#and i think his clarity & consideration there as well as the fact he felt Safe to pull away is meaningful to an extent

[charliespringverse]

... it's just hit me that lister describes the bathroom kiss as assault and even when jimmy reassures him that he doesn't see it that way and doesn't have a problem with it, lister refuses to accept that it was anything other than objectively assault

while two days earlier jimmy insisted that a 32-yr-old having sex with lister at age 16 was wrong, despite lister not seeing it that way and not having a problem with it

does that mean that lister took that conversation on board but only as far as "the person on the receiving end of an advance can't accurately assess whether or not it was wrong" and is now equating himself to the woman that took advantage of him . because i will weep

[miraculouscontent]

After reading that, I think it's safe to say that Miraculous Ladybug is more of a horror/psychological thriller than romance/comedy. And now I want an AU where Marinette takes the earrings off and realizes that they're messing with head

Marinette felt strange, and after getting used to the feeling of being on the Startrain, she knew it wasn't the cause. She felt lighter - less restricted - somehow, and while a part of her had expected that due to handing off the ladybug miraculous, it wasn't in the way she'd expected.

Once she was done sending Alya all the Ladybug tips, Marinette had figured they'd start talking about Adrien or what their next scheme would be once she got back, but she ended up finding the idea tiring. It was odd in the way that finding something in her room just slightly out of place would be (at least before the kwami began living there).

Everything she'd thought she might feel - anxiety over what could go wrong while she was gone, concern over how the kwami were doing in her absence, and longing for who she'd pictured as the love of her life - wasn't there. It felt completely unlike her, just as it felt unlike Alya to not reply to her messages considering how much she liked to be on her phone.

Abandoning the idea of texting Alya for now, she closed their conversation and idly started browsing her phone. Even still, the weird feeling didn't cease and her hero senses were going off.

Something was wrong, or... maybe right? It wasn't as if she was feeling anything bad, but she felt entirely different than when she was in Paris. It was hard to get a gauge on exactly how she should take it.

Marinette glanced at her parents, catching herself frowning before they could glance back. She looked at her phone, acting like nothing was wrong and idly scrolling through her various apps so as to look busy. In the process, she stumbled upon her gallery, finding her mass of Adrien images inside. It took up a majority of her pictures, and she found herself blushing in embarrassment rather than fondness.

Did she really have this many normally? How much time had she taken getting them?

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thrown off by just how different she felt. The reaction to seeing Adrien that she'd normally have where she'd lose all focus had virtually disappeared, and the only reason she'd missed it at all was because it gave her an absurd amount of mental clarity concerning how she'd be acting otherwise.

Clarity...

The word brought a particular face to her mind: pink lips, blue eyes, and black hair highlighted blue at the tips. Marinette ran her fingers through her own hair, ruffling it as she tried to piece out how she was feeling. All she knew was that - whatever it was - it was significant and she didn't have Tikki to vent to.

Though perhaps she wouldn’t had much to provide anyway.

A mix of trepidation and curiosity filling her. Switching away from her gallery, she went back to her conversations and pulled up her texts with Luka. Despite her confusion over whatever was happening to her at the moment, she managed a smile at Luka's contact image staring fondly at her.

After a moment of consideration, she typed out:

Hey. Sorry if you're busy. Thought we could talk?

That done, she navigated back to her gallery to look at all her Adrien pictures. She shifted in her seat again, as if it would change things or help her mind adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. It wasn't like looking at Adrien didn't make her feel anything at all, but that feeling could only be described as "normal," like the way she saw him before he'd given her that umbrella.

Before she officially became a ladybug holder who agreed to protect the people of Paris...

Her lips twitched in hesitant thought, her thumb brushing against her screen as she skimmed through the assortment of Adrien pictures. Her brain registered a feeling - or rather, lack thereof - and the foreign emotions encouraged her to act.

She tapped the garbage can icon experimentally, a notification popping up accordingly and asking her if she'd like to delete the picture. She brought the phone closer to her chest, like she felt she was doing something wrong, yet there was only a second of pause before she confirmed the decision.

She watched as Adrien disappeared, a message indicating that the picture had been trashed.

Marinette blinked at the message until it had timed out, bringing her back to the gallery. She was frozen in place, her fingers twitching against the side of the phone as she processed what she'd just done.

Then, she did it again. She tapped on another picture of Adrien, a weird mix of eagerness and interest urging her thumb along as she pressed the garbage can icon again, confirming the decision just as quickly.

Just before the image disappeared, a stray thought said aloud in her mind: black hair and blue eyes would've worked better for an outfit like that.

This time, her body finally moved, a shudder going up her spine as she took in a breath. Her eyes darted over to her parents, knowing how strange this must look to them, but they weren't watching her anyway, meaning the moment was kept firmly in her own personal bubble. It was so odd; normally, someone would've seen her acting off, or laughed and made muttering comments about it.

But nothing was happening, and she didn't know whether to question it or not.

Marinette glanced back at her phone, almost challenging herself as she started to run through the assorted Adrien pictures. She could've thrown them in the metaphorical bin all at once, but instead, she went one-by-one. She waited for something to break, either a sense of regret to settle in over the deletion or for her heart to start fawning over the face on screen, but neither happened.

She was in control, and it felt good. Really, really good.

Part of her felt like she was being ridiculous. The idea of getting some kind of emotional high out of deleting a few pictures sounded stupid, and yet she felt powerful. It was like a veil had been lifted and suddenly she had choices.

If her parents saw her visibly vibrating in her seat, she didn't hear them make mention of it.

The only thing that made her snap out of her rapid thumb movements was a text notification at the top of her screen, and only due to the flash of black, blue, and white. Her lips curved into a smile, originally being pressed together in focus, and she clicked to open her text messages with Luka.

Hey, Marinette. I'm not busy at all. What's up?

She felt warm, knowing that the guy who always made her feel comfortable and happy was on the other line. it was such a shame that they hadn't been able to work it out because of Adrien.

Marinette paused just as she went to reply, those thoughts catching up to her as she remembered that day with Luka underneath the bridge. She'd been so sure that she'd had to break up with him because of Adrien, but as she purposefully tried to recall the memory, something registered like a mental fog clearing in her mind.

Hadn't it actually been her responsibilities as Ladybug that had done it? In fact, that added up alongside all of the other memories of his akumatization; she hadn't been ditching him during their dates out of discomfort or her crush on Adrien, but because of akuma and sentimonsters.

How could she have forgotten? Or rather, how could she have remembered otherwise?

Marinette just barely managed to snap herself out of her trance, her phone having dimmed from inactivity and the sight of her furrowed brows and worried frown staring back at her from the blackened screen. She blinked rapidly, then shook her head to clear herself of the unnerving thoughts.

Lighting her phone back up, she hurriedly typed back as she realized she'd left Luka on read, trying to ignore the way her thumbs shook.

Nothing much.

She hesitated, already seeing him typing back. Guilt burrowed around in her stomach, knowing very well that it was not "nothing" but being unable to properly convey what was going on to him when she didn't even understand it herself.

She typed again, his own typing ceasing to let her add to her comment.

Actually, I've been thinking a bit lately. I'm going to be in London for a while and I'm on the train ride there right now. It's given me some time to myself and it's... weird.

I'm sorry, I know that doesn't make sense.

Even though he hadn't replied, she knew he was taking her seriously as he was typing back.

It makes sense. Background music doesn't work for everyone.

Marinette realized that her shoulders had been tense when they relaxed at his message. She pressed her lips together, feeling vaguely like she didn't deserve him and pushing down the thoughts just as quickly. He'd never approve of that kind of talk.

My head's just been a bit of a mess. Or... not a mess? Things were really foggy but I didn't realize that they were? It's like I'm thinking clearer but I don't know if I like everything that came with that.

What was the phrase? Ignorance is bliss? She had no idea where these changes were coming from, but something had indeed changed and she didn't know the significance of it. She was indeed happy that she felt so in control now over her thoughts on Adrien, but why now? What caused it, and what about her memories?

Would it go away?

Marinette shuddered at the idea, but tried to focus on her conversation with Luka. Having a crisis wasn't going to do her any good, and he was there with her, even if only through text.

I can't know what you're going through, but I think I get it.

-

You do?

-

Yeah. Do you remember my birthday, when everyone heard about my dad being Jagged Stone?

He already continued typing, so she just nodded even if he couldn't see it. She'd only been with Juleka when the reveal had happened, but she imagined it'd been just as much of a shock for her as it'd been for them. She couldn't even imagine when Luka could've learned about it.

Wait--no, she'd already known, actually, hadn't she? He'd been akumatized and had gone after Jagged, and she'd been there when he forced Jagged to tell him the truth about being his father.

Marinette winced at the filling of a gap in her memory that she hadn't realized had been there. Once again, she'd remembered something that she couldn't fathom having forgotten or misremembered, even with how spotty her memory could be under normal circumstances.

She turned towards the back of her seat and the window, trying to isolate herself so it felt like just her, her phone, and Luka. She desperately needed his texts as a distraction.

I'd wanted to know who my dad was for so long, but learning that it was my favorite musician all this time was a lot. I had to redo all the notes I’ve ever written about him, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it for a while.

He kept typing after that, and she merely stroked the side of the phone with her thumb as some form of support, even knowing that he couldn't know about it.

But I'm glad I knew in the end. He's doing his best to make up for all the lost time, and I don't have to go on never knowing what that song would've sounded like.

Their situations weren't exactly the same, but it was enough to reach her deep down. Whatever her situation was, if it really did mean something, she'd rather know it was there than go on never knowing. She hated the idea of being left in the dark, just as she hated being lied to.

As she took a calming breath, she found it in herself to type back.

I'm glad you know too. You deserve people who make you happy, Luka.

-

Thank you, Marinette. You do too, and I hope that whatever you're going through goes at least as well as it did for me.

-

Thanks.

She bit her lower lip at her reply, which felt clipped in tone even though she hadn't meant it that way. She just had too much on her mind and it was hard to think about what emotion was coming across when she was typing to him.

She tapped away at the on-screen keyboard, hopefully before he could think anything in particular about it.

Sorry.

Though she wanted to explain further, she wavered, her legs bending as she curled further in on herself. The conversation had already been so deep and she didn't want to make it worse.

But just as she debated on dismissing her feelings and insisting that he not worry about her, the memories that had been cleared up from before came back to her, reminding her of a warm hug on top of a bridge.

"When you're ready, I'll be here, Marinette."

She inhaled shakily, but steadied herself immediately afterwards, letting the warmth of the words calm her. Luka was there for her and she trusted him.

She was ready.

...I'm scared, Luka. I thought I had my clarity, but I don't. Something's wrong.

Then, almost on cue, the train screeched to a halt, jostling her out of her seat as the lights went off. The simultaneous sound of phones ringing followed soon after.

—————

Marinette held her breath, crouched down in the restroom while she listened closely for the sound of her parents' footsteps. Her throat let out a whine, but she managed to keep it silent enough to where she was sure that no one on the other side of the door would hear it. She'd have to leave eventually or risk being cornered, courtesy of the power being off and the restroom's lock being electronic, but she felt safe enough to pull out her phone.

She also set it on vibrate just in case.

There was a reasonable concern at first that Luka's texts would indicate that he'd fallen victim to the akuma, but what she found when she checked their conversation reassured her.

Marinette!

Is everything okay?

Did the akuma's power reach you? Did they call you too?

Marinette?

The panic in simple letters on a screen made her feel noticed and loved. Keeping enough of her focus on potential footsteps approaching outside the door, she typed out a reply:

Sorry. I had to run from my parents.

I'm okay. What about you?

-

You're alright. I'm so glad.

I'm okay too. I hid somewhere and I doubt anyone can find me.

-

That's good. Be careful.

-

You too.

She took another breath, certain she'd be captured soon if the akuma wasn't taken care of. The train was limited and there weren't many places to go, so unless she could find a blunt object to smash her parents' phones, she was at a loss.

Regardless, Luka was there, her phone vibrating as he added onto his previous text:

I know this isn't the time, and I hate that the akuma cut into the song we were writing, but I'm here for you, Marinette. Whatever's going on, I'll help you figure it out as long as you want me with you.

Her heart fluttered pleasantly, a pink blush even tinting her cheeks. She welcomed it, unlike the fear that'd come with the changed memories. Feeling the way she did for Luka was too natural to be afraid in any way.

Thank you, so much. You're the only one I could trust with something like this.

She meant it. She'd trusted Alya with her identity in a moment of weakness, and even passed the ladybug earrings to her, yet that somehow paled in comparison to the emotions she was choosing to share. Luka would take her seriously, she was sure, even if she came up with the craziest theory in the world for why her feelings and memories were the way they were. He wouldn't doubt her, or laugh, or dismiss her as "Marinette being Marinette."

And as she sat there, completely without a miraculous or any way to get back to Paris without help, she reached up with her free hand and tugged at her earlobe, processing what she could with the information she had as one such theory started to form in her head. The fear from before never quite went away, but the idea of figuring things out with Luka brought her a sense of comfort.

Though perhaps, when she got back to Paris, she would take back her miraculous with a sense of hesitance that she hadn't had before, and there would be some testing that followed after the fact, because there were two things she refused to give up from her experience on the train.

Her sense of freedom and choice, and the feelings for Luka that she can't believe she ever questioned.

Or, if her working theory was correct, that her miraculous had her question.

[crescentsteel]

Just Friends - Part 10

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo, model fem reader genre: fluff, smut, slow burn, angst  word count:  7k

A/N [More at the end]: 

I reviewed and edited Chapters 1 and 2 a bit because I kinda cringed at the errors and my writing was wonky (more than it already is now). No plot changes don't worry.

Thank you for all those who read this, especially to those who took their time to comment and feedback. It meant the world to me who stayed up later than usual and poured my heart out on this.

Part 9 || Epilogue || m.list

You instantly snapped your head up with expanded eyes. Despite the sternness his voice contained, you saw the delicate swirl of complex  emotions in his eyes, one that you haven’t seen him display before. You saw how the contrast of heartache and relief graced his features. 

“I love you, y.n.”

The quietness gave way for you to hear every single word he said. It was gently uttered, but firm on what it meant. 

It was almost magical, if not for the perplexity which came with that statement that enshrouded everything else.

As if the universe agreed with you, another set of lights landed on both of you, popping the enchanted bubble you two were in.

“Let’s go. We need to talk” He moved his hand from your waist to the back of your shoulder and guided you to his car. Still unable to regain your calm from what just happened, you absent-mindedly followed him and went inside the passenger’s seat.

“My place or yours?”

His question made you buck yourself up to the present again. It was the question that started your indecent affairs with Kuroo, and now he’s using it to settle what branched from said affairs.

“Did you really just ask me that?” You were unable to refrain yourself from retorting.

“What?” He asked back even though his eyes had a tender playfulness to them. He clearly knew what you meant but wanted you to elaborate for his entertainment.

You just rolled your eyes and ignored it. “Yours.” You weren’t playing his game. You just rather resolve the issue at hand somewhere not in your place. The last time’s conflict left you feeling vacant when he walked out the door and you stayed there with gloom lingering on every space of your place. You couldn’t do anything because it was your home. You just let it evaporate on its own.

In case things go South like they always do, you wouldn’t want to worsen the state of your already sullied abode. 

So you let him start the vehicle and drive off.

“I really thought you were gone again,” he broke the fragile silence.

“What do you mean?”

“I went to your place and they told me you left. I assumed you flew somewhere insanely far away for the second time.” All the involute sentiments he was carrying a while ago dissipated. He’s back to his laid-back self.

“Why would you think that?”

He sneered as his eyes flashed with bitterness even as he stared at the road. “Cause that’s what you do, kitten. You run away when things get too inconvenient for you.”

What could you say to that? 

Nothing. He was absolutely right. 

You tried to prove to yourself that you weren’t a spoiled rich brat by working your butt off, but it was never too difficult for you. You worked hard, but everything went smoothly like how you wanted them to. 

But with Kuroo, everything was in shambles. And in every chance you had to make things right with him, you chicken out. You blamed external factors such as timing not being right or other people were in the way. But you always had your chance. You just despised the fact that you had to cross certain barriers to move forward with your relationship with him. You wanted things easy. 

Before you left, you really believed that you wanted to confess to him just to get some clarity on your relationship. So why did you stop talking to him at all? If that was your only goal, you could’ve talked to him the morning after. But you didn’t. Because you didn’t like the pain of facing him again when he was messing around with women other than you. So instead of facing it head on, you ran away. 

It was the same when you confessed dead drunk and forgot the next morning. You were scared that he didn’t feel the same way, so you took the safe way out. 

And when it was becoming too much again, you were tempted to do the same exact thing you did ago: remove all the complications in your life by getting away from the source of it - Kuroo. 

With your mind flooded with realizations, you didn’t notice that you arrived at his place already. 

At least that was what you thought because he stopped the engine, but the neighborhood wasn’t familiar to you.

“Where are we?” you asked. 

“My place. Duh.” He answered before getting out. It was sarcastic, but it cheered you up. He was back to how he used to treat you before the drunken fiasco. It was just three weeks but it felt like you haven’t heard his taunts far longer than that. That’s how much you missed him.

You followed him and stepped out of his car as well. He must’ve moved out just recently, probably when you weren’t talking much, or else you would’ve known. 

“Glad to know you moved out of that dump.” Even with the current situation, you couldn’t just stay quiet when your mind instinctively thought of something to get back to his snarky remark. 

“Dump, huh?” He was looking at a certain building that you surmised was where his new apartment was. He scoffed before looking at you.

“Wonder why you agreed to let me fuck you in that dump though.” His grin spread wide enough that his teeth showed, clearly pleased with how he handled your usual battle of sarcasm.

You veered from his playful gaze and pursed your lips from the lack of a good response to bring down that haughty smile of his.

You regret ragging him on. You should’ve just stayed quiet. 

“Can we go inside now? It’s cold” You changed the topic being the loser that you were. 

“Come on then.” His satisfied smirk was still on his face knowing that he won that quick exchange. He waited for you to go to his side, then started walking towards the building.  

When you came back to the country, you thought it was odd that still stayed in his previous place. You were positive that he could afford to get a nicer one. Now it made sense. He was saving up for this. 

While heading to his unit, you could tell from the interior and the exterior of the building that the price of the place was above average. 

Inside the elevator, there was only you and him. He was about to press his floor number, but his hand stopped mid air before putting it down again.

“Wanna guess what floor I’m in?”

“And if I get it wrong?” He didn’t have to say it out loud for you to know where he was going with it. It was one of your gambling games. 

“You owe me nothing but the truth tonight.” Your bets were fun and the stakes were always petty but the weight of his stare let you know that the intent behind it was nothing compared to your previous wagers. 

He would demand nothing else but the truth from you when you two start to talk about the issue at hand. 

You found it strange. Of course, you would be honest. That’s the point of the conversation you’d be having when you reach his unit. 

But since he was acting like candor was of great worth to get from you, you’d ask for something of similar value. 

“If I get it right, I’m getting your Nekoma jersey. The one with No.1 on it.”

He was obviously taken aback from what you asked for. “Why that?”

“Why not?” You immediately asked back. 

He looked at the numbers on the side of the elevators while he scratched the roof of his teeth with tongue. 

“I changed my mind. I want all of them.”

“Huh?!”

“The odds aren’t right. There are 40 floors and the chance of getting it right is only 1/40. If you’d think about it, I’m even being generous.”

He clicked his tongue, acknowledging that your point was valid. “Deal.”

You instantly responded without even thinking twice, “22.”

You wished you could’ve captured his reaction. 

“You were already eyeing 22, dumbass. Your hand literally stopped in front of that number.” You shook your head as you snickered from that tiny victory, letting it take some of your tension away. “Say goodbye to your jerseys tonight,” you added. 

He usually won’t make such a mistake during your gambles. And because he did, you worked out that he must be distressed too. 

“Fuck.” He cursed then pressed the button you just said.

“Ugh fine, you can keep one.” You felt bad cause you even though the probability of you winning was low, the stakes for you were basically a given. 

The way on his unit was spent arguing on why the deal should be void because it wasn’t really a gamble since you already knew the answer. 

On his doorstep, you both hastenly arrived at a compromise of getting only his captain’s jersey, knowing that the inescapable confrontation is about to take place.

When he opened the door, it was nicer than you expected. It was modern looking with its minimalist interior and gray, black, and white tones. Your place was bigger but this looked more spacious because there weren’t unnecessary furnitures. 

The click of the door brought you back to why you were here. All the monkeying around a while ago was just a prelude to this and any impact it had on you was diminishing by the second. Things were about to get serious. You could feel anxiety crawling back to your skin. 

You didn’t wait for his hospitality and sat yourself on the couch. 

He immediately went after and sat beside you. 

You shook your head. “No.”

“What?” A frown creasing his forehead from the ‘no’ that came out of nowhere. 

“Don’t sit near me. It makes me uncomfortable.” It might have been rude, but you just had to say it. You want your mind working functionally so you can’t have him anywhere near your personal space. 

Instead of getting offended, he eyed you with consideration before standing up. He got a chair from his dining area and sat a good few steps away from you. He crossed his legs and arms. 

“So?” He proceeded, imploring you to be the first one to open the conversation that was suspended by the vehicle earlier. 

“What do you mean ‘so’?” You laughed sourly. “You’re the one supposed to explain things. Do you expect me to just accept what you said a while ago?”

He threw you a questioning look. “Is it really that hard to believe?” “You avoided me for weeks. When I tried to make up with you, you brushed me off cause you were seeing someone else. So my apologies for being so skeptical,” your last sentence full of uninhibited scorn.

“Who said I was seeing her? She’s just a volleyball player I’m working with.” If this was a normal conversation, he’d definitely have some snide comments to go along with it. But he didn’t swerve to his usual smugness. He remained pensive.

You couldn’t think of a decent reply except for an timid “Oh” that came from your mouth. You’re reassured that it wasn’t like that, but it was overpowered by the shame brought by your incorrect assumption.  

He didn’t wait for you to recover as he asked right away, “Why did you ignore me after that?” 

But despite the embarrassment, your brain was still running its engine properly. So you skillfully evade his query. “You still haven’t told me why you avoided me prior to that.”

He puffed a heavy breath. “I didn’t know how to get back to that friendship bullshit that you wanted so bad.” He uncrossed his legs and slouched with his elbows on his thighs. “Now answer my question,” he commanded.

“Well.. I didn’t want to intervene with whatever or whoever it is you’re busy with,” you said a bit too quickly without explaining further. “My turn again,” you continued on/

“No. I addressed two things from you so it’s still my turn,” he firmly asserted.

You were about to retaliate but he beat you to it with his own question. “How many times have I made you cry?”

It was an abrupt one that wasn’t in line with the previous questions that preceded it. You flinched from how it hit that certain memory you thought you moved on from.

“Never. What gave you that idea?” You denied as fast as you could. He didn’t have to know that insignificant detail. ‘It doesn’t  matter’ you told yourself even though you knew it was your pride that wouldn’t let you answer truthfully.

