand out, gently placing it over hers. Her eyes looked down, her posture crumbling further as everything final hit her.

“I really don’t want to die alone.”

The statement shot him to his core.

“Grey. Hey.”

He tried to urge her to look at him, his hand gently running over hers. The small gesture was doing nothing, the woman in front of him crumbling by the second.

Her monitors were starting to beep with her irregular breaths, her cries only fueling the piercing noise.

“Meredith.”

That seemed to grab her attention for a moment. He hadn’t ever called her by first name. His Irish brogue hitting all the syllables.

The beeping monitors intensified, they were probably moments away from a team of people appearing if she didn’t calm down.

He stood and walked around towards the other side of her bed. Careful to not disrupt any IV or oxygen lines, he carefully sat down in full PPE on the bed.

Meredith, though bordering on hysterical felt the motion and turned her head slightly. He turned on his side, best as he could to face her.

“No one is dying. And no one is alone.”

She cried harder at his remark, his arm snaking around her, his gloved hand intertwined with hers as she gripped it.

‘I’m not leaving you. I’m right here.”

He lost track of how long he laid there next to her, holding her. Eventually her cries settled, her monitors regulated and the grip on his hand loosened ever so slightly.

Several minutes later, he heard her breathing even out, an indication she had fallen asleep. He could’ve left when she fell asleep, probably should’ve given protocols and exposure. But he was a man of his word, no one was going to be alone.

“I love you Derek. I’m always going to love you.”

“I know I love you too. Which is why you have to go back.”

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

A rough 14 days in the hospital and Meredith was finally testing negative. She was officially on a road to recovery and was able to go home.

“Busting out of here?”

She turned to the door as Cormac entered. Standing next to her bed, she organized the limited belongings she had come in with. She placed the photo Maggie had brought of the kids in her bag, her hand lingering on it for a second.

“Are you driving my getaway car?” she joked.

He flashed her a grin, visible under the PPE. Though Meredith was negative, they were still in a COVID ward.

“Figure out your plans yet? Hotel or home?”

Meredith shrugged as she zipped the small tote bag shut, setting it beside her, pulling her sweater tighter around her pajamas,

“Not sure quite yet. I was living here before getting sick. Probably a hotel for a week, make sure I’m really okay. And then home to my kids. And then I’ll be back when I’m cleared for work.”

“Can’t keep you away from this place?”

“Well the hospital does kind of have my name in it.” she said with a grin.

He laughed, grateful that her spunk was back.

“I should thank you.”

“Me?” he questioned.

“You helped get me over the hump. I don’t think I would’ve made it through without you. So, thank you.”

He shook his head modestly stopping her, his hand going up to wave her off.

She can’t say that when Cormac Hayes arrived in Seattle that he was modest, caring or thoughtful. Quite the opposite, actually.

But beneath the rough exterior of armor he tried to keep up, was a thoughtful, selfless person. Who would do just about anything for anyone. Including her.

“No need to thank me Grey. Anyone would’ve.” he replied.

“Yeah. But you’re not just anyone.”

Her eyes twinkled as he smiled back. He felt this indescribable warmth that had gradually crept into him the more time he spent with Meredith. A feeling he didn’t want to go away.

The buzz of his phone brought him back to reality. He could hear and feel it going off in his scrubs pocket. He was being paged back to peds. Admittedly while no one wanted to see a sick child, it was a well needed break from COVID.

“Never ends, Grey.” he said as he nodded towards her, walking towards the door. “I’ll come back later to see you off.”

“Meredith.” she replied as he got to the door.

“Come again?” he questioned.

“You went back to Grey, but it’s Meredith. You’re going to have call me Meredith. Especially if we’re going to eventually get that drink. Masked and outside of course.”

Her eyes sparkled as he grinned back, nodding in response.

“Very well then. I’ll see you later, Meredith.”

She waved as he left, watching as he walked through the area to dispose of PPE.