You’re glad to have won the bet earlier. Even though you thought you were going to be completely honest, there were just some details that need not be known.

Heated stares replaced words as both of you waited until the other withdrew. He was glaring at you, looking for an ounce of deceit. Too bad for him though because you have no intentions of folding. 

You arose the winner when he’s the first to concede as he straightened his posture from slouching. He leaned back on the backrest of his chair and sighed exasperatedly. 

“Man, I’d like to complain, but I guess your tenacity is one of the reasons why I fell for you.”

You were doing so well but with what he just said, your heart is back to the mess it was when he pulled you to him and said he loves you for the first time.

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” His smug grin back to its former glory, making you even more flustered than you already were.

“How can you say things like that so indifferently?” You voiced out, irritated at how he’s so relaxed while youre all wound up.

“Look. I’ve been keeping my mouth shut ever since you came back. Now that it’s out in the open, I’ll say it as much as I want to.”

Did you hear him correctly? He said ‘since you came back.’ When exactly did he start having feelings for you? 

“What do-”

“Hold it right there. You don’t get to ask anything yet since your last answer was a lie.”

You groaned. He shouldn’t be allowed to call you tenacious when he’s even worse than you are when he wants to be. “It is not. So let’s move on,” you tried to proceed but he cut you off right away.

“Kenma told me.”

Your solid defiance rapidly chipped from your secret being found out by the person you wanted to hide it from. You could only guess that Kenma told him just now. That’s why he was on a rampant chase to find you. 

The earlier gamble made sense now. He anticipated your refusal to admit what happened back then, back before you left. So he wanted to ensure that you would be forthright about it. 

Even after losing the bet, his goal was still secured for he had Kenma’s story as proof.

You tried to feel any hostility towards Kenma but you didn’t have it in your heart to do so. You trusted Kenma. He must have had a good reason for telling Kuroo now when he’d kept it well for more than a year.

“Fine,” you said under your breath. 

“Too many that I didn’t bother counting.”

Guilt darkened the diffidence on his face. He must not have expected that you would be the type to cry over a guy, especially him who started his relationship with you only as a bed warmer.  

But you went on with your previous question since that’s what was pervading in your mind. “When did you realize?” You were really curious since when the feeling has been mutual between the two of you. 

“Realize what?”

“That you l-,” you hesitated, reluctant to fully spat out the phrase completely even though he already said it first hand. Looking back, you don't know how you convinced yourself to admit your feelings to him when you’re stuttering from a trifling thing such as this. 

“That I love you?”

You staved off away from his perfervid stare, not able to handle it as you replied a brash “Yeah” to maintain your tough façade.

“At the very same night you were supposed to confess.”

You harshly returned your gaze to him. “Was that a joke?” You chuckled wryly. “In case you forgot, I was there.” 

You were grateful to Kenma being there at that moment, but it’s different when it’s finally Kuroo you’re confronting. You could feel all the unaddressed bitterness you buried deep inside take over you.

“I was hoping to get an honest conversation. Instead, I arrived at the godforsaken bar,” you continued with a forced smile, “and stood watch as you made that first move to kiss her, how you pulled her close like ….  like you couldn’t get enough.” The particular scene tore you back then and it does just the same now. Before you knew it, warm liquid pooled in the corner of your eyes without any warning. 

You turned your head sideway and let your hair cover your face. 

You didn’t want him to see how your lips quivered as you fend off a whimper that was already at the back of your tongue

You sealed shut any feelings you had for that certain chapter of your relationship with Kuroo. So you couldn’t understand the surge of sullenness that flowed through you. It must be from how paradoxical his narrative seemed. 

How could he claim to love you when he enjoyed the sultry company of another?

If Kuroo would think of two words to describe your personality, it would be determined and composed, to the point that you can seem cold and apathetic at times. You were the kind of person who didn’t give two shits to anything you found unnecessary or irrelevant. 

Since he met you, you constantly had your guard up as if people will find something awful if they get a tiny peek of what you really are. He couldn’t do something about that. He didn’t have any right to. You two were only fucking around. He later figured out that you didn’t want people to know who you really were - an heiress and a successful model. 

That’s why you traded carefully around people. 

But when you came back and asked only for friendship, you still had your fences up like you were hiding something. He thought maybe because you’ve had them up for so long that you didn’t know how to turn it off, even for him whom you considered a friend. 

So to see you struggling to keep your walls up that were slowly crumbling, he realized why you have a soft spot for Kenma. He’s already seen what you tried so hard to protect.

Disobeying your earlier instruction to not sit beside you, he stood up from the chair and moved to your side. 

When you saw him do so, you didn’t say anything. You only raised your hand to nimbly wipe your tears that were already falling. He grabbed your hand you were using and held it still on your lap. He replaced it with his own, drying your tears with his fingers. 

It was the least he could do with being the cause of it, and he was glad you let him even though you still kept your eyes away from him.

He trailed his fingers down your jaw and slightly lifted your face so he could look at you. What he saw was unrefined vulnerability, and even then, you wore it beautifully. 

He finally understood. That wall you built when you met again was exclusively for him. You guarded your heart from him. You created the friends only set up so you wouldn’t get hurt again.

It made him feel like shit. You really did love him back then, enough to cause you this pain.

“I’m sorry. I was half-assed about it at the time. Nothing more happened with me and whoever that girl was. I just,” he trailed off knowing that the next thing he’s going to say is gonna sound stupid. “used her to see if what I felt for you was real.”

You raised your gaze to him with eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“I know it’s idiotic, okay?” His voice took a slightly defensive tone as you were about to judge his line of thinking back then. “But we were only fuck buddies. I didn’t want to start a relationship with you then realize that I was just confusing the comfort of your company with something as serious as love.”

He stroked your knuckles after he explained.

“I really am sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” His words dripping with remorse from every single tear that you shed for him without him knowing. 

“Why tell me only now? It’s been months since I came back.”

“You were insanely driven on being friends only. I didn’t think you feel the same way.”

No one said anything after. He couldn’t tell if you’re aware of it too, but he could feel tension in his every vein as his next question dangled on the tip of his tongue. 

“Do you?”

You bit your lip as you averted your eyes downwards again. 

“You know the answer to that already.”

Indeed he does. You wouldn’t be this affected if you didn’t. But he has to hear it directly from you. He has to hear you say you love him for real this time. 

“I need it to come from you.” He gently held your cheek to guide you back to his gaze. He needs to see the entirety of your face, especially your eyes, when you finally tell him how you truly feel about him. 

“I… I-” He could see your strenuous struggle to get the phrase out. You eminently tried as you kept uttering the first syllable but nothing after that. “I can’t say it,” you said defeatedly. 

He should be frustrated. He laid out all his cards open for you to see, but you refused to do the same when you had one last face down card that would declare the game over where you both win. 

But he held nothing but patience. He could wait for the phrase he’d been longing for as long as he made sure of something.

“You don’t have to if you can’t say it. But I’ll be honest. I,” he let out a deep breath before continuing, “I can’t stand us being friends only anymore.”

He removed his light grasp on your face as his hand travelled to the one that he hasn’t been holding. He lightly squeezed your fingers to get you to heed the attention he needed from you. 

“Be my girlfriend, y/n. Be mine.”

If you say no at this point, he’d lose his mind.

With his focus solely on you as he waited for an answer, he saw a subtle nod from you.

“Okay.”

It might seem too simple and bland of an answer. But you two had been going on through ragged stops for a year that he couldn’t care about trivial crap like that. 

It wasn’t sweet and he found that perfectly okay. Because it was you. He just needed you to finally let him be more than just fuck buddy, more than a friend.

And when your lips tugged on both corners to form a smile that was directed at him, especially for him, it made his heart soar.

“Is this really happening?”

You had the gall to be skeptical when his actions never hid his affection for you. He just didn’t say it out loud.

“You bet your ass it is.” Instead of his usual shit-eating smile that would’ve accompanied his response, his smile mirrored yours.

You were both happy.

Unable to contain himself, he acted on what always wanted.to without anything holding him back. 

He kissed you. 

No alcohol and no bullshit involved, just taking in that first touch of your lips as officially your lover.

His hands travel up to your shoulders as he scoots over to have you closer. You taste and feel ethereal. It was unlike any kiss you’ve shared in the past. The ache he had for you this whole time was being lulled by how your soft lips cascaded on his. 

His one hand goes up to the base of your neck while he parts your lips so he can have better access on the wonders of your mouth. 

You sighed helplessly to the kiss before withdrawing just a bit, your warm breaths still mingling with one another. 

“Wait,” you gasped inches away from his lips before burrowing your face on the crook of his neck. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly, stroking your neck and shoulder to soothe whatever it is that’s bothering you.. 

“It feels weird.”

“Weird how?”

You lifted your head and looked at him with the most insane blush he’s seen from you. Your cheeks were a rosy fury that highlighted a foreign countenance in your face. Your orbs were glossy and sparkling with a tiny hint of naivety that he’s never seen from you. Your mouth was compressed in a thin line that he could tell was done to prevent the trembling of your lips that was still slightly evident.

He managed to get another unknown aspect of you to surface, and goddamn what a pleasant surprise it was. 

He loves your confidence. It was sexy. But bashfulness was an exceptional look on you too. It provided depth to your character which was already fascinating to him to begin with. 

He couldn’t wait until he could fully discover everything about you, even the one you still weren’t aware of. 

“It’s like I’m overwhelmed by something until I can’t breathe. But I… I like it?” You glowered right after describing it, probably thinking that it sounded asinine. 

He was amused and charmed at the same time from how you tried to put into words how he was making you feel. 

“You do realize we’ve fucked countless times already.” He couldn’t resist goading further even when he knew exactly what you were talking about. 

“You don’t say,” you riposted, gaining your smart-assery back to which he laughs at. 

“God, I really love you.”

He lunges to claim your lips once more, his need to have more of you back with heightened intensity.

You were getting dizzy from how he was kissing you. It was much more needy than the previous one. You still haven’t fully grasped what just happened and yet he’s already filling your senses, making you forget the tiny insignificant details and retaining only one fact that mattered. 

You and him. 

His hand on your shoulder wanders down to your waist while you grasp his biceps for support as he pulls you even closer until you were straddling him. 

His mouth did not linger too long on yours as it impatiently trailed down your neck, interchanging loving kisses with hungry sucks that stirred your thirst for him.

You remembered some parts of the drunken sex you had, but they were just flashes and blurred images. The sensation from the experience wasn’t retained. 

It seemed like a far away memory compared to how he was making you feel at the present moment.

You suddenly feel him slip his hand underneath your shirt, palming your bare skin upwards until it reaches one soft mound which he doesn't hesitate to squeeze.

“Haaaa. Kurooo, wait,” you plead breathlessly. You were getting overwhelmed by how he swiftly fanned the flames of desire that was spreading throughout your body.

His lips left the sensitive skin of your collar and met your gaze with restrained hunger.

“What is it?” 

You didn’t know what to say. Did you want him to slow down or just have his way with you already?

He must have noticed your conflict so he decided for you. 

He chose the latter.

Both his hands scurried to your hips, guiding you to raise them slightly while his lips find their way to yours again. Not bothering to remove or even tug down your leggings, he slid one hand inside which was welcomed by your slick arousal. 

“Why’d you stop me when you’re already this wet?” He asked with pride flickering in his eyes knowing that it was him who caused it. 

But he did not let you answer as he shoved one finger in your core.

“Aahh,” your eyes closed shut and your thighs tremble from the sudden pleasure as your hands move to clutch his shoulders to anchor yourself. You rest your forehead on his while puffing heavily. 

“Kuroo...” you whimpered.

He steadies you with one hand, but does not relent as he inserts one more digit.

“Hmmm?” You could tell that he was enjoying your wanton surrender just from the way he sounded. 

“It feels too much,” you admitted. 

“Too much? Oh kitten, we’ve barely even started.”

He took the hem of your shirt and lifted it up. “Bite it,” he commanded and you complied obediently. 

He hoists your bra down your chest, exposing your unclad breasts to him. He eagerly takes one perk nipple in his mouth while his one hand goes around your waist. He retacts his fingers inside and rubs the bundle of nerves above your slit in hurried circles that were driving you to the brink of madness. 

He was right. This was still foreplay, but you were already so feverish. 

Your moans were muffled by how hard you were biting the cotton fabric of your shirt. 

“Take your shirt off. I want to hear you,” his voice raspy as he stopped everything he was doing that was making you feel good. You quickly yanked your shirt off so he could go back to doing them right away.

 As soon as your top was thrown away, he inserted the same fingers back again and started pumping in and out aggressively. 

With his request and the absence of your shirt, nothing was repressing the salacious sounds that were coming out of your mouth

The heat in the pit of your groin was building up too fast. It was a very steep peak that he was rapidly coercing you to reach. 

“Feels-ahh-so good.”

He groaned in response. He took out his digits and loosened his hold of you which made you flutter your eyes open. 

“Let’s take this to my bed,” he said ruggedly as he was about to get up. 

You firmly grasp his shoulders to stop him. “Wait.”

A dash of timidness came over you again which you couldn’t understand. Just like he said earlier, you’ve had a lot of sex. You did things more scandalous than what you had in mind, but you feel flustered just thinking about saying it out loud. 

“What is it?”

“Uhh,” you swallowed your nerves. “Do you mind getting your couch dirty?” 

He raised an eyebrow from your question, but was immediately followed by a riveting smile upon realizing what you meant. 

“Not all,” he took off his shirt then proceeded to unclasp your bra that was still lugged your breasts. 

“We can get it dirty as much as we want,” he whispered right in your ear. 

--

Sex with Kuroo before usually ended with both of you scramming to get water or go to the bathroom to clean up. Then when you went back to his bed, both of you just settled down in  whatever position you were comfortable in. 

Holding each other after sex just was never on the table. No one talked about it and no one initiated so you figured both of you weren’t into it. You weren’t sure about him but you found the act too intimate to do between casual sexmates.

You had no idea it felt this good to be cradled by him.

Your head was nested on his arm that he extended for you. His other one was enveloped around your waist and your face and hands were burrowed on his chest. 

“This is nice,” was an understatement that you breathed on his skin.

“Mmhmm. More especially since you’re awake and sober,” he hummed on your hair.

“Hmm?”

He chuckles lightly as he caresses your hair delicately, his fingers sometimes grazing your nape. 

“Yeah, I held you like this the night of my birthday instead of going back.”

You definitely had no memories of that. You knew he took care of you, but you didn’t think he got cozy in bed afterwards. 

“I thought awww poor you. You seemed like you could use a cuddle. You did beg me to fuck you after all.”

Typical of him, he had to be an ass and ruin the moment. 

But you didn’t believe him. You knew that’s not what happened. You did kiss him first and asked him to stay, but you did not beg. Even if you did forget everything, you still wouldn’t believe him. You’re not the type of person to beg.

“Don’t invent stories just because you wanted to feel me up after sex.” 

His chest rumbles within your touch as he worked up a laugh from your snappy comeback. “You’re really something, kitten.”

“You’re gonna keep calling me that, huh?”

He cranes his head back a bit, creating some space between you. You could tell he was peering at you.

“Don’t like it?”

You smile at his question. You found the nickname tacky at first, but it kind of got stuck with you. He’s never called you any other pet names other than that and it made you feel like it was solely for you.

“No, I love it.”

You tilt your head up a bit to look at him.

“I love you.”

You were so apprehensive earlier because of the torment that still lingered from the many failed attempts to tell him so. 

You thought you would need more time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case as he easily whisked your worries away just by being with him like this. 

You were finally able to tell him sincerely in your own accord. You didn’t realize keeping these feelings all to yourself was so heavy that letting it out was such a liberating experience.

As you free your chest with the restless burden of secretly loving him, you don’t feel empty because your heart was filled with content from knowing that he loves you just the same.

It reflects on his face, more so now that his smile is growing broader by the second which was accompanied by a noticeable flush on his cheeks that was illuminated by the dim light of his night lamp.”

“I love you too, y/n.” His eyes exuding profound adoration for you.

“I had my chance to tell you the morning after I got wasted. I just-”

“Hey,” he cut you off then removed his hand on your waist to cup your neck, his thumb brushing gently the curve of your jaw. 

“I have you now. That’s all I care about,” the elated smile still not leaving his face. 

“I can see that. You look too freaking happy,” you said as revenge for how he ruined your moment just a while ago. 

“Well, sorry I’m not emotionally constipated like you,” he quickly outwitted your attempt to mock him. 

“You scumbag,” you hissed despite his blissful smile infecting you. 

He pulls you again closer to him until your bodies stripped off of any clothing are perfectly molded against each other. 

“Yea yea, say whatever you want but I’m the scumbag you love.” Even when you couldn’t see his face anymore, you could still hear how enraptured he was. 

And so were you as you snuggled with him until you fell asleep. 

--

“Sorry, I’ll be a little late, kitten. I need to be here for a while even though the game ended already.”

You could hear him scuffling around with the dwindling sound of excitement in the background. 

You’re already late from your planned time, but he was running even later. Not that you were upset. You didn’t have major plans or anything. You just agreed to go to his place together since you’re spending the night there. 

“You have my keys, right? You can go ahead.”

“I can go there and wait for you,” you suggested since you still have some energy left from the orderly photoshoot you had this late afternoon. Also, you’d just be restless waiting for him at his apartment. 

“You sure?” He asked even though you were sure he’s smiling judging from the way he sounded. 

“Yup.”

“Okay then! Have to hang up now though. Love you, kitten,” then he ended the call. 

It’s been almost a month now since you two were officially together but he sometimes still catches you off guard with how he expresses his love for you without reservations. But you have no complaints. 

Upon arriving in Tokyo Stadium, there were only a few people inside, and some of those few are heading out. 

Thank goodness for that. Even if you weren’t feeling tired, you didn’t wanna get squashed by Volleyball enthusiasts. It would also make your bed-headed boyfriend much easier to find. 

You don’t want to call him just yet. He’s probably still occupied so you’ll just look for him. 

As you paced the area unsurely, you were starting to doubt your decision to look for him on your own. You had no idea stadiums had this kind of structure on the inside since you’ve never gone in one. You thought it was just one big open area with elevated benches.

Instead of going inside the actual playing arena, you went to the narrow halls that branched to the sides of the building.

Just before passing a certain corner, someone emerged from a room that you weren’t aware was actually there.

“Oy Hinata, I’m going ahead if you keep being a slowtard,” a tall, dark-haired man aggressively stated before walking towards your direction.

“Kageyama, you impatient turd!” A bright orange-haired guy, who’s probably called Hinata, came out right after, hurrying to go after the dark haired one who’s most likely Kageyama.

Before he could even pass you by, you lock eyes with Hinata.

A snap of familiarity hits you both.

“Waah. Ms. Pretty!” He said in English, completely and overwhelmingly affable that it was almost adorable.

Oh right, you spoke in English the first time you met.

“Hello.” You smiled politely, still holding up your non-Japanese speaking facade.

Kageyama stopped walking and turned his attention to you. He bowed then looked at Hinata. “You know her?” He asked in Nihongo.

“Not really. But it was kinda funny, Kuroo-san called her ‘kitten’ but she didn’t really know him,” Hinata grinned from amusement only but Kageyama didn’t respond.

Hinata frowned and took a semi defensive stance. “You better not tell Kuroo-san I said that.”

You just alternate your gaze between the two men, deciding whether you should admit that you could actually speak Nihongo and that you’re looking for Kuroo or just let things play out as is. 

“What’s the noise all about?” 

Another set of recognizable faces turned up - fake blondie, curly, and black and white.

It wasn’t hard to guess why they were there. They were athletes. They weren’t just guests in the event. They were most likely brand ambassadors too, except for Kageyama. It’s the first time you saw the man. 

They must be part of the national team. Kuroo did say it was an international match today.

Fake blondie’s face lit up as soon as his eyes landed on your face. He quickly made his way to approach you, passing by Hinata when he did.

“You lost, pretty girl?” It contained everything Hinata’s previous compliment lacked, pure flirtatiousness together with a come-hither smile. 

So the Volleyball national team can somehow speak English. Although, they still retained their heavy accents.  

You studied fake blondie in front of you and quickly decided that you wouldn’t date him even if you haven’t met Kuroo. The guy’s hot, but he seems like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Someone who you didn’t have to identify by his hair entered the scene, Yaku. 

You wave reservedly at him for you still haven’t forgotten how you acted around him the first you met.

“What’re you doing here?” He, then, turned to fake blondie. “Cut it out, Miya-san. I’m certain she’s not interested.”

“She can’t understand Nihongo, Yaku-san.” Black and white appeared to be whispering but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.. 

Yaku threw him a confused look. “What? I met her around two months ago. She’s a local, Bokuto.”

The Miya person scowled, “Geez. Could’ve saved me the trouble.”

You just ignored him and shifted your attention to Yaku. 

“I’m looking for Tet-” you cleared your throat. He’s been pestering you to call him ‘Tetsu’ every single day until you just succumbed to it and it became normal to you. You almost addressed him as such to these people who you presume he’s working with. 

“I’m looking for Kuroo.”

Yaku raised an eyebrow with intrigue twinkling on his whole face. “Oh?” 

“Mmmhmm,” you answered obscurely. 

“You friends or somethin?” Miya asked with an ounce of wariness, changing your initial thought of him being an idiot.

Yaku grinned. “They’re just friends,” he answered for you, obviously anticipating whether you’d agree or not. 

You weren’t ashamed of dating Kuroo, but you’ve had some kind of weird interaction with these people that involved Kuroo, save for Kageyama obviously. Poor guy must be confused at the novelty of what’s happening.

From behind Bokuto and the curly haired guy whose name you still have no idea what, the man you were looking for presented himself and walked towards you. 

Those he passed by had their eyes lingering on his back with Miya being the last person to notice him since Miya is the closest to you. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he puts a possessive arm around you, “ but this lost lady here is my girlfriend.” 

You tried to hold off a smile, but it was futile. You didn’t expect that announcing it to other people was that gratifying after more than a year of consistently telling people otherwise. . 

Damn it feels good to be more than just friends with Kuroo. 

A/N”

I want to cry. This was my very first fic and my very first series as well. I'm so happy to see it through and finish it.

I'm thinking of an epilogue maybe next year, but for now, I'm marking it as completed.

I love you all.

Part 9 || Epilogue ||  m.list

taglist (thos in bold and crossed out can’t be tagged)

@lia-faerie-queen @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @arendizzle @phantomneko0 @ysatrap @babythotshq @ameliaxo @miiy @kurooscoochie @lucifers-luv @suikrem

[sssrha]

WangXian wouldn’t have been very functional pre-Wei Wuxian’s resurrection

So I was talking to @litescheme on Twitter and I decided to pour my heart out about how I hated the general fandom consensus that Wei Wuxian going to Gusu when Lan Wangji asked him to would have solved all of his problems, primarily because the idea of just straight up going to Gusu is incredibly flawed. Lo and behold, they agreed wholeheartedly. We had a great discussion and now I’m here to relay the discussion onto Tumblr in essay form uwu.

(By the way, this is based mostly on CQL with a good bit of novel added in, as well as a few hints of the donghua.)

Part One: “Come back to Gusu!” is a great romantic notion but a terrible plan of action.

First of all, one must ask the question: what on Earth was Lan Wangji’s game plan with the whole “Come back to Gusu!” thing? I think we can all agree that most of the Lan Sect hated Wei Wuxian - by the end, at least. Lan Xichen certainly had less than charitable feelings toward him. With such a hostile environment, the only way I can see Wei Wuxian surviving within the Sect is while being forced into a Madam Lan-type situation. I find that prospect more reminiscent of a horror movie than a heartwarming fic about healing.

Luckily for us, we can safely say that canon Lan Wangji would not have done that! Due to certain childhood trauma, Lan Wangji definitely would not have forced Wei Wuxian to do anything, go anywhere, or stay anywhere that he didn’t want to. That isn’t even touching on how much Lan Wangji genuinely wanted Wei Wuxian to be happy, and forcing Wei Wuxian to do anything had generally been proven to not make him happy. Good on him!

The next point: why would Wei Wuxian have gone to Gusu in the first place? Even while ignoring WangXian’s rampant misunderstandings, Wei Wuxian always actively had a reason to not go to Gusu. During the Sunshot Campaign, he was a major player and commanded a huge amount of power that probably aided the Sects greatly. During his stay in the Burial Mounds, he had a community of war prisoners to protect. How could he go to Gusu?

I’ve seen fics where Lan Wangji ensured the safety of the Wen Remnants, and while I absolutely adore the trope, I really don’t see that happening with canon Lan Wangji. First, I don’t think he’d grown as a person enough to fully rebel against his Sect until Wei Wuxian was in immediate danger, and second, I straight up don’t think that he had the sway to. Pulling that kind of stunt implies a good deal of political power within the Sect...and also implies that Lan Wangji would have had enough power to escape a punishment which he clearly never thought he deserved. However, I could be wrong on this point! Politics has never been my forte. 

Also, I don’t think anyone can bank on the Lan Sect accepting the Wen Remnants. After all, the Lan Sect participated in the First Siege of the Burial Mounds and thus, presumably, also the slaughter of the Wen Remnants.

Upon further reflection, I figured that the only time Wei Wuxian might have actually gone to Gusu was that brief period of time after the Sunshot Campaign and before he met Wen Qing. However, for him to agree, I figured that three things had to happen:

Wei Wuxian had to understand that Lan Wangji wanted to help him, not hurt him.

Wei Wuxian had to come to the (false!) conclusion that Jiang Cheng no longer needed his help or support at Lotus Pier.

Wei Wuxian had to accept that he was worth saving in the first place.

(The concept came pre-set with some delicious Yunmeng Bros angst because Jiang Cheng would almost certainly take Wei Wuxian (permanently) going to Gusu the same way he took Wei Wuxian taking the Wen Remnants to the Burial Mounds: a betrayal, a promise broken. Emotionally, of course. There definitely wouldn’t have been political pressure closing in from all sides the way there was in canon.)

I was going to expand on that concept, but then I hit a bit of a hurdle: I genuinely did not, and still do not, see any reason for Wei Wuxian to actually go to Gusu. At that point, Wei Wuxian was doing everything he felt he needed to: he protected Jiang Cheng because Madam Yu told him to (and because he genuinely cared for him, but Madam Yu’s command was his driving force) and he only left Jiang Cheng when Wen Qing - someone he perceived himself owing a greater debt to due to the golden core removal - came along. When looking at it from that regard, I don’t think Wei Wuxian would ever see a reason to go to Gusu.

So, even after clearing up the miscommunication, Lan Wangji would have to present a good reason for Wei Wuxian to listen to him. 

I don’t think Lan Wangji going up to Wei Wuxian and saying, “Please come back to Gusu, I want to protect you,” would have worked. Considering how prideful Wei Wuxian was back then - with a good bit of it justified when you consider the fact that he killed a large amount of people in a single night during the Pledge Conference (though the exact number is never actually confirmed as far as I remember) - I don’t see Wei Wuxian taking the implication that he needs protection very well. No matter how many good intentions Lan Wangji had, he would have ended up offending Wei Wuxian at that point.

Another route Lan Wangji could have taken: “Please come back to Gusu, I want to play Cleansing for you.” Again, I don’t think this would have worked. (At least, that was definitely his stance in CQL and Wei Wuxian still didn’t do anything.) In Chapter 78, Wei Wuxian mentioned that the Sound of Lucidity had no effect on him. The Sound of Lucidity is, presumably, one of the Song(s) of Clarity, of which Cleansing is the most powerful. Lan Wangji used the Sound of Lucidity at the Pledge Conference after the battle had started. I don’t exactly know why he didn’t use Cleansing when it was more powerful... Either way, after he played the Sound of Lucidity, Wei Wuxian said, “You should’ve known since long ago—Sound of Lucidity is useless to me!” Thus, Lan Wangji asking him to go to Gusu so he could play Cleansing probably wouldn’t have seemed like an especially compelling reason to Wei Wuxian.

After some thought, I figured that post-resurrection, Wei Wuxian agreed to stay with Lan Wangji in the Cloud Recesses after the mystery was solved because:

He was not as prideful as pre-death Wei Wuxian.

He saw no reason to go back to Lotus Pier since Jiang Cheng made it very clear that he was unhappy with him.

He managed to process and confess his feeling to Lan Wangji, who did the same.

Pre-death Wei Wuxian has none of this. Basically, Wei Wuxian at that point had no reason to go to Gusu for anything other than a short visit.

Now, I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but this entire time I’ve been ignoring not only the reality that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s relationship pre-death was...very bad, but also something else very important: the Stygian Tiger Seal. 

The Stygian Tiger Seal was, of course, stupidly powerful, and Wei Wuxian only kept it because it would take too much time and energy to destroy, and it was meant to deter anyone from attacking him since he already knew that so many people were against him. One of his main fears was someone else - someone with impure motives - getting their hands on it, so of course he was paranoid wondering who would try to steal it from him. Lan Wangji asking him to go to a place where Wei Wuxian would be surrounded by people who hated his form of cultivation? Yeah, that didn’t sound that great. 

(Also, can we please take a moment to appreciate this excerpt from the novel: “The Stygian Tiger Seal’s powers were considerably greater than what he had imagined. He originally wanted to use it to assist him, but its powers were almost exceeding him, its creator” (Chapter 30). Almost. He said the Seal was not as powerful as him! The Stygian Tiger Seal was, indeed, strong, but he was more so! I see a lot of fanfics paint the Stygian Tiger Seal as what made him so terrifying and...it was certainly a part of it, but he did most of it on his own! Ah, we love terrifying main characters~)

Now, I’ve acknowledged the existence of WangXian’s miscommunication, but I’ve never actually addressed it. So, here it is: I do not think Lan Wangji confessing to Wei Wuxian (even before his stint in the Burial Mounds after the Bloodbath at Nevernight) would have gone well. In Chapter 2, there is this excerpt: “Wei WuXian’s eyebrows twitched. Not only a lunatic, a homosexual lunatic as well.” This requires a bit of interpretation because it’s not exactly clear what Wei Wuxian’s eyebrow twitch means, but I’ve always interpreted it as annoyance - or even disgust - at the addition of “homosexual” to Mo Xuanyu’s profile. I’m not saying that Wei Wuxian was necessarily homophobic before the entire events of the novel, but I sincerely don’t think Wei Wuxian would have appreciated Lan Wangji - or any other man, for that matter - confessing to him. If even (immediate) post-resurrection Wei Wuxian had that attitude, I can imagine what would have gone through pre-death Wei Wuxian’s head. 

So, Sunshot Campaign, post-Sunshot Campaign, and Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian would all definitely not go back to Gusu, nor would they appreciate a confession from Lan Wangji. That leaves the question: what about pre-Sunshot Campaign Wei Wuxian?

Part Two: Why I really don’t think WangXian would have worked out pre-Sunshot Campaign.

From here on out, “Wei Ying, come back to Gusu!” is no longer relevant because, well, Lan Wangji never said it before the meeting in the supervisory office. (And I think I’ve made my point regarding that as well as I could.)

Starting with Cloud Recesses-era Wei Wuxian...I think that, out of all the different versions of Wei Wuxian, he would have been the one of the two most-likely to get together with Lan Wangji (pre-resurrection, of course). Even then, I don’t see that high a likelihood of that actually happening. Why? Repression! Fuck both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were so deeply repressed at that point! Lan Wangji was obviously more aware of his feelings, and Wei Wuxian...I don’t know, I haven’t read the novel far enough to actually have this be a legitimate interpretation, but looking at CQL, I don’t really think Wei Wuxian was in love with Lan Wangji at that point (but I don’t have much evidence to back that up other than my a-spec radar...).

And even if they did somehow manage to overcome their repression - and actually both had feelings for each other in the first place - they were still teenagers! Fifteen at the beginning, I’m pretty sure, and fifteen-year-olds are decidedly bad at maintaining any sort of relationship. That doesn’t even touch on the fact that WangXian was probably legitimately incompatible at that point. Lan Wangji still lived and breathed the rules and Wei Wuxian didn’t give a fuck about them. To maintain any sort of long-term relationship, they’d have to simultaneously undergo a whole novel of character development...which is doable! But! I don’t exactly see it as plausible.

Then, of course, Wei Wuxian got kicked out of the Cloud Recesses and WangXian didn’t see each other until two years later, at the Discussion Conference in Qishan. I don’t really see long-distance relationships working out very well in ancient China, so I can’t imagine them properly maintaining their relationship throughout that. And, of course, Lan Wangji’s rage after Wei Wuxian pulls his forehead ribbon was also due to his repression. Considering how short the Discussion Conference seemed to be, I don’t think there was much room for a relationship to develop. 

At the Indoctrination Camp, Lan Wangji had a whole swarm of things to worry about other than his (frankly painful) pining for Wei Wuxian so, again, I don’t see a romantic relationship developing at that point in time. 

A time-frame that I think can be uniquely isolated as a very possible place to develop their relationship would be while they were trapped in the cave with the Tortoise of Slaughter. Mostly before they killed the beast, though, since afterward, Wei Wuxian had too much of a fever for any romantic shenaniganry. My reasoning is that the cave was the first time since Wei Wuxian’s punishment in the Cloud Recesses that the two of them were forced to spend a long stretch of time together, and thus could potentially open up to each other. I remember in the anime that Lan Wangji sheds a few tears as he mentions that the Cloud Recesses had burned, that his brother was missing, and that his father was...dead? Severely injured? One of those two. He was back in business-mode pretty soon afterward, but if Lan Wangji could have been persuaded to open up a bit more by an persistent and concerned Wei Wuxian, I can see a slow confession being teased out of him - there was certainly enough time!

Then again, them getting together would only happen if Wei Wuxian were both comfortable with the idea of gay men and willing to accept that he was, in fact, attracted to Lan Wangji, and if Lan Wangji were willing to let go of the rules enough to be comfortable with Wei Wuxian’s naturally rebellious nature.

After that, WangXian doesn’t meet again until the supervisory office, and I’ve already talked about all of that.

In conclusion, “Come back to Gusu!” was sweet but misguided and WangXian wouldn’t have effectively happened pre-resurrection.

Now, what does that mean for you? ...Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. This doesn’t mean I’m forsaking all fics where WangXian gets together pre-resurrection (in fact, I absolutely love them!) and I’m definitely not trying to say that my interpretation is the only right one. I’m not trying to police what everyone thinks and decree that all fics where Wei Wuxian is open about liking men are wrong or any crap like that. Those fics are great and I love them! These are my (and @litescheme’s) thoughts on the matter that I (we) wanted to spill out into the greater world! You can agree, you can disagree, you can ignore me (us) entirely! But if you read through this meta, then I’m assuming that you found the concept interesting. That is all I was going for!

(Well, that and trying to thoroughly debunk the notion that Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian getting shoved into seclusion in the Jingshi by an apologetic Lan Wangji would be in any way “healing” or even “good” for Wei Wuxian, because honestly? Fuck that.)

Ahh, thanks for reading!

[writerbyaccident]

Pride Cometh Before the Fall: Part One (Yandere LuciferxReader)

Request: An, where one of the brothers from obey doesn't realize they love the mc until she's already back in the human world. Her absence what triggers the realization, and yandere behaviour.

Part Two

           Every morning, every day, Lucifer awoke feeling more and more empty. No matter what he was doing, whether it was eating with his brothers, attending classes, or running student council meetings, there was still something missing. He wandered the halls of the academy, prowled through the wilderness of the Devildom, yet he could not find what it was that he was searching for.

           Meandering aimlessly through the halls of the House of Lamentation, Lucifer tried to puzzle it out. His heart felt as though it was made of glass, with deep and painful fissures that pierced him each and every time he breathed. As he moved through his home, that feeling of longing surged through him until he could choke on it. When did I first start feeling like this? Lucifer asked himself.

           From what he could recall, the first day that desperate yearning appeared was about two weeks ago, though it felt like an unbearable lifetime. Scouring through his memories, Lucifer tried to remember what it was that might have caused such a change in himself. There had been some trouble with Mammon around that time, and with Satan as well, but that was hardly anything out of the ordinary or noteworthy. Besides, the missing piece that he felt within was something that disappeared before those events anyway. In fact, Lucifer began to realize as he approached what had not long ago been your room, the feeling had made itself known right on the day when…when you left.

           Eyes widening in shocking clarity, Lucifer clutched his heart, remembering the powerful impulse that nearly overcame him that day, the impulse to take you into his arms and refuse to let you walk through that portal. He had mastered the impulse, scoffing and telling himself that he must have had a temporary bout of madness. You were due to go back to the mortal realm, after all. Lord Diavolo had sworn that you would be granted safe passage back once your year as an exchange student had been completed. Besides, he reassured himself, although he had grown fond of you, you were still a mortal, still a human. Not even a human with any considerable magic or power either, so how could he, the Avatar of Pride and Lord Diavolo’s most trusted adviser, become so attached to some mortal as to make such a pathetic display?

           But now—now that weeks had passed without seeing your beautiful smile, without hearing your sweet laugh, the pride that had kept Lucifer from admitting what you truly meant to him had weakened in the face of his overwhelming longing. He loved you. He loved everything about you: the innocence you held, the sound of your voice, the way that you saw him as no one else ever had. What use was there for pride, he asked himself as he swung open the door to your bedroom, when he did not have you? Walking around your room, Lucifer ran his hands over every possible surface in the attempt to find some reminder of you. But it seemed as though every piece of you, from your trinkets to your scent, had completely disappeared. Now this room was no more than a cruel reminder of what he needed. He needed you.

           “What am I supposed to do?” he asked the empty room, half-hoping that you would answer. “I can’t go on like this.”

           Wait.

           That’s right.

           That’s exactly right.

           He couldn’t go on with this pervasive emptiness that had taken over his whole mind, his whole heart. Already his duties had been suffering from your absence—from the very first day that you had left. So much in the Devildom depended on him, so much in the realm could not function without him, that bringing you back into his arms was more than desire, it was a necessity. Lucifer needed you, needed every last piece of you, and they had stolen you from him. Yes, you had been stolen. Stolen by the mortal world, stolen by mankind. Besides, considering how much he had done for his realm, how much he had sacrificed, wasn’t he owed the one thing in that he wanted above all else? Didn’t that mean that you were his, that you belonged to him?

           A resolve that he hadn’t felt in weeks resurfacing, Lucifer rose from your bed, a plan already forming in his mind. So intent was he on his need to bring you back to him, that he completely forgot to consider your feelings on the matter. But truthfully, if he had stopped to think of how you might feel, he would have realized that it didn’t matter to him. He wanted you, so he deserved you, so he would have you. And he would be damned if he let anything get in his way.

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[waeteeth]

Location: The Woods Ft: @anemosofnyx, @mavenlockwood, & @phobetos

He doesn’t quite know how to deal with it, being around so much magic and yet...Jamie looks to Maven and then to the two oneiroi. He trusts Anemos completely, Phobetos he trusts to want to do right by Patroclus. It felt right to do the whole thing where he’d buried her, even if it was just for his own peace of mind. Maven was alive, well, she was about to be more alive, and she was right there next to him. He’s not really sure what he’s doing there aside from just being emotional support. “How long’s it gonnae take?” He has a hand on Maven’s shoulder, but he’s looking towards Anemos, they were older, he figured they had the most experience. Or at least he hoped so, for all of their sake.

This isn't the first time Anemos has assisted a vampire to return to their former state. There was a woman once, who approached them with Anathema, begging for release from what she had considered a curse. Though they had little interest in being of assistance to the stranger, it was the idea behind the ritual that piqued their interest — to touch a piece of their power they had never been capable of before on their own. It had only been proof of the fact that the oneiroi are more powerful together than they are alone. While they were never particularly one to help someone out of the goodness of their soul, it is for Patroclus and Jamie that they agreed to this request without complaint. The young vampire looks fidgety, out of place amongst the older immortals that stand around her, and the curious hazel eyes of Grace's features fall on her form for a moment, before redirecting to Jamie. "It'll be over and done with before you know it."

It's becoming very, very real to Maven that this is all happening now. It feels like they've danced around the topic for so long, it felt more like a daydream, a distant what if that might never come to fruition. But as she stands here in the forest, Jamie at her side, the reality is setting in. Either this works, or... Or she's a vampire forever. Or something worse. The thought in itself is frightening, that regardless of the outcome, the rest of her life is going to be decided tonight. Her arms cross against her chest, a subconscious defensive posture to protect herself. As long as she's been a vampire, she's felt so... Strong. Dangerous. The thing that goes bump in the night, not the one who falls victim. But right now, Maven can't help but feel infinitely small. "The sooner it's done, the better."

For this, Phobetos arrived as Yasemin- a comforting face that they had presented to the vampire in their first meeting. This was new to them, in all of their years they had yet to have seen this aspect of their ability: it required two oneiroi and a vampire who was willing, and it was an opportunity that hadn't presented itself to them until now. Dark eyes shifted to Anemos, and they did little to hide their hungry curiosity. The vampire's jaw clenched and the spirit studied her features intently, before reaching out an open hand for her to take. A comforting gesture, mortals liked that. "Nothing will harm you."

It would probably be considerably rude to tack onto that sentiment that Jamie wasn't going to let them hurt her. But he figured that wouldn't have Maven all that confident in the spirits. But he does turn to her again, offers a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. "I wouldnae let anythin' happen tae ye." Not again, not after last time. He gives her a slight nudge forward before letting go of her and stepping back, unsure how far he should actually go. He settles on a few feet and crosses his arms over his chest, just watching.

It's hard for her not to feel trepidation about this whole thing. There's a voice in the back of Maven's head that's screaming that this is too much of a risk, to back out now and run for the hills and just accept the fact that this is the way her life is going to be. Self preservation has always been a powerful instinct for Maven, something she has to actively shove down in this moment. Because despite how much the possibility of things going wrong frightens her, she can't remember the last time she's wanted something so much. She looks down at the oneiroi's extended hand, reaching her own out hesitantly until it grasps onto them, stepping forward into the small clearing they've chosen for this event. A cluster of braids fall over her shoulders as she turns to look back at Jamie once more, seeking comfort in his presence, before her attention returns to the spirits. "Okay, I'm ready."

They believe the human expression to be like riding a bike. Something about how, once you learn, you never forget it — except perhaps that's not entirely accurate, because it always felt more or less ingrained inside Anemos. It had been that way before, the last time they had done it all those years ago, and is the same today, as they stand in front of the two vampires. "She'll be just fine," Anemos offers in assurance, to both Maven and Jamie, though they're speaking to him. The oneiroi steps forward, closing the distance between themselves and the woman, gesturing with a toss of their head for Phobetos to follow in suit. "Just hold still. No matter what happens, or what you feel." This time it's Maven that they address. They place one of their hands against her collarbone, the feeling of cold skin beneath their fingertips.

Her hand in theirs is cool, and Phobetos looked over at Anemos for direction. Fingers close and tighten in reassurance, providing a firm grip as they wedge themselves between Jamie's vantage point and Maven- a last act of mischief, closed off with the lift of a pointed shoulder. Their other hand raised, holding the vampire's within the two, and they waited for words. It felt like something vestigial, like an unused muscle, the twitch of magic within them knew what to do but the spirit would not proceed without the other.

It's a lot to see, it's a lot to feel and he's never really felt comfortable in the presence of magic period. It's too unpredictable and she means too much to him for this to go sideways. But he can't very well sit there and pace and so his fingernails bite into the palms of his hands as he wills himself to just stay put. While he's curious as to how the whole thing even works, his attention is very much fixed on the youngest being there. He trusts both of the spirits, despite Hyacinth's warning, because he has to in the moment. Granted, he's watching over Phobetos's shoulders, the wee spooky shit had purposefully gotten in the way and he has half a mind to stalk a couple of paces to the left out of sheer spite. But he's determined to be unmoved for Maven.

It's time to let go of the human facade, to reach inside to the magic that resides within Anemos. Grace's hazel eyes give way to a bright blue glow, along with the runes on the palms of their hands, illuminating against Maven's skin as they grip the vampire. It's like tugging on a thread, pulling their magic forth to flow through them and out through their fingers, straight into the vampire. A purification, of the body and the soul, to restore what once was; cutting away at the threads that held the young woman in the clutches of Persephone, repairing the connection to Hecate that was severed in it's place. The goddess is not so choosy, unlike some, and does not reject the return of one of her own, the witch safely accepted back into the fold of her followers. It's a body coming back to life, a warmth blooming into Maven's chest as lungs begin to breathe again, and the pulse of a once dead heart beats underneath their fingertips. A second chance at life. And just like that... "It's done," they announce aloud, allowing their magic to recede from the witch and back into themselves, the illumination of the blue glow already beginning to fade.

There's one final moment in Maven's head where she thinks to turn and run, wonders if Jamie would hate her if she backs out now, but instead she stands firm. She doesn't like the sound of the oneiroi's words, the warning that accompanies them, but Maven nods her head regardless and grits her teeth. Phobetos still holds onto her hand, and she squeezes back tightly, wondering if they can even feel the pressure. Dark eyes focus on the one directly in front of her, and though she does not need breath, Maven still finds her's catching at the sight of their magic on display. And then she feels it. She doesn't know what she was expecting, for a body to be brought back to life. Strange isn't a fully accurate way to describe it, what starts as a tingling sensation spreading through her skin quickly turns to something more burning and rushing, a sense of vertigo that might've sent Maven to the ground were it not for the two spirits holding onto her. Her lungs feel inflamed and she can't breathe and she wonders if this might be death instead — if all creation feels like dying. But her body knows the steps, knows what it needs to survive even when her brain can't concentrate enough to think on it, air rushing into her lungs with one shuttering breath at a time. Her eyes are squeezed shut tightly, she doesn't remember when that happened, but it's better than trying to focus on anything else. And then, just as quickly as it came on, it begins to fade, pulling a deep gasp from Maven as she sways forward, unsteady on her feet. It's only then that her eyes reopen, startled at the lack of sudden clarity of the world around her, the dark shadows in the distance that she can no longer make out — a vampire no longer.