It was odd to have these spark like feelings for someone other than Derek. But, somewhere in the middle of her hallucinations and her reality, she realized that moving on with someone wouldn’t take away missing Derek. Derek would always be a part of her, she would always love him.

Moving on meant honoring herself, letting her heart be open to someone wanting to care for it.

Moving on meant showing up for herself.  

Her phone chimed as Cristina’s phone call came in. She quickly answered it, pressing it up to hear ear.

“Hi.”

She looked up, meeting Cormac’s gaze, as he waved, signaling he was leaving for now, but would be back.

“How’s everything over there? Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not alone.”

[thecloserkin]

fic rec: Vignettes by CosmicZombie

fandom: The Borgias (Showtime 2011)

pairing: Cesare Borgia/Lucrezia Borgia

word count: 17k

is it explicit: yes

bottom line: Cesare heals Lucrezia from the emotional trauma of her marriage; this fic healed me from the ennui of being alive

It’s an S1 AU where Lucrezia returns to Rome from Pesaro to await her divorce, but Rome does not feel like home anymore and Lucrezia does not feel like herself. Pesaro isn’t just a place, you see—it’s the physical manifestation of Lucrezia’s loss of identity. That bastard Giovanni Sforza made her feel worthless, made her feel like less than nothing, and you don’t recover from that kind of abuse overnight. This fic pulls off an astounding sleight of hand where it repeatedly juxtaposes Pesaro against Rome, alien-place against home-place, and then it turns out Rome isn’t home—Cesare is home. That revelation hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Am I different, Cesare?” “You are Lucrezia.” “I—I sometimes feel as though I cannot remember who I used to be.”

She’s home but not home; she’s with Cesare but she wants to be with him more (she wants his dick inside her lol).

This fic takes its time with the slow buildup of UST, and I adore how tactile Lucrezia and Cesare are. We have tears being wiped away, nose bumps, brushing of lips against knuckles, warm breath on skin, dancing in the moonlight, cuddling, even bedsharing! Another thing I’m in awe of is the imagery: I could hear the burbling of the water fountain and I was getting sleepy just from the descriptions of sunlight. She even has a dream where she sees Cesare in her own reflection in a mirror, and it was such a disturbing image that it stayed with me. In truth it’s a dreamlike atmosphere that’s evoked here—Vanozza, Juan, Gioffre etc are onscreen for 0.2 seconds even though they’re all living at the villa together—it’s pretty tightly centered on Lucrezia and Cesare. What’s going on in the outside world?? Is France about to invade & occupy the Vatican? Is Milan in cahoots with them? Are there rumblings of discontent from Naples? Has Savonarola set Florence on fire yet? Who tf knows—not Cesare or Lucrezia, they’re in their own little bubble!!!

When other characters are mentioned, however, the context is revealing:

Juan had mocked them when they were children for being like a two-headed Cerberus

Djem had told her of Indian tigers once, how when the monsoon came after months of drought they sometimes drank so much in compensation that they drowned their own hearts in water.

That second quote!!! That’s Lucrezia being reunited with Cesare and immediately trying not to gorge herself on him. She missed him so much while she was away in Pesaro!

So Lucrezia has insomnia. Of course, before she left Rome, she used to sleep like a baby:

“Come,” Cesare said gently, pulling their clasped hands to his chest and kissing her knuckles. “Let me read you to sleep as I used to…What should you like to hear, sis?” “Anything so long as it is in your voice,” Lucrezia murmured, eyelids heavy.

This passage, I think, best encapsulates the rupture that has occurred in Lucrezia:

She wondered now that she was back how she had been able to bear being away from him for so long, but then she felt that she had not only been away from him while at Pesaro, but also away from herself. Now that she had returned she ached for both of them so deeply she felt as though it would consume her.

What a turn of phrase! She had not only been away from Cesare but away from herself. Because Cesare is her own self q.e.d. bye

“Sometimes I feel as though I no longer exist,” Lucrezia whispered, leaning her forehead against his … It is only when I am with you that I feel like myself again, Cesare.” “I would cut out his heart for what he has done to you, sis.” “What good is his heart? It will not make me feel myself again …Only yours can do that, brother, as it has always done.”