The magic had come easily, this was their birthright, something that Nyx had called upon them to do- and it was without an enormous amount of effort that strength bled between the two oneiroi and stripped away the tainted parts of the vampire's heart, stirring it to a beat. They were as fascinated with the process as they were with Maven's reaction, watching her face as she took in a breath, reaching forward to steady her. "Welcome back," they said warmly, watching colour bloom on her features again. "The living world, I hope it is everything that you remembered it to be, little witch."

He's felt it before, but it's different to experience it all before him. The oneiroi do their fairy godmother schtick and he hears it first, the sound of Maven's heartbeat slowly pumping blood again. Maybe it was the right thing to do it at this spot. They were saying goodbye to her vampire life and while he was still worried that this meant she'd be saying goodbye to him, Jamie feels nothing but relief she gasps for air she actually needs again. She looks unsteady and he takes a tentative step forward, hesitant for just a moment, and then he's striding towards the three. "Thanks." He offers Phobetos a nod but he actually reaches out to give Grace's upper arm a gentle squeeze. They didn't have to do this, he'll find some way to pay them back one day.

But then his attention is solely on Maven and throwing caution to the wind, he rests a hand on her shoulder. "Ye alright?"

The entire world is different. Like all of her senses have been muted, things she had become so accustomed to before suddenly taken away. She can no longer hear all the sounds of the forest around her, see anything further than the outline of the trees; like someone has thrown a sack over her head. Maven can only blink for a moment, as her mind catches up to what's happened to her body. "I'm..." She struggles for words, for thoughts, for a moment, but her eyes seek out Jamie as his hand lands on her shoulder. "I think so," she nods her head lightly. Tentatively, Maven looks down at her hands. She had almost forgot what magic had felt like, to touch it as she did once before, but she can feel it there, right underneath her skin. Like a child reaching for an object of comfort, she digs for the root of her magic, the flames that always burned through her as quick as her temper, until it sparks up through her fingertips. The mere sight of it provokes a startled laugh from Maven, delighted and a little bit disbelieving. It's been so long. A smile spreads across her face as she looks back and forth between Jamie and the two oneiroi. "Thank you."

They're less interested in the aftermath, truth be told. The former vampire holds little of their attention, nothing more than a witch again, as she wished. Anemos releases Maven from their grasp, head turning to look at Jamie as his hand lands upon them. They find him to be much more preferable company between the two. "No problem," they say blithely, as if the entire thing had been no more than a trip to the local store. "You should come by some time. So many people in this city are so boring. They don't know how to have any fun," they extend the invitation. Aside from the other oneiroi, of course — but now it's only themselves and Phobetos left of their numbers, and they cannot monopolize all of the other spirit's time. "Give Pat my love."

Phobetos watched as flame sparked up from delicate fingertips- was this worth casting immortality away? There were lighters that did the same work, but they were caught up by the joy in Maven's face, the catch of delight. It was curious, and inexplicable to them, but they dipped their head in a nod, allowing Anemos to say their piece and then leave. They stepped back as well, looking between the vampire and witch, before forming a small smile of their own. "I hope that you use this new gift well." Phobetos turned to leave, knowing all too well that they'd carry this fascination beyond the few moments it took for them to fade from view: they would watch over the witch, and see if she would truly be content in a life as mundane as Hecate's children's usually were.

He almost draws her into his arms out of the relief of it all. It does feel a bit like a weight has been lifted after all of this time, regardless of whatever the hell happens between them now, she's alive, she's okay. She's alive, she's okay, and he watches her with an almost critical eye. It had gone off without a hitch and that fact, combined with the fact that Anemos was so warm towards them, has him wondering if maybe the spirits can be trusted fully after all. He nods his thanks to them, can't help but smile a bit at the mention of Patroclus, before his attention is squarely back on Maven who seems estatic.

Jamie lets out a low whistle at the sight of the sparks at her fingertips. He can be uneasy about magic later, right now he's going to revel in things looking up for her. "Let's go home, Maves. Ye can light me a few candles." The grin he gives her is easy as the hand on her shoulder lightly claps it.

[ferie-anon]

Can I get a astrology ship with Stray kids and monsta x? My signs are Aquarius sun and rising Taurus moon,Aquarius Mercury, Pisces Venus and Aries mars. Thank you so much! Please be safe and healthy!

Suree~ Let’s see your aquarius sun and taurus moon make you for someone who knows what they want and are clear about their opinions and answers. Self powered I think is the word many use to describe this. You are inventive at times or make clear of some points in topics and situations and your friends appreciate that quality of yours. Taurus moon do care about those close to them and their family, while being private. With aquarius mercury I imagine when you backup your reasoning you will use a unique standing point or execution that others might find convincing. I do think aquarius mercury could be good at satire. Your pisces venus may make you feel attracted to individuals with romantic and sweet qualities. You may be someone that sometimes dreams a bit, or harbors your sweet side that is not often seen by distant acquaintances or people at first. With your aries mars, you may be prone to get angry easily and shortly, with your airy placements your tempers may sometimes be unpredictable at times but you always seem to be far from exploding and probably settles down. Your aquarius rising prompt you to attract others through your unique style or individuality. Aquarius rising ppl have their own original style or impression that leaves other ppl to remember them or may feel drawn to them.

In straykids... your match is I.N aka Jeongin~

Jeongin is also an aquarius, with a leo moon, prompting him to be lovable and cheeky yet smart and aloof. You both are aquarius, so the similarity in personality and thinking may be prominent, and witty and fun banter can be found frequently. Your strong, cool demeanor with Jeongin’s youthful and charms balance each other well, as Jeongin respects and is in awe of your caretaking independent side, while you admire the happiness he brings to people simply from his conversations and being himself. For a first encounter, he might’ve thought you were distinctive in the crowd of people he was surrounded by, your mature and  reliable demeanor from your astute thinking and senses, gave him the thought “Woah that Noona is cool...~” You also noticed the sunshine that made everyone smile cheerfully from just looking at him or chatting with him, and you thought he was interesting while finding yourself smile unknowingly as he laughs heartily at his friend’s joke.

First, I’ll elaborate on his leo moon, Jeongin is humorous and loves fun, also is expressive and friendly. Usually when Jeongin is happy, it’s very visible and displayed clearly on his face, and he often seeks the fun and interesting things with his hyungs and members. Leo moons are hilarious in the fact that their smart usage of words or just speaking in general can create a reaction. I.N’s comical imitations and words are usually the source of laughter during a game or event with his members. Your moon is in taurus, and despite being more reserved on the end of your emotions being displayed you offer a warm and trustful aura for others that I.N also finds comfort in. You are persistent and at times Jeongin finds himself admiring you as a mentor and close one as well. You both can be the source of closure and comfort for each other on a bad day or personal day, like cheering each other up in times naturally.

His mercury is in aquarius also~ Having the same placement for mercury, you both have similar forms of communication and initiation on explaining. There will be a lot of expansive theories and thoughts you two could toss at each other or the most random thoughts that come across your minds and make a whole convo or even laugh about it.Talking chill and hanging out would be a natural for you two, and you would probably have similar interests in the topics you tell each other, since aquarius mercuries are usually not limited to one thing. You guys can get serious and deeply invested in the things you talk about, when hanging out can result in unexpected fun activities planned or decided during the time, or range to watching movies and coming up with interesting theories or logicalize things in it.

Next up, his venus is in aries~ Venus in aries natives are quite the affectionate one to their close ones and partner, in Jeongin’s case he probably craves attention and affection. He may get jealous easily, on the basis that he wants your attention ya know 🥺. Expect cuddles, hugs/back hugs, or just some form of physical contact or cling :3 from him. Your venus in pisces may feel at first a lil reserved or shy, but eventually you both have each other charmed in different ways. Your sweet and endearing nature of caring when being affectionate can be heartwarming for Jeongin. A little downside could be the differing energy between you two, for maybe you may not be as bold or clear on your needs or affection as much as Jeongin may naturally have it visible or expressive on him and his actions. But with understanding it can be eased, and your interactions and affections with each other are sweet and sincerely loving. ☂️🍬✨☀️

Lastly his mars is in scorpio, to which can be present in his work ethics, passion, and drive force. With scorpio mars, Jeongin is quite set on improving and persistent in his goals/incentive. This can be seen in gods menu here the choreography is very complex and utilizes a lot of strength and precision, and I.N’s dancing is seen to show improvement during the comeback compared to their debut stages and before. This side is also partially contributes to I.N’s aspect of becoming serious or focused when necessary for something important or that he prioritizes and you appreciate this other side of his. Additionally, your aquarius mars also yields for you to be independent and smart on your ways of achieving set goals, prioritizing own options and decisions while being unrestricted and open to new activities and predictions/possibilities. You two would make for quite the intellectual duo working on a project, activity, or when helping each other. Aquarius and scorpio are both fixed signs, and they’re both adamant about their thoughts and perspective while being loyal and perseverant. Trust is formed easily and secured, and you both appreciate each others independent individual nature that carry their own charisma and uniqueness, and inner strength.

Overall, the couple that surprises people with many of their differing traits and charm. Clever but in a well-rounded sense, like not only limited to academic or book aspects, in life and reflective ways. You both can be analytical or rational, but also naturally compassionate and contemplative. When together, deep lessons and philosophy can naturally be mused out during a random conversation one starry night, and then the next day there may be a pillow fight or infectious laughter that fills the atmosphere. An unpredictable sense of manner within you two, giving way for a new adventure or new types of feelings each time. Vibes -> 🌎🌙☀️🍧���💖✨😚⚡️🦊✨✌🏻

Next up.... for Monsta X, your match is I.M or his real name Chang-kyun~

Here is I.M, an aquarius as well! But it’s not just because his sun is also in aquarius as the similarities shared between his placements and yours complement for good synergy and balance. He has a moon aries that prompts for a passionate mindset and healthy competitive attitude, but overall is also a softie and a thoughtful person found in the way he expresses his thoughts and feelings about people and music. Despite some differences with your taurus moon, as you may be a lil less active constantly or more on the ‘going the extra mile if it’s necessary when you want to’ comfort zone, you both are subtley (in action and notion of manner) compassionate and considerate regarding close or cherished friends and acquaintances, partner, etc. No doubt at first meeting, there was a spark or glance encapsulated into a trance, as a longing of curiosity appear naturally within you two.

First off, lets elaborate on his aries moon. Changkyun is a very creative individual who seeks the fun and has a playful/friendly demeanor to others. His self-written raps and musicality can be evidential of his expanding creativity and artistic motives. Aries moon can be childish (in a positive term) in their actions at times, but can be deep and think a lot of their own opinions and mindset (doing reflecting). and get along with others or display care and thoughtfulness of empathizing. With your taurus moon, when together there may be a nurturing warm bond felt between you two and trust is given mutually. Your moon placement shows your clarity innerly, a resilience of knowing when and what you choose or want. Similarly, Changkyun’s aries moon is honest and clear about their resolves/goals, so both of you guys get along well mentally and may get into bickerings that don’t last long due to mutual compromise eventually. I think Taurus moon can sometimes be parental like nagging or looking after close ones and etc, and with Changkyun, you both feel open about personal or unsaid thoughts/emotions. You provide I.M as being the calm soothing supportive pillar, and with I.M’s warm and cheerful nature you find yourself leaning on him in times of personal and hard events happening. I.M will be there to give you a deep long hug or soothing pats on the back, as he listens to your day and problem while giving small nods and words of advice or thoughts.

His mercury is in capricorn, and his form of communication can involve pragmatism and a calm grounded way. Most of the time, aside from monsta x being chaotic, I.M can be seen mature for a maknae/youngest of the group. His opinions, ideals, and thinking is spoken in a self-certain way but calmly mannered way. Your mercury is in aquarius, similarly both these signs don’t waver their opinions usually for others, their opinions and perspectives are built and contructed through the analytical and multiple process of breaking down things to come to a conclusion of what they believe and agree in within their mind. You could say these two are individual thinkers, sometimes resulting in those “genius moments” or aha moment, but exclude the overexaggeration it comes with and there you go. You two would enjoy disecting and learning of each others thoughts, opinions and etc, you both would respect and listen to each others different approaches of views, but you both might butt heads when having certain different concepts sometimes. For a scenario, you guys could be working in a lab for class one time and the air is filled with focused, primitive silence around you both, as you each simultaneously carry inspection while working together with an intellectual peace when communicating. Ofc potentially, you guys will definitely get into “cute, sarcastic banter”. ✨

His venus is also in pisces! Having the same venus placement, you both have similar initiation and take on affection and romance. Aw, this is cute you two might be a bit mellow at first with physical affection or contact but once comfortable it’s like you two are like puppies cuddling, fuzzy and soft. You both provide the affection and things each desire, sincerity and attentiveness. I think dates would be sorta planned or done where some romantic things done on cue like hand holding, sitting in a cafe or having dinner in a romantic setting. Both of you guys can be selfless for friends and loved one, putting their needs into consideration as priority first sometimes. For a scenario, it might include Changkyun blushing when you back-hug him after meeting up together personally and you notice his pink-tinted cheeks from the reaction, your face: ☺️

His mars is also in aquarius! Having the same placement here allows for similar thinking and easier understanding of how each other acts on their motives and priorities. Work ethic/similar thoughts on initiation shows the unity you guys can be in when working together or responding towards each other. Mars in aquarius, you both value your personal space/freedom and being independent on your occassions, so you both would give each other space out of understanding and this allows for a healthy growth in the relationship that will only pull you two closer. Working together, there is mutual agreement and communication that makes you two have good chemistry here as well.

(Ps. Ran out of room for gifs ;-; even tho I wanted to put a gif to end it)

Overall, it’s like having both coffee and cafe latte, you both are cute and have a fuzzy heart, and yet can be the most intellectual/skilled boss of yourself in your serious mode and field of work. Logicality and hidden sass with vulnerability/soft on the inside hidden, you two are quite the duality couple or having dual charms :3 Your vibes together -> ⛅️⭐️🌗✨🍪🍿🌱💖✨🍎 ❤️

[writingsoftheunderworld]

AU - yes! Time Travel -no?

C. 2 here ; C. 1 here; AO3 here. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bonnie Bennett had begun her day with a slow calming chant of Don’t let him get to you, her thought firmly centred around one Damon Salvatore, a true thorn in her side since he’d first arrived in town not too long ago. She’d woken up slowly, light filtering through her blinds and shrouding the whole room in a husky shade of caramel, the lingering scent of citrus from the candles burnt the night before giving the room an all to homely feeling. She could hear her dad bustling downstairs, most likely getting some coffee for the road. It was fairly early still, but she had free-period the first half of the day and she was skipping the rest - life ending crises a good enough reason even if Mrs Jason still claimed that unless you were actually dead you had to show up for math class. She laid in bed a few more minutes, listening to her dad get dressed and slip out the door. She wondered for not the first time whether it would be better off if she tried to tell him all about this witch vampire mess again, but Grams had wanted him out of it, and he had wanted out of it after her mom left, so for the thousandth time she put it out of her mind. 

She showered, changed and climbed down to get the little mug of coffee her dad always left out for her, dropping more sugar into it than a candy store had on its selves. Elena had once joked that if she didn’t end up making it big she would always work as an oompa-loompa for Willy Wonka for how much sugar she dumped into her coffee each day. Bonnie was still not sure if Elena thought that was just a good joke or if she just hadn’t understood the Chocolate Factory as a child. Caroline just liked to pat her on the shoulder with a wistful look on her face, like she wished she had Bonnie’s devil-may-care attitude about it - which ironically seemed to have not been the case even now as a vampire who ate more than a Quarterback. 

The noise of Jeremy knocking on the door startled her out of her thoughts enough to almost spill the coffee on her shirt. Almost being the key word thankfully, so she dropped the mug into the sink and swung her bag over her head and headed for the garage. They were meant to meet Damon on the edge of the former Salvatore Estate, just off of the main road, by the woods, from where he’d then show her where the former Salem witches had been burned some centuries ago and where the Founders had burned Emily as well. Klaus was a threat hanging over their head constantly at this point. 

On their way Jeremy began telling her about Isobel’s impromptu visit earlier this morning and how poor Aunt Jenna had locked herself in her room following it. Bonnie felt sorry for the woman, she definitely didn’t deserve to be lied to like that, but Bonnie also felt that telling her the whole truth would’ve been equally unfair. The least Alaric could’ve done was say that his wife was missing rather than dead, but that was none of her business at the end of the day. They talked some more as they waited, they’d arrived a bit early after all, and Bonnie realised once again just how different Jeremy now was, and how nice it was to see him so invested in her. She wasn’t sure yet if she actually liked him like that, but she definitely could imagine how sweet and thoughtful he’d be as a boyfriend. And she needed someone frankly. Seeing Elena with her two Salvatore’s bending over backwards to rescue her from any and every inconvenience and now Caroline complaining about having been kissed by both Matt and Tyler made her frustrated. Less so for the fighting over her situation, that sounded exhausting, but rather for the constant work she had to put into herself to even be noticed. Maybe she should move for college, she had a feeling Virginia might be part of the problem here as well, though she did find it hilarious how both Matt and Tyler had initially dated her before either moved on to Elena or Caroline. Then it just made her sad. Was it something about her that pushed them away?

She remembered with sudden clarity asking that to her Grams and the hour long lecture following her words, of how she was a strong woman, how boys wouldn’t be able to handle someone like her until later, how she should still enjoy herself and not be tied down to a boyfriend from middle school onward because then you saw what could happen - exhibit a through z Elena’s many rants about Matt. She’d listened but not believed her Grams. She still wasn’t sure if she believed her Grams but she did know she wanted someone for her own now, hell, she needed someone with all the stress and violence her life had suddenly turned to. And Jeremy was safe, and cute, and had puppy dog eyes for her and vived for her attention. Was part of her thinking she was settling? Maybe. Did she care? Not really. And speaking of not caring, where the hell was Damon at? He was already late by 15 minutes. Don’t let him get to you. Her inner voice chimed again.

“Jere, how about we just head to the Boarding House? Clearly someone is looking to be set on fire.” Jeremy laughed and nodded. He clearly thought Bonnie was joking, but oh boy couldn’t he be more wrong. Bonnie was 1000% setting Damon on fire if he didn’t come up with a good enough excuse. 

_._._._._._._

Rose waited and watched. Jeremy Gilbert was off to the side, looking completely eager and completely in over his head as Bonnie and Damon were arguing about the best course of action following her short introduction into what she knew. And if they thought that was all she could tell them, then obviously they were still underestimating her which frankly was a bit condescending seeing as she was at least 2 years older than the Bonnie currently glaring at Damon. But she’d guessed that would be the reaction she was going to get when she made her choice to be as dramatic as possible. Mom used to say she got it from dad, but seeing the two younger versions of them interacting now she could safely say she got it from both. God knows those eye rolls and ridiculous insults were exaggerated as hell. How did these two people become her slow dancing in the kitchen on a random Thursday evening parents?

“Excuse me?” she tried, weakly, but still she gave it a shot. Jeremy looked over to her then at the still arguing duo then back at her with a look that seemed to say this is just an ordinary Monday for them. “EX-cuse ME!” she tried again, this time much louder but nothing. She sighed. Lost cause.

“If you would’ve let me pick you up like I said initially, you wouldn’t be here wanting to blow my head up now Judgy!”

“If you’d know how to use a phone like a normal person, I wouldn’t have waited needlessly for you for hours Damon!”

“Oh please, it was barely 5 minutes.” he scoffed and Jeremy piped up with a it was fifteen technically that Damon just elected to ignore it seemed. Sometime he did remind Rose of her dad. 

“It doesn’t matter! We’re dealing with Klaus! A 5 seconds text shouldn’t be something I need to tell you to do!” Aaannd sometimes she reminded Rose of her mom. Great, now she had anxiety again. And lord knows her mom won’t just raise her voice to yell at her for ending up here like this Bonnie was doing, no no, her mom would have a level voice that somehow would hurt far more. She needed a distraction. She also needed to figure out what was about to happen around this time. Like she remember her dad mentioning that Alaric had gotten possessed at some point and that he and mom had danced at a school 60s event - which she had to ask who actually came up with that stuff, because while Lizzie definitely loved a nice theme party, she still went with like a hava night, or a rock theme or an Austrian ball or something more generic but more fun, not a decades dance. Digressing though, Rose knew these facts, but she didn’t know anything immediate. She needed more information. More inside information.

“Guys, could you take a break and answer a few questions for me first?” she tried one more time. To no avail. So hard times ask for hard measures or something like that and stubborn younger versions of her parents call for her parents usual solve to stubborn daughter fighting with her friends voice so she did her best to channel her mom’s level tone and her dad’s intimidating presence and for someone not actually related to them she though she did a good job seeing as Bonnie and Damon turned in unison to glare at her before being reminded of where they were and what was going on here. She was actually pretty proud of herself for that feat.

“So as I was trying to say, can you give me run-down of what’s been happening here?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who knew everything?” Damon commented snidely and Rose almost high-fived Bonnie when both her and Rose said in unison.

“Oh, you know what sorry means?” Bonnie off to the side.

“Oh, so you agree I was right?” Rose with a grin.

Damon  seemed to take a moment to grit his teeth and bite back his words before shaking his head, giving a smirk and walking right past Rose to pour himself a glass of bourbon and spread out onto the couch in seeming nonchalance. Rose would almost commend his acting here, if he didn’t also irritate her with it. Who knew dad used to be such a child… well, more so than in her universe...time?

“Damon, she didn’t say she knows everything and don’t be a dick. She’s the only one willing to help us here.” Bonnie on the other hand, Rose was beginning to appreciate more and more. Maybe she was more Mom’s pet in the past than Dad’s pet as she was used to.

“Thank you, Bonnie. And no, I don’t know everything I just know a lot, but I still need to have the full picture and all the players to tell which is the best plan of attack here. As I said, you can’t kill Klaus, but you also don’t want him to become a hybrid right? That means we need to take every variable in consideration.” she argued and saw both Bonnie and Damon share a look before seemingly agreeing with her point of view. And boy was the Klaus of her universe going to laugh himself stupid when/if she made it back and told him his lessons in planning schemes - her dad’s turn of phrase not hers of Klaus’ - had been what had helped her most here. Oh irony, you cruel, opportunistic bitch. 

“Bonnie was meant to take on over 100 dead witches’ energy today, it’s why we were waiting for Damon, he knew where they’d died.” came the first important nugget of information from the most - or least? - expected person, Jeremy Gilbert himself. Rose smiled at him in gratitude, glad at least one person was listening. 

“Ok, that’s still going to be useful so maybe you should do that anyway and meanwhile I’ll see what Katherine's hiding?” Rose suggested and she didn’t even need to think before knowing that Damon was going to disagree with her - her dad still made that face whenever she and her friends planned something he thought was too dangerous or risky. Bonnie however seemed more receptive. 

“No way! Do you even know what that bitch is capable of?” as she said, predictable.

“Damon, I think she might be right. You know Katherine is planning something, no way is she helping from the goodness of her heart and she won’t say anything to any of us.” Ah, how she loved her mom’s pragmatism at times - except when she was 14 and wanted a pony, then she much rather preferred her dad’s personal brand of impulsiveness that not only got her the pony she’s wanted since 5 but also made a stable off a little way further from the house.

“And she is still keeping Katherine knocked out.” Jeremy was quickly becoming Rose’s favourite person, no joke. He was full of wonderful insight and 100% helping her barely formed ideas come to fruition. She smiled proudly and nodded to the still unconscious vampire on the floor. She elected to ignore outright looking at the woman for now, too weirded out by the 1 to 1 replica of Elena to feel comfortable with it. Doppelgangers were too much for her. It was like evil clones, her dad had explained when he tried to make her understand how the whole doppelganger thing even worked - something about the universe or some chick named Tessa or another, she hadn’t been paying too close attention by that point. Their lives were very convoluted in her opinion. 

Damon seemed to consider this possibility then, taking another large sip of bourbon and looking directly at Rose as he did so, before slamming the glass onto the end table by the foot of the couch and jumping to his feet. 

“Alright, fine, then Bon-Bon, you me and little Gilbert need to head off. Rosie-Posie, you get the Queen of Hell. Good luck to you, you’re going to need it. The bitch hasn’t told the truth a day in her life.” 

Rose nodded, smiled and waved them off as they all got out and left to do what they’d planned to do. She couldn’t wait for that honestly, it would at least get Bonnie’s magic up closer to the levels Rose knew from her mom. But the Rosie-Posie was going to kill her the longer she stayed here. It was going to make her slip and call Damon dad and it would all implode into itself, because if she was weak to one thing, it was being her dad’s Rosie-Posie and while she was fully aware this wasn’t actually her dad, her heart didn’t care. All was left now was for her mom to brush her hair out of her eyes and she might just snap. She’d missed her parents far before she got herself stranded in a different universe - despite it having been barely a few hours - since she hadn’t been home in at least 2 months. Sure she’d seen them nearly every night, more mom than dad since dad tried to pretend he still was immune to missing his girls, but it wasn’t the same as hearing her dad from a few feet away, well within hug reach or feel her mom’s warm hand through her hair. Fuck, and now she was crying. This day couldn’t be going worse. Her eyes strayed to Katherine and she groaned. Oh, it could definitely get worse. It could get so much worse.

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 26

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Previous Chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, Fantasy AU You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 9.842

Warnings: abusive relationships, anxiety, low self esteem, fear of sexual assault, described injuries, bathing, mentioned striptease dancing

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness. Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Late again. No one is surprised. However, I will have more time to write soon and will be starting on the next chapter as soon as I know what exactly I want to write about. Suggestions are very welcome! Thanks again to my amazing beta readers who corrected SO MUCH in record time! @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 and @hanramz-the-fander <3

Chapter 26

He couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

He was bundled up securely, his hand and arm hastily cleaned and wrapped by a paramedic that had mercifully patched him up as briefly as possible. He was in a place where he’d never been hurt before – Logan’s apartment – and still the shaking would not stop. He couldn’t focus on anything else. It seemed to seep into his very core, rattling everything loose – his lungs, his heart, his very emotions.

The rattling made him restless. Despite how heavy his limbs felt, some old, animal instinct told him to get up, to move, to find a spot that was dark and tiny which he could crawl into and not be found. He was far too exposed.

Agony shot up his leg as he tried to stand before he’d consciously come to the decision, startling a soundless cry of pain from him. His ankle throbbed with heated, angry sensations, twisted as he’d fallen when Trevor had hit him. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to manage to put any weight on it, despite having walked off so many injuries. It was the shaking – he was so weak, cold and unsteady, he wanted to pull himself together so badly, he had to, but everything seemed so hazy whenever he moved, nausea and dizziness threatening to overwhelm him whenever he tried to get up, to not be in the way and be noticed and draw more anger towards himself. This was bad, being vulnerable was bad. It invited worse things every time. Every sound made his heart thunder anxiously, he just wanted to hide and not be seen, he felt so ugly. So unsafe.

Patton flinched so hard he felt it in every bruise on his slender body. The knock had been very soft, just a gentle warning against the not quite closed door, but it felt loud. Tears of shame and terror made his vision swim as he was confronted with how gentle he was being treated after causing so much destruction.

“Yes?”

He could only speak the word quietly, annoying and feeble, he’d never be heard this way and everyone would have to wait for him to repeat himself again-

The door creaked open softly. He’d been listened to.

Logan stood on the other side, much more composed than before, and blessedly alone, respecting Patton’s wish for privacy. He could not be seen by anyone else this way, the humiliation of having been so very wrong would break him. Patton felt like he was about to fall apart as it was. Like a fragile little thing with shattered, bird-like bones. Yet his quick gaze took in the man before him on instinct, noting the hunched shoulders, the sock clad feet, the lack of a belt and service weapon, the fact that he’d dressed down to his pristine white shirt to soften his image. There had been blood on his vest and jacket, he recalled shamefully.

“May I come in, Patton?”

His voice was very gentle, almost calm enough to hide the tremor in his voice. Poor Logan, he was distressed!

“O-of course. I mean -you don’t need to ask, this is your room! Please don’t be- I shouldn’t- I really don’t want to- to take up too much space and cause a fuss, you don’t need to worry about m-me or feel sad, I don’t want to- I don’t want to cause t-trouble-”

“It is alright, Patton.” Logan interrupted his increasingly frantic, breathless mumbling soothingly. “You are not imposing. I could not begin to express how relieved I am to know you are here now. I would not want you anywhere else.”

Tears threatened to blind Patton upon hearing the sincere reassurance. Logan – considerate, gentle, wonderful Logan – had tried his hardest to hide how shaken and hurt he was, but he’d never been good at keeping things from the young man. Still he was a steadying presence in the room, large and quiet. Slowly, so as not to startle his guest, he offered the tea he’d left to fetch for Patton to take.

The mug had cooled a little, he noticed, so not to burn his skin. I was a wasted effort, considering how badly his hands were shaking. With his injured hand wrapped and of little use, Patton managed to spill a bit of the hot tea over his bandage immediately.

Logan reached out quickly to steady him.

The flinch caught both of them by surprise. Patton whimpered, flooded with sudden terror. The mug slipped from his numb hand and was barely caught by Logan who must be furious – the white carpet under the bed – he’d – Patton pulled his hands to his chest and curled into himself, silent as a mouse, feeling every single one of his injuries as if he were just receiving them, feeling tiny and terrified. He sensed Logan freeze over him, a wall of muscle boxing him in. Squeezing his eyes shut, the patissier waited for his hair to be grabbed, for the screaming to start.

The clink of china being set down was loud in the utterly still room. Then heard nothing but his own shallow breathing and the rushing of blood in his ears. Though he tried so hard to anticipate what would be done to him, the dizziness and the burning pain of his cuts made it hard to focus. His head felt strange and hazy and he felt exposed.

“Patton?”

Surprise made the smaller man pause. Logan sounded much farther away than he’d expected. Blinking burning eyes open, he found him backed away against the door, wringing his hands anxiously. The mug sat next to his feet innocently. He did not look angry.

“I am sorry for startling you.” He uttered very softly. He hadn’t expected a man so large speak so quietly. “Please, is there anything I can do? Would you like me to leave, or ask Virgil to...”

Patton shook his head. He didn’t want to be alone, yet he was afraid to be approached, to anger someone with his mistakes. He didn’t know what he wanted. To feel nothing, perhaps. To not have broken things so badly in the first place. He wished he hadn’t done all the terrible, dumb things that had caused them all to be here, hurting and sad and burdened because of him. He’d only wanted to love Trevor, to have a family, but all he’d done was cause him pain. He’d trapped him and betrayed him and he’d left him, unconscious, and who knew what Logan would do with him now?

A small sound of defeat escaped the younger man. He couldn’t help him anymore. Logan had seen him hit Patton and he’d be so angry, he’d put him in prison. Oh my gosh, Trevor wouldn’t survive there, he didn’t even know where he was right now, with no one to comfort him after Patton had just… broken him. The memory of his tear stained, twisted, angry expression made cold fear stiffen the baker’s limbs, yet the guilt weighed much more heavily on him. He only noticed that his shaking had turned into painful, rattling sobs when he realized Logan was rambling at him.

“...please, just- let me know how I may help you! I cannot imagine what you are going through right now but I promise we will fix this, somehow. You’ll have whatever you need. Please, Patton, please believe me.”

He looked terribly lost on the other side of the room, unable to touch Patton and therefore barely knowing how to make things better. His pleading cut the gentle man like a knife between ribs that were aching and bruised. He wanted Logan to be alright, he wanted to feel safe in his arms, yet he felt frightened of what he would do to Trevor. He realized with sharp clarity that he had no idea what this protective man might be capable of - the thought scared him. He knew he had no right to ask anything of him and might just make things worse with his insolence – he had every reason to be furious at Patton’s impertinence, yet the irrational plea burst from his lips without his consent.

“Please don’t hurt Trevor!”

Logan stilled. A terrible look washed over his face. It was worse than anger. He looked baffled, hurt, defeated.

He neither raised his voice nor his hand against Patton.

A long moment passed.

“I will not take any measures without your consent.” The promise sounded like he had to rip it from his own, bloody chest. Hearing his voice was like a stab to Patton’s heart. He hated himself for this.

“I’m so sorry.”

The words broke out of Patton like a sob of a frightened child.

None of this would have happened if he had listened to all the people who’d told him – over and over again – to leave, to stop trying, that their relationship was bad. Logan had told him. This very day, he’d looked at this brilliant, well meaning man and had told him he knew better than him. Humiliation made his face burn.

“Logan, I’m so sorry- you t-told me it wouldn’t work. I’m so stupid, you must think I’m the most foolish person and now you’re feeling bad because of me and s-surely- surely Virgil is really distressed and- and I shouldn’t ask you to- I hurt you and I know you shouldn’t- but- but it’s all my fault, he d-didn’t- he can’t help it- please-”

“Patton, please stop.” The detective pleaded. Panic welled in him upon seeing this precious creature’s suffering. He wanted to grab him and press all of his shattered pieces close, yet he hardly dared to touch him. Patton had never looked smaller or more fragile. His lovely face was discolored with bruises, pink and reds bleeding together around his cut lip and swollen cheek. Even his hair was still mattered with blood where it had been pulled too harshly. The brutal sobs shaking him had made his face redden and shine with tears. Logan’s hands felt too big and rough to touch him. He hardly knew what he was doing in ordinary situations, how was one supposed to fix suffering this unimaginable? How would Patton ever recover from this?

“I’m sorry.” The patissier mumbled. Ever attentive, he’d spotted his protector’s helplessness. His chest felt heavy with grief so great it was crushing him. He’d hurt Trevor so terribly, and now Logan was in pain because of him. All he had ever wanted was to help the people he loved so much sometimes he felt like he couldn’t breath from it, like there was not enough space to fit both his lungs and his emotions in his narrow chest.  His face burned as he recalled Trevor’s twisted, reddened face, caused by his failure to love him.

“I’m so ashamed.” He admitted in a small voice, feeling the words break in his throat.

A wounded sound escaped the taller man. He felt his expression melt out of his control – a picture of pain and weakness when he needed to be strong the most. Oh so carefully settling on the bed next to the patissier, giving him time to pull away, the detective cupped his delicate, discolored face in his large hands with utter gentleness. His voice was rough as he spoke, as if the very truth of his words rose from the burning behind his ribcage and scalded his throat with how much he needed Patton to believe them.

“Patton, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Something terrible was done to you by someone who was supposed to love and protect you. Who failed to protect you - like I did. We, the men in your life, are supposed to feel ashamed for failing to live up to the way you accept and care for all of us. Everything you are responsible for is your honest attempt to heal us from wounds inflicted to each other and shield us from ourselves, because we are not like you. You are a man who will love even when everything is lost. It is your primary response to the world and – it will not always work. Sometimes, love is not enough, but that is not your fault. In a world as good as you deserve, it would be.”

Feeling his vision blur, Logan rubbed at his eyes with a shaking hand, unable to see Patton through his tears and frustration. His words kept spilling from him with little more control than he had over the salty droplets falling between them.

“How can I make you understand – Patton - when I look at you I feel – hope. You are too good, too gentle for this world. But that does not mean we get to hurt you or that you need to change. It means we need to reach for your example. Your pain and ours is not your fault but the effect of our failure.”

He gave up on drying his tears.

“Patton, you are not to blame because you gave him your everything. No matter how broken and undeserving a man is, you take him with his flaws, without judgment, and give everything you are, hoping to heal what the world broke not because there is any hope left, but because you refuse to leave anyone behind. The strength it must take to uphold this fight, this life – it humbles me. Patton, you leave me awed whenever I look at you. Even bruised and hurt by a relationship that failed, you didn’t because you are stronger than anyone I have ever met. You were cut and beaten by the world and responded with kindness. I don’t understand it, because I am not – I am not like you, but I admire you for it. I know you are in pain now and that you must feel like you will never recover from this, but even though I have little of your power, I will- I would like to...”

Patton was in his arms.

He felt where the blood had tangled his fair locks together where the smaller man pressed his head under his chin, felt his trembling in the strong arms he wrapped around the slender body. Patton’s breath was ragged where he pressed himself against him, as if he could hardly be close enough. As if the embrace of his man, who saw him not as ugly and broken but as strong and beautiful, could take him to a place where nothing could hurt him. He closed his eyes and held on.

Soft sounds reached them from beyond the walls of the bedroom. Roman’s voice was so deep and honey-rich, Patton imagined he felt it seep into the warm wood of the floors and walls and reach him through the very air around him. Virgil was there with him, responding to a soft warbling with the pitch he’d reserved for the neurotic raccoon stress-gnawing on objects. The sounds were faint, almost drowned out by the steady heartbeat under his ear. He pressed closer, letting the melody of the flat around him flow into the awning hole ripped into his chest by unforgiving hands, sharp words and terrible, suffocating guilt.

“You’re trembling.” Logan remarked softly. His hands were large and warm on his back, yet the coldness in his limbs would not quite go away. His fingers felt icy where he’d twisted them in the pure white of the detective’s shirt.

“I-It’s okay. Just cold.” Patton mumbled.

He was no stranger to this feeling. When things were especially bad and his hands shook too much to dress his wounds for long hours, sometimes this coldness settled into his bones that no desperate amount of blankets he’d wrap himself in could chase away. It happened when his shame and exhaustion were so great they threatened to grind him away to nothing but dust carried away by the breeze. There was no heat left in his brittle form. No will left to keep it warm and alive. In those long nights when Trevor took his frustration and pain out on him and then slammed the door behind him, Patton was pathetically wishing for a warm body to hold him, for Trevor to come back and forgive him, for anyone to wrap him in their embrace so he would not have to feel so alone.

Logan pressed him closer with a gentleness at odds with how firmly he brought them together, as if he could not bear any space between them. Patton’s bruises hurt, but he tried to curl in tighter, smaller, make himself tiny enough to disappear, so he didn’t have to be so cold. His breath caught as he realized he wasn’t alone with the chill this time.

“Would, um-”

The patissier quieted his ragged breathing, noting his protector’s unsureness.

“Would you like me to- to draw a bath? I know you are feeling…”

Hurt, broken, ashamed, needy to be held and hidden from the world-

Patton swallowed the bitter, clingy words with difficulty.

“...unsteady. It is only an offer and I will not- I would not want to push you into anything, but I cannot help noting how cold you are. The shock is likely affecting your system, and I have learned that it helps some – survivors – to feel more safe and clean when they – when-”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” Patton responded quietly. They had no bathtub in their flat, and often standing had been too difficult or the spray of hot water too painful on his body. He felt so drained and tired of hurting and trembling that he wanted to try. Even if the idea of peeling off his bloodied clothes, his last line of defense he’d gotten to keep today, make him anxious.

Logan was as gentle with him as he’d been the whole day. He helped him up with careful hands and pulled him close steadily when he noticed the wince of pain caused by his sprained ankle.

“May I carry you?”

His voice was deep and soothing. Patton closed his eyes and focused on nothing else.

Being picked up by the detective was nothing like being grabbed by Trevor. He was out of control when he was tentatively lifted off his feet, but he knew he would not be dropped or restrained. Not wanting to be seen, he buried his face in the man’s neck as he crossed the corridor, breathing in nothing but his scent. Sounds – Roman’s concerned rumbling, Virgil’s softly treading feet and an excited mewling, reached him from the kitchen, a respectful distance away.

The bathroom smelled nice.

It was the first thing he noticed upon being enclosed in the warm, tiled room and dared to turn his head. Roman had clearly widened his territory and left his many, sweet scented products covering the various surfaces. There was more furniture than last time he’d been here, he noticed. A small table with a dark, wooden chair had been placed close to the window. Various boxes and brushes and other beauty products were scattered around a mirror almost obscured by the spotted orchid spilling its flowers over the table as it grew at an odd angle. The detective had clearly tried to wrangle it under control with sticks and string, but had made little progress so far. Slowly, Logan lowered him onto the cushioned chair.

Quickly starting to fill the tub, he kept his voice very gentle.

“I will be just outside in case you need anything at all. If, um, if you like, I can help you with- with your clothes, only as much as you want me to, of course! And you may of course feel free to wrap yourself in a bathrobe or towel to bathe, if the additional cover provides you with added comfort.”

He was blushing, Patton noticed. Though anxious about the situation, the taller man’s insecurity put him at ease. Logan was far too concerned about his comfort to try to take advantage of him, the rational part of his mind told him. Yet he could not bring his heart to stop racing.

Tentative hands on his own made him realize how firmly he’d been clutching his bloodied shirt. His cut hand was throbbing awfully.

“You do not have to do this, Patton. I can simply carry you back to bed and tuck you in with some warmed pillows. Or I can ask Roman or Virgil to assist you, if their presence might make you more comfortable. I would absolutely understand you not wanting to be so… vulnerable in front of me.”

“No! I can’t- Virgil can’t see me like this.”

He couldn’t bear to be so ugly, so disappointing in front of someone so strong and hurt as Virgil. He’d wanted to support him and make him feel safe, not burden him by breaking apart when he was needed. He had been supposed to be the one to take care of the former gang member. He’d been supposed to be strong and reliable and now he was failing at both.

Roman was out of the question as well. The man was so gentle and sweet, he’d never expose him to something like this. Seeing him suffer by being confronted by someone as sad and broken and sick as Patton – he didn’t want that for him.

It was true that his feelings about Logan were conflicted sometimes. He was still shaken by what the man had done to Trevor, but despite the shame and frisson of fear shooting through him at every sudden move, he trusted Logan not to injure him. Moreover, he wanted him here. Logan was tough and intimidating, overly protective and dangerous, and he was safety. He was patient and gentle and kinder than anyone had ever been to him and his hands and words were steadying and encouraging him every day since they’d met. His voice captured all of Patton’s frightened, jumbled thoughts and brought them here, into the present where Logan was taking care of him and so willing to... it felt like loving him.

Patton’s thundering heartbeat slowed.

“I can undress myself, but… would- would you help me get into the tub?” He asked softly. Something calmed in Patton’s chest as he saw Logan nod vigorously, so willing to serve and protect.

“Of course! I will wait outside. The towels and bathrobe are right here, just call and I will, um… Yes, I will be right outside.” He rambled, backing away as he spoke, clearly awkward. The patissier felt more of his fear drain away, replaced by soft feelings for the man almost stumbling over his feet in his haste to give him privacy.

Undressing was as painful as he’d expected. Bending forward to take off his socks made him terribly dizzy. For a moment, he had to steady himself at the tub next to him as black spots from pain and nausea made his vision swim. Sweat dampened his clothes from the effort as he moved. He knew he was taking a lot of time to peel out of his shirt and pants and was worried about making Logan impatient, he was really trying to be quick, but there was little he could do to speed up the process with his bruised abdomen and bandaged hand and arm. The torn skin on his forearm throbbed painfully as he pulled his shirt over his head. Trevor had shattered a glass so close to him against the wall that the splinters had cut him.

He was quivering like a leaf and feeling weak and helpless once he was finally wrapped in a large robe. Even breathing seemed like too much of an effort for a few long minutes. He was so tired. By the time his icy hands had managed to tie the robe around his small waist, the tub had filled. He felt barely conscious.

Logan stepped into the room quietly upon being called, as if he were afraid any sound would make Patton shatter. There was no hiding the distress on his face upon seeing the state the patissier was in.  His face was pasty white under the discolorations and the robe had slipped down and exposed one thin, harshly bruised shoulder, adding to the gruesome picture of his beaten face. The younger man turned away with shame, fumbling with the fabric with numb fingers. Carefully, the detective grasped the material and pulled it closed.

“It is alright, Patton. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” He promised earnestly. In contrast to the image he knew he presented, Patton was painfully aware of how handsome the other was though. His clear cut features, his dark, clear eyes and long, graceful limbs clad in expensive fabric. He felt small and dirty in comparison. The patissier knew exactly how he looked. He’s seen it in the mirror often enough, late at night or early in the morning, trying to cover up bruises in the cold light of their bathroom.

Trevor was ashamed of hurting him. Every time. Sometimes, that shame made his words about his looks sharp and hurtful. It did not mean they weren’t true though.

Yet, Logan did not look repulsed as they gazed at each other. His expression was very soft.

“May I lift you now?”

Yes, being in the warm water and not having to sit upright anymore sounded like a great idea. And it was. Compared to his chilled hands the temperature felt too hot, yet he knew Logan had made sure not to scald him. His bruises burned uncomfortably in the heat, but the pain would pass. Despite the initial discomfort, after only a few seconds, Patton felt his tense muscles loosening. Laying his head down was a blessing – Logan had even hastily laid a towel at the edge of the tub so he could rest his head against it. The young man tiredly watched him kneel next to the tub fold a second towel over its edge to place his bandaged arm and hand on top of the fabric comfortably. He was having a hard time taking in so much consideration.

Despite the heat, his body was still shivering from a coldness deeper than the skin. In comparison, his bandaged hand felt even colder. Logan appeared to notice and tentatively curled his own, warm hands around his smaller limb. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on the pale skin, distracting him from the pain.

“Would you like me to leave you alone? What can I do?”

A husky laugh escaped Patton that had nothing joyful about it. He still wanted to do more? After saving him and carrying him around like a useless child? He’d already done so much while Patton was doing nothing but selfishly take more, need more from him. He pulled his knees close to his body, feeling small and naked and awkward even with the robe wrapped around his bruised body. When they’d met at least he’d felt he could offer a nice place to stay to the detectives and feed them, take care of them. He’d wanted to take care of them. But the longer they’d known each other, the worse Trevor’s paranoia had grown and the needier Patton had been.