ONLY CESARE MAKES HER FEEL REAL AAAAAAA!!!

Here is where the UST really starts to build, and Lucrezia feels the little tremors of physical attraction under her abiding affection for Cesare:

she felt as though she were simultaneously glimpsing the assurance of the one thing which would never change, and flickers of things she had always known before but never truly been confronted with.

shoulders pressed together the way they had sat together so often over the years; on one or other of their beds, or the walls of the Vatican, or on this very spot – yet it somehow felt infinitely different to any of those times. He had always been her solace, in everything. Never before had he somehow been part of what troubled her.

This is a conversation wherein Lucrezia doubts she is worthy enough to experience all-consuming soul-engulfing romantic love the way it’s valorized in stories and songs:

“But you have been with women, Cesare …You know what it is to love someone, to be loved. I have not known that. I may never know it.” “You will know it someday, my love. I promise you.“ “But I do not know it now. Tell me what it is like. Tell me that it exists…Please, Cesare.” “I do not know if I have ever loved a woman I have been with in the way you describe, sister.” “Is such love impossible?” “In every sense of the word, my love.”

This conversation is EVERYTHING. I cut out out the body language but it’s like, Cesare is finishing every single sentence with “my love”??? What more proof does she want that he loves and adores and desires her above all other women?? “Impossible loves” indeed!!!

She had craved his attention and his very presence whenever he was missing from her – but she felt now that she still craved him even when she was with him. The power of it overwhelmed her and empowered her all at once, and was more consuming than her love of god had ever been.

THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER IS MORE POWERFUL THAN THEIR LOVE FOR GOD this is it this is the essence of Cesare/Lucrezia

For most of her childhood, she had lived in fear she would never find anyone else in the world whom she loved as much as her brother. Sitting amidst the wildflowers with her hair unravelling and her heart racing as they looked at each other, she knew it had been a long time since she had feared that.

Did somebody say platonic/fraternal affection shading imperceptibly into romantic attachment??? My jaaaaaam

“How many people do you think are blessed with such intimacy of the soul, Cesare?” “None that I know.”

Soulmates!!!

This is the prologue to them consummating their relationship—they rode out into the woods and the scene is as picturesque as can be:

“I do not like the way men look at me … I feel like fearful Daphne under their gaze, and just as helpless to escape them. They do not see me, they only see the pope’s daughter, a Borgia.” “I do not see only that.” “No, I know you do not. But you are different, Cesare … I cannot imagine what it would be to fear you.” “Many do not have to imagine.” “I do not fear you …But I fear this, Cesare…I fear what I feel for you when we are together.”

There’s no going back after this—they’re taking an irrevocable step in their relationship but they’re also ruining each other for any future partners, who could not possibly ever measure up.

She could feel how hard he was against her thigh, feel the urgency in the tremor of his hands where they touched her hair, feel the fevered thump of his heart where his chest was pressed against her own. For the first time, she felt as though she was given a glimpse of the recklessness which drove him when he was wielding a sword or charging headlong into the chaos of a battlefield.

Making love is actually not dissimilar to making war: the adrenaline rush?? The anticipation? The endorphins??

Oh wait no jk they don’t consummate till they get back to the villa later that night. This is my favorite passage from this fic, it’s Lucrezia running into him on the terrace after supper and really seeing him. She’s the only one who’s ever seen all of him:

Here in the shadows with just the two of them the impatient ambition and calculating intelligence that constricted him as much as his Cardinal’s red was lost, and he was just himself. The brother Lucrezia had known since she was placed into his arms less than an hour after she first came into the world, who had existed before ambition or anger in his devotion, curiosity and passion. It was the Cesare she and she alone knew, and it made emotion bloom in her chest to think she was the only person who had ever known him as this.

And then they go back to her room and bang, which is how Lucrezia finds herself again. Protip everyone: skip the Eat Pray Love and instead embark on a journey of self-discovery by banging your brother!