He really only wanted to love and heal everyone he cared about so deeply, but he’d made his own boyfriend distrustful and sad and violent and now he leeched off Logan’s kindness and still failed to respect what he’d given him. His eyes started to burn where they were fixed on the bandage. The perfectly white fabric was stained with the tea he’d spilled and it suddenly felt terrible.

He felt guilty and afraid and he knew he should have taken better care of it and he would not cry anymore. He’d been messy and annoying enough. Biting his lip hard, he tried to pull himself together, almost managing a smile after a moment.

“It’s fine. I’m perfectly fine, thank you so much, Logan. You’ve done so much.” He promised lightly. His hand had grown stiff in the detective’s hold as if trying to avoid drawing attention to the ruined fabric and the possible consequences. Concerned and insecure, the taller man looked down to where Patton’s cold fingers had tensed, fearing he was overstepping.

“I apologize if my contact made you uncomfortable.” He muttered, drawing back his hand. “I should have asked before initiating it. Would it be alright if I changed your bandage? I promise to be quick so not to cause you any further distress.”

Oh.

Patton’s breath caught quickly at the mention of the bandage, fearfully hunching his shoulders. He did not know what he expected, but no more accusations or anger emerged from the concerned detective.

“I’m sorry I ruined it.” The patissier mumbled, fighting the instinct to draw his hand closer to his chest. He shivered despite the warm water lapping at his collar bones like a liquid blanket.

Blinking in surprise, Logan hastened to reassure him. “It is of no consequence. Whenever Roman injures himself, his bandages need changing several times a day when he suffers accidents with his makeup or nail-polish. He irrationally appears to fear his appearance might suffer due to any injury and attempts to make up for it with especially colorful cosmetics. I will take care of it right now, if you do not mind.”

Patton waited for the other shoe to drop, but Logan simply gazed at him patiently. After a long moment, the tense limbs uncurled slowly.

“Oh- alright. I can do it myself, though. You really don’t have to. You must be really uncomfortable sitting on the floor like that and I already took up so much of your time.”

“I would like to do it.”

And that was that. Logan dug out the first-aid kit and unwrapped the cut hand with the utmost gentleness. One layer after the other came off and still nothing but the sound of lapping water and quiet breathing filled the room. More than a little awed, Patton observed the look of concentration on the handsome man’s face as he touched him as if he were a fragile, newborn bird. He had a hard time understanding why he wasn’t angry. Anger always followed him after days like the one he had just survived. And then, he recalled a day early in their friendship. Logan had come to fix his lights with barely cleaned scabs on his hands. Patton had taken care of him. He had knelt before him much like Logan was beside him now and had silently wrapped his hand and arm. He had liked doing it.

Fear and tension finally seemed to seep out of him, making him almost weightless in the warm water. Seeing Logan from Patton’s perspective made him suddenly, clearly understand why the man did all of this. He liked taking care of people. Perhaps… perhaps he was more like himself than like Trevor. What a novel thought, to see Logan not as the hardened cop with the frightening temper – severe and dangerous, but to understand that he was just a man wanting others to feel safe and good, a man just wanting to help, like Patton, and that he sometimes did not know how to do it right – like Patton.

When the detective looked up to check if the changing of the bandage had hurt him, Patton curled his fingers around the larger hand and smiled, warm and loving.

“Thank you.”

For the first time, the words were not spoken with fear or guilt, but calm gratefulness. The tone seemed to shake something loose in Logan’s chest. His posture relaxed with a shaky breath. He smiled back – a small, tender expression.

“You are welcome, Patton. Now, tell me what I may do to make you comfortable, please.”

“Okay.” Patton answered softly. His insides felt very warm, suddenly. What a welcome relief from the freezing loneliness and despair that had nested so deeply in his chest. Yet, the image of Trevor standing over him, raising his fist to strike, his shaking hands undoing his fly, his body lying on the floor unmoving kept threatening to creep up on him. He needed a distraction.

“Would you tell me a story?”

Contemplatively, the detective brushed his fingers over the sensitive inside of the smaller man’s wrist, casting his mind back to find a suitably light anecdote to lighten the mood.

“Did I ever tell you about the incident that led me to arresting Roman?”

Patton perked up, interested and a tad worried about his big friend. Poor Roman, he hoped they hadn’t had a fight! The corner of Logan’s lips turned up at the memory though. The baker shook his head curiously.

“I’m afraid I am not much of a storyteller. You are advised to allow Roman retell the story to you at a later occasion.” Logan warned a little shyly before beginning his tale.

“We had not been partnered for very long and were still working at our first precinct. Roman had been out of commission due to a viral infection for a week while I worked a case of a robbery. It proved to be a stimulating puzzle. Though the evidence I had gathered was circumstantial, I believed to have located a group of five middle aged women as the possible culprits with reasonable certainty. All I required to close the case was a warrant to search the premises they had chosen for their operation in order to identify the serial-numbers on the money I believed they had stored at the apartment. Unfortunately, my previous Captain believed I had imagined the connection on a basis of a misogynist mindset.”

Patton gasped, scandalized at the accusation. “But that’s not true!”

Logan ducked his head, feeling his ears heat upon being defended so passionately. “No, certainly not. However, Captain Smith failed to take my logical reasoning into consideration. Additionally, he did not appreciate my calling out the hypocrisy of his belief that women were incapable of robbing a money transport.”

“I bet he didn’t.” Patton mumbled, feeling his admiration for the other man grow. He could clearly imagine an annoyed Logan telling off a superior officer fearlessly. Surely, he would not be scared to stand up for himself.

“I was frustrated, since I irrationally believed the case would surely be solved already had I been able to rely on Roman’s insight. This assessment, based on emotion rather than evidence, angered me further due to it being unprofessional.” The detective confessed, focusing on Patton’s small hand in his bashfully. The slender fingers looked very delicate in his own, rougher ones.

“To my great consternation, it looked like I would not be able to adequately complete my assignment due to a lack of creativity or ability to convince my superior. Then, however, Roman returned.”

Patton leaned closer, captivated by the little lift in the older man’s voice. Although composed and calm as usual, he seemed fond and pleased at the memory.

“Upon being confronted by my less than tranquil mood, Roman asked me to elaborate on all of the details of the case. After my conclusion, he excused himself briefly and returned in a regular police uniform, grabbed my hand and escorted me outside. Once we had arrived at the apartment building the suspects had taken residence in, he asked me to wait in the car for him so I would not be recognized from the interrogations I had conducted. Then, he proceeded to ring the suspect’s doorbell and to my horror identified himself as a police officer and demanded to be admitted to the premises. Of course, I feared such behavior would not only frighten the suspects into getting rid of the evidence, but also cause them to take legal steps against Roman or the precinct, with would have caused us considerable problems and doomed the case for certain.”

Flushing slightly at having to relay the shenanigans of his friend, he rumbled, “However, I appeared to have underestimated my young partner. After about 20 frankly agonizing minutes in which I feared not only for the case, but for him as well, he emerged from the front door in a rush, dressed in nothing but...”

“But what?” Patton asked, alight with curiosity. The fact that Logan was flushing with embarrassment drove all other thoughts from his mind.

“Dressed in nothing but his- his underwear – preposterously patterned might I add, several bills trailing after him and sticking out of the garment.”

“What? Nooooo!” The patissier squeaked, trying to make sense of what the poor man must have come up with. Logan chuckled at his tone.

“Indeed. Knowing we needed to secure samples of the stolen currency in order to compare the serial numbers of the missing money, he decided to pose as a male police themed stripper. As he had expected, they must have assumed one of them had ordered him for the purpose of celebrating their success and enthusiastically chose to pay him according to his performance. Once they worked out none of them had placed the call to any escort agency, he made a hasty exit with the evidence  without his clothes.”

“Oh my gosh! Did it work?” Patton asked, eyes wide.

“Certainly. The serial numbers matched. Roman gloated for days.”

The patissier cheered gleefully, so easily swept up in the success of his beloved friend and very eager to forget his own feelings.

“That is amazing! He did so well! But - why did you arrest him, then?”

“Well, unfortunately, Roman escaped the building and rushed onto the busy street in quite a hurry. Apparently feeling elated at his success, he yelled ‘Gotcha, ladies!’ just as he jumped outside. At the same moment, a group of mothers heading for their spinning class were passing by and unfortunately received the wrong impression.”

Patton felt terribly guilty. Those poor women must have gotten such a fright by a tall, almost naked man leaping at them and Roman had not deserved to look like a sex offender at all. Yet, he laughed until tears ran down his cheeks and his elated squirming nearly caused the tub to overflow.

Chucking with him, Logan’s face showed nothing but warm amusement as he explained, “In conclusion, by popular demand, I was forced to arrest him.”

His face ached from smiling as he recalled Roman’s pouting and loud complaining as he cuffed him and gently herded him into the back of his car, furtively brushing his hand through his silky locks lovingly while making sure he wouldn’t hit his head on the door-frame. His partner’s face had been flushed from exertion and his hair was in disarray from long nailed, manicured hands running through it. Yet, he’d been proud, so proud, of solving a case for Logan. Around the next corner, he’d climbed into the backseat with his friend and released him, before wrapping him in his jacket. Though he’d griped about the unsanitary nature of the bills and refused to touch them without his leather gloves, he’d been filled with an affection he’d still had no idea what to do with, back then.

“So you were able to solve the case with him after all, like you thought.”

Patton’s admiring observation brought him back to the present. He was right. Despite feeling embarrassment for the illogical wish to have Roman there to confide in and the childish hope to want him to help find some impossible miracle solution he could not see himself, his partner had come back and had done just that. Logan would have never come up with such a ridiculous, clever plan. His friend had saved his reputation around the precinct and had proven he was just as reliable as Logan had wished he would be. Perhaps he hadn’t needed to feel so uncomfortable for wanting his partner with him after all.

Patton watched him with soft eyes, comfortably curling up in the warm water, weightless and safe. He didn’t feel ugly or ashamed when Logan turned his eyes back on him, dark and caring. The closed wooden door of the bathroom enclosed them in soft light and the quiet breaths of two people who did not need to speak to feel connected. Separated from the world outside and all of its cruelty and worry, Patton enjoyed the scent of Roman’s perfumes, the lush greenness of the plants filling up the glass of the windows and the way his smaller hand fit into the detective’s. The moisture of the bath’s steam settled on everything like dew on a spring morning. It coated every surface with a blanket of a softening veil. It washed out all colors and muted every sound until everything took on a pale, hazy quality. The mirrors and windows turned opaque with fog, protecting Patton from the harsh reality of his reflection and the sharp edges of the outside-world. He felt like he could stay this way forever – until he noticed just how itchy his scalp was.

Reaching up unconsciously, he winced as his stomach and bruised torso protested sharply. He whimpered softly, curling around his abused middle slightly. Logan looked panicked and helpless immediately. Patton couldn’t help giggling. He didn’t know where the reaction came from, he’d never dared to do anything like that with Trevor, but his realization that Logan just wanted to help and care and was so good and so bad at it at the same time – he was just so strong and brave and intelligent and sometimes so clueless, it was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen.

“I’m fine, Lo. It’s all good! Just itchy, is all. You can scratch that problem!”

Though in pain, he smiled at Logan contently, finally feeling like himself again. It was astonishing how Logan could consume his very thoughts with his presence and push everything else from his mind. Especially the blank look the man gave him at his very clever pun coaxed a real smile from him.

Now that he noticed the blood crusted around his hair and skin, he could not quite ignore it anymore. He resigned himself to the effort it would take to at least rinse it out. He had to admit that Logan had been right. He wanted the memories of this day washed away from his body completely. Once he woke up tomorrow, he needed as much of the violence that had been committed against him forgotten as possible. He could not bear any more anger and bitterness to touch him. Not here, in this place covered in dark wood and colored fabrics and pet hair. Not here, where Roman nested on the couch with fluffy pillows, fashionable magazines and bright paint, where Virgil had learned to smile again and those poor animals were growing fat and glossy. There was something magical here - healing magic, he was sure of it. And the source of it was this man who would likely scowl at such a ridiculous idea. Patton didn’t care. How could he doubt what he felt was true when those hands were soothing his pain right now.

Logan had reached out tentatively, patiently waiting for the other to refuse it he wanted, before parting his pale brown curls to check on the wounded skin and crusted blood.

“Would you like me to wash your hair?” He inquired. The thought of leaving Patton marked by his violent experiences did not sit well with him.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I’ve washed myself plenty of times after I fell.”

‘After he fell’ - if Logan noticed Patton falling back into old patterns of making up excuses he mercifully said nothing about it.

“It would be illogical to attempt it yourself. I already told you that I do not mind taking care of you, and I shall tell you again as often as you require hearing it.” The detective explained patiently.

Patton flushed slightly, realizing he was right. Accepting help and thus being a burden was just so hard for him to do, no matter how often he’d been told it was okay today. Logan did not sound annoyed though. The way he went about rinsing the blood from his hair with the softest spray from the shower-head did not feel like the task burdened him either. He was utterly focused on the attempt of not aggravating his injuries or getting water into his eyes, so Patton didn’t have to worry about a thing as his bangs were brushed back by long, slender fingers and his locks combed this way and that. It was a soothing feeling.

After a while, he became warm and weightless. Those capable hands in his hair caused pleasant shivers to run though him even as they sometimes hurt a little. Patton didn’t care. Being petted like that made him feel like he was melting. Keeping his eyes open was becoming increasingly difficult, so he allowed his eyelids to flutter closed trustingly, focusing only on the sensation of tender hands rubbing his skull. The moment felt intimate, yet he was not ashamed of his swollen cheek, split lip, discolored shoulder or the way his body was built anymore as he’d become in so many other intimate encounters. Here, surrounded by sweet smells and being touched like something fragile and precious, everything seemed far away. He’d agonize over the things he’d left behind in his flat later. Right now, he was protected and cared for.

A scratching noise, accompanied by a sudden, pleading sort of mewling woke him up from his slumber. Muffled by the door, a whispered curse reached his ears as Virgil hastily tried to remove the escaped kitten. It had grown quite playful and energetic in the last few days, alternated by bouts of sleepy, loving cuddliness. Considering how tired and ashamed Patton had been, they had simply grabbed everything that could cause him stress and locked themselves in the kitchen so Logan could calm him down privately. Virgil could understand the urge to hide better than anyone after all.

Patton appreciated the security the closed doors had provided him with so very much. He still felt anxious and humiliated by the prospect of being confronted with his other friends, even though now that he was reminded of the existence of the tiny, perfectly fluffy kitten, he wanted it.

“Would you like me to help you get ready to go to sleep? If you like, the kitten may stay with you of course. It is yours, after all.” Logan offered gently.

It was?

Patton didn’t have words. Hearing Logan admit so easily to having adopted a pet for him, a thing he’d always wished for, made the patissier feel so- loved.

The detective lifted him out of the tub easily and settled him in the chair in front of Roman’s vanity before handing him a large towel to wrap up in while he went to find clothes for him. Feeling much better than before, Patton managed to get out of the robe and huddle in the towel by the time the knock sounded at the door. His protector helped him get dressed with the utmost respect and gentleness, careful to neither look at nor touch the revealed skin. All of the clothes he’d brought him were well worn and soft from washing them often. The shirt looked like it might belong to Roman -  white cotton with a faded, rainbow-colored crown printed on the chest. He even carefully rubbed the washed curls dry. Though Patton promised he could make it, Logan insisted on carrying him to the bedroom.

The younger man was very small in his arms as he cradled him close. It felt a lot like carrying a cat, this time, since Patton wasn’t shivering and tense anymore, but soft and mellow in the way he yielded to the touch. He seemed to sink into his embrace with a trust born from contentment and tiredness. In his half asleep state, it took the small baker long moments to realize where he was being set down and tucked in.

The comforter that was pulled over his thin, bruised shoulders was midnight blue and smelled of laundry detergent. A single gray hair made his snub nose itch. Finally feeling much calmer, Patton noticed the wooden beams running along the ceiling, the shelf built along the opposite wall filled with colorful books, plants and papers as well as plastic models of what looked like toys at first glance. He spotted a bright red Baymax figurine, a circular replica of what looked like the USS Enterprise, a duck-like model of the star-ship Serenity. Next to the bed, sitting on top of a crimson copy of Isaac Asimov’s collected works was a bluish porcelain figure of Bulbasaur with a succulent planted inside. This was most certainly not the living-room!

“I can’t sleep here, Logan! This is your bed! I’ll just curl up on the couch, I’m sure there is plenty of space left.” Patton exclaimed, feeling dreadful at the thought of chasing the poor man from his room. It was clearly a very personal space for him. No matter how very intrigued he was at encountering actual toys in Logan’s room (how endearing!), he would not impose! As it had become a pattern for them already, the detective refused his attempt to make himself small and invisible with admirable patience.  

“No. You are injured, Patton. I will accept no refusal. Please allow me to do this for you.”

His voice and the strong hands pushing him down carefully left no room for refusal. He was blushing, Patton noticed as he was covered securely. The mattress was just perfect under his body that was so tired and painful to move, taking the weight from his throbbing ankle and the pillow was so downy – his eyelids grew heavy. Yet there was a restlessness in him again that did not allow for the other man to just – just do everything for him! He had to- to- he wanted to help. To be useful after being so-

“I should see if Roman and Virgil are okay. I probably scared them, poor things.” Patton rambled, trying to rise and escape the unpleasant thoughts of being useless, being worse than useless, creeping into his mind.

“Patton, you have no obligation to think of anyone but yourself right now.”

“Of course I do!”

How could he say something like that? He’d been so selfish already!

Logan looked tired as he caught him around the upper arms and pushed him back down slowly and deliberately.

“No, Patton. I must once again ask you to rest now. I can see that something causes you to feel agitated, but whatever the issue is, it will be dealt with in the morning, with our help. I can ask Virgil and Roman to visit you while they bring the kitten to you if that is agreeable to you?”

It was. Having Logan take the lead and simply forbid any attempts to move and talk and helplessly try to make things less terrible was a relief. He sighed thankfully and closed his eyes for only a moment.

He must have been more tired than he’d thought. The next thing he noticed was a soft purring rumbling under his chin as a silky furred tiny cat rubbed itself against him. It felt like a living little engine, rumbling and happy.

Virgil was there.

He’d knelt next to the bed, pale and thin and anxious. His long fingers were twisted in his hoodie, hie shoulders hunched, his dark eyes bruised with bluish shadows. A hurt sound escaped Patton that was not caused by the stinging pain of opening his arms for a hug.

Virgil crawled into the offered embrace with a little hitch of his breath and held on oh so carefully. The patissier buried his face in his neck and clutched at the bony sides of his kiddo, feeling too much, too hurt, too exhausted. Yet he loved Virgil so much – his thin body in his arms, it made his throat almost close with rising tears.

A grumpy warbling sounded from the side of the mattress Virgil had just climbed, followed by a dreadful tearing sound of little sharp claws ripping expensive fabric. A little despairing noise escaped the older detective.

The top of the fat raccoon’s head was appearing at the edge of the bed, suddenly boosted up by a large, helpful hand under the furry bottom. Patton flinched almost violently.

The whole room stilled in shock, especially the tall, handsome detective who’d unintentionally caused the frightened reaction. Roman looked devastated.

Curling his prettily manicured hands to his chest, he stepped back to Logan’s side, green eyes wide and guilty.

“Oh- dear Patton, I apologize earnestly for- for frightening you. I’ll just- I’ll leave you and the others alone.” He muttered, giving him a brave, unsteady smile. Patton almost fell off the bed trying to stop him. Both Virgil and raccoon rumbled a complaint while the kitten simply rolled where it was moved with a jostled purr. Though his bruised face paled from the pain, the baker’s voice was strong as he called his friend back.

“NO! Ro, please c’mere! I’m so sorry, it was my fault, I love you bunches, please come and let me hug you!”

The plea did not have the desired effect though. Roman’s lovely eyes filled with tears. Holding back a sob only barely, he slowly sank down on the mattress (ignoring a hiss as he almost settled on a striped tail, there were too many animals, okay?). He cupped Patton’s reaching hand carefully, telling him seriously “Patton, darling, you do not need to apologize or take care of me. We are here to protect and aid you. You do not have to be strong for everyone all the time. And- of course I love you like sunshine on flowery petals as well, but how about you relax and I hug you for a change, my dear?”

Oh. Okay, he would like that actually, as long as it helped his sweet RoRo not to look so crushed because he couldn’t handle the simplest situations again. After waiting for his nod, Roman slowly crawled behind Patton to envelop him in his careful embrace. Though Patton had agreed to the contact mainly to show his poor friend that he loved him and did not want him to feel abandoned, now that he was there to loosely hold him, it felt really good. Safe. Roman smelled as nice as the products scenting the air in the bathroom, especially his thick caramel locks. The kitten wormed its way back under his chin, briefly making Virgil splutter as he got a mouthful of hair. He’d been very quiet, the poor kiddo.

“It truly loves you.” Roman rumbled gently at the tiny baby cat started to knead the cotton shirt contently.

“The feeling is mewtual.” Patton promised truthfully, hoping for the sake of his friends that his tone sounded light and unconcerned. It was easier than he’d expected to push the frightening coldness inside of him aside. He imagines it coiled and moved inside of him, icy and alien with its tentacles that suddenly shot out and turned to ice in his throat at unexpected moments. Patton could barely remember a time where it had not been settled inside of him, this thing that had crept down his neck in terrified nights where tiny Patton had squeezed himself between the couch and the wall as his father had screamed. It had been there so long, he sometimes feared its tendrils were growing into his flesh and becoming part of him, make him colder and colder until he could not move his limbs anymore, leaving him frozen and trapped the way he had been as a child. Helpless.

He’d learned to live with it, nested like a parasite next to his fluttering, full heart. Sometimes, late at night, he imagined feeling it grow, taking space from his excitable little heart. He’d lain there, silently wrapped his arms around his chest and had been afraid.

This time however, Roman’s arm was wrapped around him. Virgil had gently laid his head against his ribs. His heart grew, taking back some of the space stolen from it. It beat strong, surrounded by quiet company as he was. Logan had settled on a comfortable looking brown leather chair by the large windows, briefly battling a bunch of feathered fern leafs that tried to take up too much space over his shoulder where the adorable rat apparently needed to sit. Roman’s tense muscles were loosening behind him where he had the feeling of being able to protect Patton from the cruel world and Virgil – well, he was still very small and quiet in his arms, but he was holding on.

Patton got distracted from his worry by a weight dipping the soft pillow at his head. Cat was stomping around it, trying to find a comfortable spot close to, but not too close to her humans. She finally settled on her side like a fat sausage with an audible ‘thud’, her head curled adorably with her furry belly resting against Virgil’s head. Her foot was close to the patissier’s face.

Was that nail polish?

Distracted, he sent a questioning look Logan’s way. He’d know what was going on. Sensing the attention, the detective looked up from petting the composed rat in his palm and examined the now professionally cleaned, pointy claws. The sigh that escaped him could only be described as long-suffering.

“Roman, you can not put nail polish on a forest critter.” He reprimanded his partner severely, trying to ignore the sheepish look the little delinquent attempted to hide in Patton’s shirt upon hearing the accusation directed solely at the young detective.

Roman’s metaphorical feathers rose immediately. “I beg your pardon? Your- stray showers with you! How is that not worse than adorning this poor beast with some culture and beauty?”

Patton tuned the argument out, for once not feeling too concerned since he heard Virgil’s soft snort at the detectives’ expense. He quite liked the burgundy coat that decorated the pointy claws actually. They looked snazzy and went well with the golden spot at the tip of the striped tail. It swished slightly, landing in Virgil’s hair and mixing with purple locks. The patissier’s blinks turned longer and longer as his limbs grew heavy and he was lured to sleep by the gentle rumbling of Roman’s words resonating through his chest where it was pressed against his back. Both detectives had gentled their deep voices, now exasperatingly arguing softly about the acceptability of clipping an actual miniature diadem on a raccoon. He fell asleep thinking it would be a cute idea. For once, there were no stressful thoughts of having to disentangle himself from the people he loved to go back to a flat covered in cold, white tiles and bone-pale leather furniture. The comforter wrapped around him was ironed smooth and warm and the air was thick with the scents of perfume, plants and animals. Virgil’s breath was soft and quiet on his skin and still, the kitten was rumbling its love.

______________________________

If anyone has ideas about what might happen next, I’m more than happy to hear them! My mind is a little empty right now >.< Comments make me happy weather you have ideas or not though <3

Check out the art and writing which always makes me the happiest of people!

FICS:

You can enjoy this incredible take on what could have alternatively happened in this chapter if you feel like reading more. It is absolutely moving and wonderful! Link

ART:

This graphite drawing made by @charmingkari shows a lovely image of Virgil after he got caught by the Scorpions. It’s very sad though.

@dweeborg drew a really intense close up of Virgil which I really love.

@bangthekobrakid colored in a drawing of Roman with the long hair for me and made it really really cool looking!

Next Chapter

[prettywordsyouleft]

Could You Marry Me? - Part 6

Summary: Marriage was something you dreamed of reaching after falling in love with the man of your dreams. Yet the romantic in you is thrown out the window when you end up having to fake your engagement with your personal assistant.

Pairing: Son Hyunwoo x reader

Genre: office au / ceo x personal assistant / co-workers to lovers au / romance / fluff / fake dating

Warnings: none

Index: Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

The alcohol flowed down your throat more easily once dinner was over and when Tanith attempted to convince you to stop; you merely shook your head and hiccupped. You could still feel your burdens and you craved to be weightless.

The only answer you had to your predicament was to effectively forget it.

At least for tonight, anyway.

And so you continued your self-inflicted journey, each new round of alcohol making you feel warmer and then effectively frozen once downed. You wanted to hold something more than the glass you cradled within your hands. It had comforted you thus far, steeling your heart and loaning you some liquid courage.

And somehow it had produced Hyunwoo in front of you as well.

“Oh! Woo is here. Hyunwoo-woo-woooo!”

Hyunwoo didn’t respond to your calling, talking to someone who you weren’t able to see within the haze of your mind. When he turned back to you however, you grinned lazily, lifting your arms up and falling against him. Drunken stupor or not, you were well aware of how strong his arms were, and you enjoyed the feeling of them around you as he helped you out of the bar and into his car. You whined when his support left you, shivering against your seat. You were lonely again.

“Why did you drink so much?” he asked once on the road and you blindly threw a hand out, dismissing the question as you nuzzled into the upholstery. Now that you were within his comfort, you were exhausted. You could feel your dreams reaching out to take a hold of you, lulling you into a world where Hyunwoo was yours and not because of a contract.

And then you stirred, realising his arms were around you again. He had scooped you out of his car, lifting you with ease into his embrace. You froze, unsure if you liked being up this high. It was too dangerous and sobering being this close to his face with you bubbling feelings right under the surface.

The alcohol had done nothing to remove them and if anything, you had the sudden realisation that this would hurt a whole heap more in the morning. You groaned.

And Hyunwoo chuckled. “Why would you drink so much if you were going to regret it?”

“Do I have to answer that?” You patted him on the shoulder gently. “You can put me down. I can walk, I think.”

He was vexed by your request, unsure if it was safe to do so. You gave him a firm look and he reluctantly set you down on your feet. Silently thanking Hyunwoo, you turned on your heel and went to walk inside your apartment block, losing your footing a moment later and ending up wedged between a wall and Hyunwoo’s body.

You should have stayed in his arms, this was considerably much worse.

Although you could feel some of the effects wearing off from your self-inflicted haze, there were remnants of the carefree nature the alcohol lingering in your system. With Hyunwoo pressed up against you like this, entrapping you effectively from doing anything but soul-searching his face, you felt another heady state envelope you instead. Your hand involuntarily reached for his cheek, cupping it tenderly as you gasped at your sudden connection.

It was his turn to groan now. “You’re always like this with me.”

“I’m what?”

“I can never figure out how you feel towards me, Y/N. Every time you get drunk, this always happens.” He ran a hand through his hair unsteadily, and for the first time, you saw how vulnerable he was. The turmoil was evident right in front of you, held within your hand.

It didn’t take you more than a second to reach for his lips in hopes to remove some of it.

You had expected a burst of passion or some fantastic sense of this being the most magical moment of your life. You had envisioned kissing Hyunwoo for days now. And yet here you were doing just that and the only thought that came to mind was how familiar his lips felt.

They were like a home you hadn’t visited in some time, melding against yours in a way that your brain remembered and also didn’t. The kiss, laced with the taste of bitterness from the alcohol and something sweet that he had eaten earlier, was something you had tasted before. The moment washed over you heavily with déjà vu and yet you couldn’t finger point why.

You pulled back, breathless, looking up into Hyunwoo’s eyes. They were blown wide with lust. You had seen this before too. Gripping onto his arms, you shook your head, trying to decipher why all of this felt like you had done it before.

“You never remember in the morning. Not once,” he admitted, his gaze growing guarded, protecting him from allowing you to see anything further. You blinked slowly, watching as the shared moment retreated from his expression and then Hyunwoo went to move his arms away as well. You gripped on, urging him to stay.

“This… has happened before?”

“Y/N, don’t make me fall for you even more. It’s cruel of you to do this to me time and time again. I’m equally as foolish for allowing you to.”

Your mind reeled with the answer in between his words. You had kissed Hyunwoo before. Possibly more than once. And you never remembered because you only did it when you drank too much. You grappled at clarity, shooting him an accusing look. “You could have told me.”

“You never remembered. Would you have believed me if I told you that you kissed me when you were drunk? It would only lead to awkwardness and distance from you which would make our working relationship a nightmare to navigate.”

Once again you were reminded of just how well he knew you. It annoyed you completely, no matter how much you had learned over the past few weeks, he was still so far ahead of you. He had protected your vulnerable moments, buried your rash decisions and carried his own burdens of being unable to admit you had done this before. He was too good at assisting you that he didn’t seem to realise how little he was regarding his own place in the situation. It annoyed you further.

You looked up at Hyunwoo, squaring your jaw. “Hyunwoo, I need you to do something for me.”

“What can I assist you with?” he asked, and for once you were grateful for his inability to remain unshackled from his position. The statement was weak in delivery; his eyes trying to find the answer before you spoke it.

“You have to ensure I remember this time.”

You could already feel the regret before you attempted to open your eyes. Your head throbbed and your stomach was upset. You didn’t feel steady despite knowing you were laying in your bed, feeling as if the world was spinning around you whilst you remained closed off from seeing it.

And then you felt the comfort of a hand on your stomach, gently running slow circles over your skin.

Sitting upright, you groaned over several things. The sudden movement made your head slosh about, intensifying the ache within it. Your eyes snapped open, and the bright morning light burned as if you were staring into the sun itself. And the hand that had been on you smacked into your ribcage, taking your breath away in the process.

“That wasn’t very clever, now was it?”

You looked towards the voice, finding Hyunwoo at your side. Okay, so you were dreaming. Because no matter how much you wanted this, there was no way he would ever find himself within your bed.

Not even when you were married. You were convinced of this.

Yet the world around you seemed too painful to be made up. In every dream you had ever had, not once had you experienced the sting of a hangover as much as you were now. And you could see the sleep within his eyes that had barely opened themselves.

You squealed, wondering how on earth you were sharing your bed with your personal assistant. Pointing out at him shakily, you slowly moved to poke into the flesh of his upper arm. Hyunwoo was really there.

And looking rather amused with your dramatics.

“What happened?! Why are you in my bed? How come you look so good first thing in the morning? Can you even see out of the squint of your eyes right now?”

His husky chuckle only sent you into overdrive and you shifted back, untrusting of yourself.

“What should I answer first?”

“Everything I asked,” you implored and Hyunwoo nodded simply.

“You got drunk and your friend called me to help bring you home. You then kissed me when I was taking you up to your apartment and insisted on making sure I didn’t let you forget this time around. And then when I tried to leave you in your bedroom, you proclaimed you wouldn’t trust me in the morning if you didn’t wake up to something as ridiculous as this, not to mention you fell asleep on me before I so much as had a chance to move away from putting you down. I’m not sure if I really look good in the morning since my face gets puffy but I can assure you that I can see despite how little my eyes appear to be open as I’m afraid to say, your hangover doesn’t make you look very appealing to me this morning. I’m a little disappointed to wake up beside you for the first time and see you like this actually.”

Well, you could trust in Hyunwoo to always fill you in on any situation in a straight-forward manner, regardless of the facts he had to share.

Embarrassment flooding your features, you held up a hand to silence the conversation, mumbling that you were going to shower before heading slowly yet purposely to your bathroom. Once you were somewhat resembling a proper human being again, you moved out into your living room, where you found Hyunwoo in the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat in seeing his back profile in your apartment cooking breakfast. You shook your thoughts away, not trusting your emotions at all this morning.

“I remember,” you told him as soon as you were in the same space as he was and Hyunwoo smiled. “I remember the kiss this time around.”

“That’s a relief.”

Really, that was it? As you had internalised everything under the condescending rain of water in the shower, you had come to the conclusion of expecting some kind of confession from the man if you told him what you knew. After all, you distinctively remembered his earnest frustration of last night now that you were awake. That had to encourage some kind of feeling from him, right? He had wanted you to remember in the past and now that you did, well, he wasn’t very forthcoming with a reaction. You stood there dumbfounded, and Hyunwoo continued to cook. When your silence became unbearable though, he finally turned to look at you, running his gaze from your head to toe. His eyes rounded ever so slightly and his grip on the spoon he was using to cook with slipped.

“What’s wrong?” You shifted to the food he had now abandoned, taking the spoon from his fingers before it fell entirely and stirred the soup he was working on, your gaze darting between the food and him.

“Huh?”

“You just froze up, what did you see that made you react like that?” you continued, prodding him gently. Hyunwoo flinched, still highly affected. Your heart started to thump harder, or maybe it was your head, but the way he had turned to stare at you was kind of hard not to drown within. And unlike him, you weren’t much of a swimmer.

“I saw you.”

“And?”

“Is this how you look every morning before you get ready for the day?” he wondered and you shrugged, unable to say anything with how much your mind was swirling. Hyunwoo smiled. “If this is what I’ve been missing out on, I can’t wait for the rest of our married life to wake up and see you like this.”

Eyes wide from his statement, you said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t want to marry you.”

Wait, what did you just say?!

_________________

Part 7

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[stormquill]

Misconduct, Ch. 13 [Soldier 76/Reader]

You have an extremely inappropriate crush on your commanding officer. Maybe if you work hard enough, you’ll stop having feelings.

Credits: Collaboration with @antiloquist. Follow the blog / AO3 mirror @miss-conduct.

You levelled your gaze in the bathroom mirror as you adjusted the fit of your uniform. The wrinkles within the fabric smoothed out beneath your firm palming, nary a button nor strap out of place.

You had recently returned from a covert operation in France, successfully capturing Amélie Lacroix and bringing her into Overwatch custody. During the course of the mission, however, you learned the true identity of your Commander. Not only was the late, great Jack Morrison alive and kicking, but so was his ex-partner, Gabriel Reyes, an Overwatch-leader-turned-international-terrorist in possession of biotech you didn’t believe humankind would be capable of inventing within your lifetime. To add insult to injury, shortly after you returned to base, Soldier 76—no, Morrison—stepped down as your commanding officer without so much as a single word of warning.

A laundry list of recent events.

Had you forgotten anything?

Athena delivered your request to meet him at sundown, and you took his subsequent silence as an agreement.

There was no planning to your conversation this time, no flowcharts or emergency courses of action. Your dialogue would be directed by the worry in your bones, the weariness brought on by Amélie’s murderous gaze, by Reaper’s aura of death, by the feel of Morrison’s blood pouring down the front of you as you carried him back to the dropship.

With one final adjustment to your jacket, you crouched down and laced up your combat boots.

You dressed like you were on a mission.

That’s precisely what this was.

-

The training grounds felt familiar in a way little else did. The mechanical hum of bots reached your ears and gave you a boost of adrenaline, preparing you for intense drills, the preemptive rush almost pavlovian. This was where you first hauled out the gun you built, the one you could barely lift on your own. This was where you trained, where you improved your endurance, your strength, and your aim. Just yesterday, a few floors up from where you stood now, was where you got drunk and tossed bottles for McCree to pick out of the air with his revolver.

This was where it started, and this was where it would end, one way or another.

Another deep breath to steel yourself as you rounded the corner.

You almost didn’t recognize him.

Clad in cargo pants and a plain black t-shirt, Morrison leaned against the metal barrier bordering the cliff’s edge, keeping his back to you as he looked out over the landscape. No jacket or visor, no mask or pretense—just him and his presence, whole.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said, not turning to face you.

You did not reply.

His voice had a warm clarity you hadn’t heard unhindered by the mask since you sat back-to-back on the hotel room floor in France.

It felt like such a long time ago.

(Him and his damn frozen burritos.)

Your thoughts poured in with varying levels of patience, filtered through the consideration of how many emotions you would let yourself bring to the conversation. You had questions, many questions, questions you made a point not to plan beforehand because he did not deserve the courtesy of your organization. As frustrated as you were, you had to maintain composure, as revealing how much his actions had affected you would have compromised your position. These mistakes were his to resolve, after all. Not yours.

Keeping an arm’s length from him, you approached his side, gripping the railing with both hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said at once.

You kept your tone even. “Do you know what you’re apologizing for?”

“Too many things to count.” He breathed out, slow and deep. “I warned you that I—”

“Don’t turn this on me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he replied, coolly. “I’m bad at this, Reader. I didn’t used to be, but I’m a few years out of practice.”

He was trying to be placating, you could tell, but the informality of his tone only served to annoy you. “Why are we here, Commander Morrison?”

He bristled at the sound of his name; it sounded so foreign, so distant on your tongue. “I stepped down as your reporting officer.”

“I know.”

An unfamiliar emotion—unfamiliar to you, at least—flickered across his face. The sudden set of his jaw, the slightest tug of a grimace at the corner of his mouth, both subtle traces of annoyance, but as his every microexpression was new to you, any reaction he let slip may as well have been spelled out before your eyes. It was satisfying, in a way, to see something other than the cherry-red vacancy of his visor across his face.

“I wanted to be the one to tell you, so you would at least know why.” His brows drew together in that old, familiar way they did when they still peeked up above his mask. “I stepped down so we could talk. Any questions you have, I’ll answer them the best I can. No secrecy. No bullshit.”

“You had to step down to do that?”

“I don’t make the rules anymore, Reader. I just play by them.”

The implication was not lost on you.

As a Commander within the organization, it went without saying he couldn’t speak openly because of his position. You were still new to Overwatch, and he was given orders to restrict what information you had access to; without him as your direct superior, however, he no longer had any obligation to stand in your way. Regardless of what Morrison told you today, Strike Commander Oxton was going to be under the impression you left this conversation knowing more than you should.

So you figured you might as well ask whatever the hell you want.

“...where’s Amélie?”

For a moment, Morrison looked surprised, as if that wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. “She’s in secure holding. Angela’s trying to figure out how to reverse what Talon’s done to her.”

“But she’s safe?” you pressed. “We’re not...interrogating her, or anything?”

“No,” he assured. “She’s been a prisoner of war for over a decade—Lena’s putting everything we have into her care. As a matter of fact, Amélie...” Hesitance gave him pause as he reconsidered his phrasing. “She asked about you the other day. ‘The one from Quebec.’ Wanted to know how you were doing.”

(Amélie was looking for you, too?)

Blindsided by the revelation, you were sure your expression of bewilderment had already given you away. No use trying to lie about it, now.

“We...had a few words on the ship,” you said, dismissively.

“That wasn’t on your mission report.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

You volunteered no further information. To your relief, he decided not to push.

Not right now, at least.

“I think she wants to talk to you,” was all he said.

“...can I do that?”

“Don’t see why not. Make sure you’re on Angela’s good side before you go asking her for favours, though. Take it from me.”

(Memories of you and McCree breaking into Dr. Ziegler’s office flashed through your mind, and you hoped you were half as stealthy then as you would have been if you were sober.)

After the events of Le Havre, you felt responsible for Amélie’s well-being; although she was in more-than-capable hands, that didn’t mean she wasn’t being harmed. Who had the final say in what was best for her, anyway? Had anyone asked her what she wanted, or did her condition render her incapable of providing informed consent? Did the countless attempts to reverse Talon’s procedure cause her any pain?

Would she even tell you if it did?

Weary, you dragged a hand down the front of your face to reorient yourself, covering your mouth as you stared out at the view beyond the training facility. Ice floes drifted at the foot of the distant mountains, the rocky landscape carving jagged edges into the horizon.

“You chased Reyes after we promised not to be reckless,” you mumbled into your hand, sounding bored.

“I did,” he replied. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m your strategist. I’m your escape plan. Not communicating your change of objective was stupid as hell.”

“It was.”

“You put both of our lives in jeopardy.”

“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

“You know, agreeing with me still takes all the fun out of standing up to you.”

“But you’ve gotten so good at it.”

You sneered. As quick as he’d always been to own up to his mistakes, acknowledgement alone wouldn’t be enough, this time. “I’m going to need more than that, Commander.”

“My intel had Reyes on a different continent at the time of our mission,” he explained. “I wanted to make sure we hadn’t been compromised, but it was my chasing him that ended up compromising us. He let himself be seen because he knew I’d follow. I should have known better.”

“Couldn’t just rack up the sighting to bad intel?”

He shook his head. “The intel I had on him’s never been bad before.”

“Really?” you said, incredulous. “Who’s your source?”

“Sombra.”

“...oh.”

“Once in a while,” he sighed, “she’ll find me and tell me where he is, what he’s up to, where he’s going. Thinks that counts as me being indebted to her. I told her it doesn’t. That’s why she contacted you in Romania. She knew I wouldn’t take the algorithm, so she got you involved to grab it for me.”

You thought it over for a moment. “Then why lie about Reaper not being in France?”

“Maybe to prove how much I’ve relied on her intel up until now. Maybe just for the hell of it. I’ve learned to stop trying to rationalize her motives a long time ago—whatever they are, they’re for her own benefit. No one else’s.”

Everyone was connected in one way or another, you realized. By virtue of being an agent of Overwatch, you were just as much a part of this tangled web of complicated pasts and ulterior motives as anyone else was, like it or not—and like or not, you’d entered this game at a disadvantage, as everyone involved seemed to have some history with one another you were forced to learn about on the fly.

The most pressing question of all leapt from your throat, quicker than you could think to contain it. “Was I the only one who didn’t know?”

“About Reaper?”

“About you.”

You knew the answer, of course—McCree had told you the previous day—but you wanted to hear it from him, if only to test the waters of his honesty.

And he nodded again.

“You were the first recruit we picked up after we got the team back together,” he said. “Everyone here’s from the old days, or related to someone from the old days. When I came back into the picture as Soldier 76…the rest of the world may have had no idea who I was, but they did. How could they not? We were family.”

“Was that why you liked having me around?” You felt your grip on the railing bar tighten. “Because I was the only one who didn’t know?”

His face fell.

“It wasn’t the only reason,” he said, “but it was a reason.”

(No bullshit, indeed.)

You weren’t sure if you had a right to be as frustrated as you felt. His identity was his own to protect, after all; as hard as it was to admit, he never owed you the truth. Even so, you felt like an idiot. You hated being caught off-guard. You hated not knowing all the facts.

McCree’s words rang through your thoughts, clear as day.

So are you mad at him for not tellin’ you, or mad at yourself for not figurin’ it out sooner?

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Morrison shift his weight, leaning heavier against the railing as he folded his hands together.

“I’m sorry you found out the way you did.” His voice was soft, but earnest. “I put on the mask to separate the man I am now from the man I used to be. You didn’t know who that was, but you took my lead, anyway. Spoke with me. Enjoyed my company. It...made me feel new again. I was afraid I was starting to consider you in ways I shouldn’t.”

“I’m pushing thirty, Commander, you can stop treating me like a child.”

“That doesn’t make the problems go away. I’m not your boss anymore, but I’m twice your age and I still have rank on you. There’s a difference in power dynamics, in experience—you might not see it as taking advantage, but that’s exactly what makes it dangerous.”

“I know,” you snapped in frustration, running a hand through your hair. “I know it does. How do you think I felt, crushing on my superior like some kind of tired cliché? I’ve gotten this far in my career without ever—I thought I was better than that. I tried to convince myself out of it. I thought working by your side would be enough.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

Your stomach sank. He hadn’t sounded accusatory, but somber, almost sympathetic.

“And by the time you realized it wouldn’t be enough,” he continued, “it was too late to say anything. Not without undermining all you’ve done and making it seem like your emotions were the only thing keeping you around.”

You watched him stare down at his hands, as if the words he was searching for were held somewhere between his fingertips.

“You’re smart. Tenacious. Diligent. If I were to...if I did anything that might’ve suggested I brought you on for a reason other than you deserving to be here—”

“I know I deserve to be here,” you interrupted. “Had my doubts for a while, but that was before I saved your ass.”

He chuckled, and the sound was music to your ears.

His striking blue eyes shifted to glance in your direction, the remnants of his laughter lingering in his smirk. “Guess there’s nothing stopping me now then, is there?”

“...stopping you from what?”

“There’s another reason I stepped down, Reader.” Wavering under the intensity of your gaze, he was no longer quite looking you in the eye. “I don’t want command over you, anymore. I don’t see you as my subordinate. I haven’t for a while.”

You had to keep yourself from trembling. “What am I to you, then?”

“An equal,” he said. “A partner.”

The bottom of your stomach fell out and shattered, filling your insides with slivers of ice as something dense and panicked tightened within your chest. There that word was again. ‘Partner.’ What he hadn’t had since he went rogue. What Winston once said Morrison had always been training you up to be. Your mind grew overwhelmed with the memory of a clawed, shadowed stature and a dark voice and a life-changing chance once gambled on.

How could you ever measure up?

“I’m not Reyes, Commander,” you whispered.

“I never wanted you to be.”

Vulnerability weighed upon his shoulders, the likes of which you’d never seen him bear, before. The gears in his head were turning, you could tell, thinking of you, and of him, and of where you would go from here. His eyes alone were so expressive, you noticed—a stark contrast from the statuesque carbon-fiber stoicism you were used to. You hadn’t realized how much the mask was hiding until it was off.

Maybe that was why he wore it so much.

“I’ve betrayed your trust,” he said, firmly. “I know that. I would like to work on getting it back, if you’ll let me.”

From where you once placed him on a pedestal, recent events had cast him in a lower, imperfect, more mortal light. The man you once idolized stood before you, nearly wringing his hands in anticipation, as human as you’d ever seen him. You respected him more, but you revered him less. You figured that was a good thing.

It was then when he looked away from you, returning his gaze to the absence of answers held within his barren palms.

So you gave him one.

Reaching to cross your forearm over one of his own, you wove your fingers between his, your silent gesture unapologetic and sure.

His hand curled back around yours at once, like a reflex.

He laughed quietly in disbelief. “Didn’t think I’d get a chance to feel this way about anyone, again.”

You felt him run a thumb across your fingers, the gentle motion making your breath catch in your chest. You glanced up at him; though he’d kept his voice steady, his eyes were glazing over, and the unexpected reaction decimated what remained of your resolve. The warm smile he gave you wrinkled the corners of his eyes, his expression giving you the briefest glimpse into a man many years younger.

“Truth is,” he beamed, “I’m crazy about you, sweetheart.”

You felt your heart seize within your chest.

The weight of his words collapsed on you all at once. It was you who made him feel hope, you who affected him so profoundly, you who made him question what he once swore off for the sake of self-preservation. You’d imagined him confessing before, but no amount of idle thoughts and private daydreams would prepare you for hearing the words out loud.

There was something settled behind his eyes, as well—something unsettling you couldn’t ignore. This was a man who didn’t seem to be afraid of anything, who made a career out of staying level-headed in the toughest of situations, and here he was before you, absolutely terrified. The last time he gambled on something like this, life and circumstance dealt him a poor hand; now, all these years later, he wanted to try again.

With you.

It was only when he brushed a finger to your cheek did you realize you were crying.

He breathed another small laugh, shaking a few of his own tears loose from the corners of his eyes. He could see you replaying his words inside your head—he could always tell when you were overthinking—and he squeezed your hand tighter to let you know how much he’d meant it.

You wanted to hold him close, to burrow deep inside his chest, to reach straight into his heart and fix whatever it was that made him so goddamn scared. But he would have to let you, first. You couldn’t do that if he continued keeping you guessing.

“Stop isolating yourself when things go wrong,” you said, the first on your list of ground rules. “You did it after Romania. You did it after Le Havre. I don’t need to know everything, but you need to stop disappearing on me.”

He nodded with total understanding. “Force of habit from going solo. I’ll work on it.”

“And I need you to talk to me more,” you continued. “If we’re doing this, you can’t keep me wondering where your head’s at.”

“You got it. That does go both ways, you know,” he teased.

“Hey, I never said I was any good at this, either.”

You gave him a sly smile and wiped your eyes on the back of your sleeve. Earlier that day, you didn’t think you would be standing in full uniform before your casually-dressed Commander, the two of you recovering from tears as he took orders for what he could do to restore your trust in him. A rare opportunity, indeed.

It would be a shame if you didn’t take advantage.

“...one more thing.”

“Name it.”

You levelled his eyes again. “Do you really want to be with me?”

He didn’t shy away from you, this time. “I do.”

You let go of his hand and took a few slow steps backwards, sliding away until your fingertips broke contact.

You hoped the smirk you gave him was half as playful sober as it would have been if you were drunk.

“Prove it.”

His look of confusion turned to surprise, then to determined understanding as he watched you walk away.

There had been a resolve in his voice, a finality, the kind that made you realize he would move mountains for you if you so much as wished it.

You had issued him a challenge. It was his turn to give chase.

And he was all too happy to comply.

[waterchestnut123]

CHAPTER 1 / The Peculiar Perils of Straw Hat Parties

Common commentary throughout the 5 seas held that Straw Hat parties were notoriously wild. This is something that Trafalgar Law, as well as the rest of his crew, are also learning first hand. Not that Law particularly feels like partying; after Dressrosa, the Heart Pirates Captain has a little soul-searching he’d like to attend to. But one tends to become… drawn in, to certain things around Luffy—regardless of one’s plans or intentions. This is how Law finds himself developing an unlikely and unexpected friendship with his ally’s navigator—and how that friendship, much like Luffy’s parties, grows far beyond his intentions.

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Chapter 1: More Than Meets The Eye

Chapter Rating: T Warnings: Mentions of canonical character death, sexually suggestive content

Thinking back on her first impressions of him atop that bleak, snowy hillside on Punk Hazard, she would have laughed at anyone suggesting the captain of the heart pirates was anything more than a cunning sadist with hidden malicious intent; after all, one manipulator knows another. She had him pegged the moment she met him: sharp eyes belying a calculating brilliance beneath his cool exterior, who knew the power of few words and subtle suggestion. He was a shichibukai—and she never had met one she liked, with a sizable bounty to match her estimation of his dangerousness. Yes, she had him pegged; or at least, she thought she did.

Had anyone dared to inform her then of how she herself would come to view him in but a few months time—as not merely a valued ally and friend, but a lover, she would have choked on her own spit.

But a lot can happen in a few months time; this, Nami would come to learn with startling clarity. And perhaps she shouldn’t have been so surprised. After all, during Straw Hat parties, anything was possible.

—:—:—:—

“I think I see it! I think I see it!” Luffy hollered eagerly from the crow’s nest, arms already stretching to swing from the mast before he’d even finished speaking. Nami smiled, glancing down at the jittering vivre card in her palm before murmuring to Franky who stood beside her at the helm.

“Seven degrees starboard should bring us alongside them.”

“Aye aye!” he responded with a grin, turning the wheel with slight, precise movements.

Glancing out at calm water, she could see in the distance the telltale swell amidst the usual ocean waves as the Polar Tang began to near the surface. Glancing briefly up at the sun—it looked to be around 4:30 in the afternoon, she estimated it would be about ten minutes before they reached their ally’s ship. Though he tried to hide it, she could tell he was eager to be reunited with his crew—especially after the unanticipated events on Dressrosa.

With clear skies and smooth waters, their allies located and no enemies in sight, it seemed they would finally have a bit of a respite—and about damn time.

She walked to the railing, quickly scanning the deck for her crew mates. Usopp sat fishing off the starboard side, animatedly telling one of his tall tales to an enraptured Chopper, and Zoro hollered insults at Sanji from beneath one of the deck trees—just the men she needed.

“Oi, Usopp! Zoro!” As both men turned to her, she gestured above her. “Start raising the sails!”

Before they could voice protestations she turned her attention to Law who sat quietly against the fore-mast, his Nodachi resting against his shoulder—a comparatively calm presence in an otherwise chaotic array of personalities staggered about the deck.

“Ten minutes ‘till we reach your crew, Torao.”

He tilted his head back to look up at her, golden eyes bright beneath the shadowed brim of his hat as he smiled—or, well, his version of a smile.

“Thank you, Nami-ya.”

She had to admit, It was nice to have someone with some semblance of manners on board. She nodded with a small smile, returning her attention to the vivre card and the rolling ocean waves.

—:—:—:—

“Incoming!”

Franky’s shouted warning was followed by a loud thunk as the gangplank fell onto the deck of the Polar Tang, connecting the two ships.

“Oi, oi, easy on the paint Robo-ya!”

However Law’s protestation was quickly drowned out by the stampeding footsteps of his crew, Bepo well in the lead as he ran full-pelt across the gang plank towards him.

“Captaaaaain! I’m going to hug you!”

With little ceremony the bear launched himself at a wide-eyed Law, who staggered back at the unexpected force. Wrapping around his captain’s upper half, the heart pirates navigator gleefully indulged in what couldn’t be more appropriately termed a bear hug.

It was, if she had to put a word to it, cute to see the way Law reacted to the show of affection. It was subtle—likely by intention if she knew him at all, which she liked to think she’d come to at least a little; but Nami was well-versed in subtlety even if most of the rest of the crew seemed incapable of comprehending the meaning of the word. His head tilted down just a bit to hide the glimmer in his eyes, and a small smile tugged insistently at the corners of his lips, his posture relaxing easily into the bear’s fuzzy embrace. She leaned forward on the railing, smiling.

“Shishishi!” Luffy’s laughter echoed from the forecastle deck as he launched himself towards Law and his congregating crew.

“We should celebrate! Oi! Sanji! Make everyone some meat!”

Luffy’s sudden declaration startled her out of her amusement over Law’s covert huggle session with Bepo. She straightened, her eyes darting to Sanji—usually a voice of reason, who was instead walking towards the kitchen. Anxiously, she returned her attention to her own captain.

“Wait, Luffy! Don’t you think we should maybe dock at an island or something first?! We’re out in the middle of the sea and this is the new world—the conditions could turn on us at any moment.”

He turned to smile up at her without a trace of concern, draping his arms easily over a smiling Bepo and a frowning Law who stared at the offending hand but made no move to remove it.

“It’ll be fine, Nami! Who knows how long it would take to find an island; and besides, you’ll know if the weather changes before we need to do anything about it—you always do!”

She felt her ire flare at his statement. He was absolutely right, of course—but his shameless flattery did little to minimize the fact that he had openly admitted he was relying on her to keep an eye out for danger while the rest of the two crews partied. She couldn’t kick Zoro’s ass at a drinking contest (and fleece him for all he was worth while she was at it) if she had to be the responsible one! Responsible people were sober!

“Baka!” she shouted from the railing, leaning over it further in her anger, “You don’t get to have fun while I’m stuck keeping your sorry asses safe!”

Luffy simply laughed, releasing both Bepo and Law. “It’ll be fine, Nami! This is a celebration so you should have fun, too!” He then turned towards the kitchen, stretching his arms for the railing as he shouted again. “Oi! Sanji! Meat!”

“I’m already on it, you rubber idiot! Be patient!”

“Yohohoho!” Brook laughed from the swing, standing and pulling out his violin. “Shall I play something for the occasion?”

“Suuuuperrr!”

Nami sighed, leaning against the railing with a hand to her temple. As she glanced out at the deck with a resigned huff—she well knew when she was beaten with her crew, she felt eyes on her. Following the sensation, she found Law gazing up at her display of exasperation with a hint of amusement. He readjusted his nodachi on his shoulder, one golden eye twinkling beneath the brim of his hat as he smirked and gave the smallest of shrugs, before turning to follow an excited Bepo into the kitchen. She couldn’t help but feel a little heartened. At least someone else recognized the inconvenience, even if it wasn’t anyone on her nutty crew.

—:—:—:—

The sun was just beginning to set, amber light turning the blue water seafoam green as it hovered above the horizon. The party had just begun to get underway, and Law was on his third mug of ale. Limbs loose and a rare smile on his face, he gazed out at the water from the solitude of the upper aft deck. The sweet smell of citrus blossoms danced in the air with the mouthwatering tang of Sanji’s shish-kabobs, piped up to the deck from the kitchen chimney not far from where he leaned against the mast.

He felt… peaceful; free. It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, nor one that he yet trusted, but it was nonetheless welcome. So much of his life had been dedicated to seeking vengeance against Doflamingo—building his crew, honing his skills, training and preparing and planning; until that vengeance had been achieved, he hadn’t realized how much he had pushed aside, the simple pleasures he had ignored or left unnoticed—the desires and whims he refused to allow himself.

Like watching the sunset and enjoying the smell of citrus blossoms.

Though there was a small, instinctually protective part of himself that refused to believe Doflamingo was really, truly dealt with, with the Shichibukai’s imprisonment a tremendous weight the likes of which he hadn’t fully comprehended had lifted from his shoulders—and for the first time in over a decade he felt able breathe deeply. His world, once black and white and grey—life and death and suffering, had been suffused with color. Everything was just a little bit brighter; sounds were sharper, smells were stronger…

From the lawn deck, he heard the lilting laugh of the Straw hat navigator rise above the chatter of their two crews. Frowning down at the tightness forming in his pants, he shifted uncomfortably.

Other things seemed to be… stronger, as well.

He’d never given his sex drive much consideration over the course of his life. Sure he’d had the occasional liaison, but his physical desires had never been much of a preoccupation. It was yet another thing he’d come to notice these past few weeks—something that his fixation on vengeance had repressed over the course of years; now that his decades-long plan had finally come to fruition, his mind suddenly found itself wholly unoccupied, and quite open to new stimulus.

It was in the wake of this realization that he, for the first time really, noticed how little the Straw hats’ navigator actually wore.

While the archeologist also tended to prefer less fabric to more, she was nowhere near as daring as Nami. Sure, he had been aware of this fact for quite some time—in concept. On Punk Hazard she’d been wearing nothing more than a bikini top and jeans, and in Dressrosa she’d reduced those jeans to very short shorts. But it hadn’t quite… registered, in some higher part of his brain, all he skin left exposed.

And good God what she left exposed…

Objectively he recognized that she was attractive; she was all long legs and full breasts, with a narrow waist and bright eyes… Her wanted poster was a favorite among pirates and marines alike, something he’d noted with some amusement when he’d crossed the Navy’s path as a Shichibukai. But like with her attire (or lack thereof), he hadn’t quite… registered, how striking she really was, until a few weeks ago.

It had made life aboard the Sunny a bit more trying in a way he hadn’t been expecting. He’d grown accustomed to Luffy’s… exuberance, grown familiar with Sanji and Zoro’s constant bickering, the small explosions originating from Usopp’s factory. All things considered, he rather felt he’d adjusted quite well to the overall lunacy of Mugiwara’s crew. His gratitude for their (albeit unexpected) loyalty on Dressrosa certainly aided his patience.

But he had not anticipated, nor had he been prepared for the wholehearted return of his sex drive after recovering from his injuries aboard Bartolomeo’s ship.

He quietly sighed, leaning against the main mast as he watched the sun slowly sink towards the water. In the larger scheme of things, it was a relatively small price to pay. He had some catching up to do, perhaps, once they reached a habited island; find some woman to charm into his bed for the night (or several) and relieve the tension his own efforts failed to. Until then he’d just have to suffer through Nami’s undersized wardrobe. Subconciously he rubbed his right arm; he’d been through far worse, after all.

The sun was beginning to ripple and waver as Law breathed in the crisp ocean air, savoring the silence of the deck. The party would get into full swing soon enough, he was sure, and he aimed to get a little peace before the ruckus was inescapable. He lifted his mug to his lips, swallowing back the remaining ale in his mug. As he closed his eyes, basking in the warm amber light, the squeak of the observation room door caused him to creak an eye open and glance towards the source of the noise.

“Oh! Hey Torao, I didn’t think anyone was up here,” Nami said with a smile, shutting the door behind her with one foot. She had a basket on one arm and shears in the other and, he couldn’t help but gratefully notice, wore a thigh-length sweater—far more than she’d been wearing earlier in the afternoon.

“Nami-ya,” he acknowledged before returning his gaze to the sea, debating the pro’s and cons of descending into the commotion of the lower decks to refill his mug.

She walked towards him—or rather, towards her trees which occupied the space against the other side of the mast.

“Here.”

Without preamble she thrust her basket at him, beckoning him to her trees as she knelt before them. “Since you’re just standing there, help me with this real quick—I want to finish before the sun goes down and I’ll work faster with two hands.”

Perhaps it was the foreign feeling of calm aboard the Sunny making him unusually compliant—refusal only briefly crossed his mind, but he did as instructed. Standing next to her with the basket in hand, he watched as she thoughtfully pruned the first tree, inspecting each mikan carefully and gently placing the ripe ones in the basket.

“You know there are easier ways to fend off scurvy. You don’t have to keep live citrus trees on your ship.”

“That’s not why I keep them,” she answered smoothly without turning from her task, gently squeezing a mikan between her fingers before deeming it ready and giving it a gentle tug. She then turned thoughtful, pausing in her task before adding, “Well, not the primary reason anyway.”

He eyed her a moment as she moved to the next tree, placing her clippings in a bin beside the small grove.

“Then why do you keep them?”

She smiled softly as she reached for the next fruit, rubbing a smudge of dirt from it tenderly before answering.

“Because they’re from my mother’s grove. A little souvenir of home.”

“You’re from east blue, right?” he asked, though he felt he already knew the answer. Mikans were a common export from that ocean.

She hummed in response. “Bellemére—my mother, ran an orchard, where she raised my sister and I until I was ten. Best Mikans in all of the Conomi islands,” she boasted proudly.

Law eyed her as she carefully parted the tree’s branches to reach a more hidden fruit.

“Why did you leave then?”

He didn’t know why he was asking, but curiosity and boredom encouraged his curiosity.

She stilled, fingertips gently brushing a particularly broad leaf as she gazed at it, eyes faraway. It was several moments before she answered.

“She was killed; and I was kidnapped and forced into a pirate crew.” She was quiet a moment before adding with a small laugh, “It’s kind of how I met Luffy, actually.”

Law’s brow furrowed and he eyed her closely as she resumed her task, but did not respond. As he was learning from his time aboard the Sunny, all of the Straw Hats had more to them than met the eye—Nami was no exception. A pirate at ten years old… he could certainly relate.

She finished her pruning in silence, though it was a peaceful silence. Law’s eyes once more navigated out to the sunset, where the bright orange orb was meeting with the water, mind briefly returning to his earlier thoughts—tumbling and drifting much like the waves.

Doflamingo was gone…

When finally she stood, he extended the basket wordlessly and she took it with a smile, her eyes on him uncomfortably analytical. She placed her shears carefully beside the ripe fruit before returning her gaze to him, then following his eyes out to sea.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Like there’s a little part of you that refuses to believe you’re really free.”

Her voice was soft, her eyes kind, yet despite that Law felt himself bristle at how easily she had seen through him.

“And what makes you say that, Nami-ya?” he inquired guardedly.

She hummed quietly, tilting her head at him with a small knowing smile as she answered.

“Because I felt the same way when Luffy saved me.”

She didn’t wait for a response, merely turned and walked towards the door with her hand raised behind her.

“Thanks for the help.”

Then, she disappeared into the library.

Law stared at the door for several minutes, not quite sure what to make of her words—or her, for that matter. She was the one member of the crew he’d had little time to get to know personally, and had perhaps dismissed the most readily. But there was quite a bit more to Nami than met the eye. She was far more perceptive than he gave her credit, for one; and he was seeing more and more how foolish that dismissal was.

He returned his gaze to the sea. The sun was now half hidden by the horizon, and he watched the rest slowly sink beneath the waves as he let his thoughts turn. She wasn’t wrong; Doflamingo had haunted him his entire adult life. Now he was gone, wrapped in twice his weight in seastone chains at the bottom of Impel Down. It was hard to believe that someone who had been such an omnipresent and looming specter could truly be gone, though It was a change he was happy to try and adjust to.

It did, however, make him wonder about her own life, and what her careful words had only hinted at. He’d had no idea she’d been a pirate before joining Luffy—for it had been on his crew that she’d gained notoriety, and it made him wonder: who was Cat Thief Nami before she was the navigator on a Supernova’s crew?

He heard her reappear on the lower decks a few minutes later, the assaulting shouts of Luffy pulling him from his thoughts.

“Oi, Nami! Have you seen Torao?!”

Law frowned. He had sought refuge on the furthest deck from the festivities specifically because he wanted some distance before the party became inescapable, hoping that the rest of his crew would be enough of a distraction for the other captain. Apparently not. He let out a sigh, pulling away from the mast as he made for the door—and another hiding spot—but stopped when he heard her response.

“Haven’t seen him,” she responded casually. “Have you checked the sub?”

He stilled, a smile growing before he let himself relax against the mast again. He uttered a silent ‘thank you’ before turning his gaze up to the darkening sky. Yes, Cat Thief Nami was full of surprises.

Stars were just starting to emerge, and he decided he’d enjoy what extra time she had bought him. Straw hat would find him soon enough, and besides, he would need to head down there eventually if he wanted to refill his mug. By the sounds of the growing laughter and the noodling of a guitar—Brook, no doubt—the party was just getting started; and he knew, soon enough, he’d be swept up into the pace of the straw hats—whether he wanted to or not.

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[caribbeanempressblog]

Bound to you pt 6

Genre: Ot7 x Reader > Vampire x Witch series

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff ,Smut, oral sex female receiving, rough sex, vampire sex,blood drinking,magic using.

part 5

“Hell would have to freeze over for me to not  go”  you challenged stubbornly to all the occupants that stood in the great library. 

It was almost two hours ago since you and Hoseok got back from the village the events from the day still fresh on your mind. The sun had already gone to sleep when you cross the threshold into the manor tired and sore and famished.

Jungkook face was was a welcoming sight as you pushed open the kitchen door, well not his face per say but the food he held in his hand waiting for you to like a vision among the clouds. You didn't know how you would survive without them.After that you had taken a long hot bath to soothe your aching muscle from the ride. Now you stood clad in a loose fitting peach colored Egyptian silk dress arms folded tight causing wrinkles to appear on the delicate fabric as you state your case.

“Butterfly that's not a good idea” Seokjin said calmly as he occupied one of the high chair that was lined around the ovol table. A map of Avalon spread across the table as they debate which was the safest course to take to the mountains. The map had seen better days because now it was marked with black and red x depicting where was safe and where was not.

You huffed in response clearly irritated that they all thought it wasn't safe for you to go.

When you had told them what you had discovered from the rogue vampire they were skeptical at best a little upset you neglected to tell them beforehand but it was already done no sense dwelling on the past. They trusted you and your judgement and you believe what the vampire told you so they agreed to go in search of the lost book if only they would agree to let you come.

“And why is that?” You huffed hands planted firmly on your waist.

“Well for one we wouldn't be able to go on horse that means vampire speed is quicker and safer last time I checked you didn't have that” Yoongi replied before Seokjin had a chance to open his mouth. There he went again with his honest opinions.

You looked over at him standing between Seokjin and Hoseok a little taken aback he hadn't spoken directly to since the night before since the fallout clearly he was still upset but at least he was speaking as platonic as he tried to make it sound. You wanted to kiss him and let him know you were sorry you wanted to be wrapped up in his arms like you do each day. You wanted him to tease you about your bad piano skills that you couldn't quite get no matter how hard you practice or how patient he was in teaching you. Time was running out you couldn't waste it being angry at them for wanting to break the curse even if it meant you had to do the unthinkable .Your facial expression must have gone sad because Jimin was patting your back asking if you were alright. You smiled at his kindness and observance reassuring him that you were as you focus back at the task at hand only to see yoongi watching you intently you looked away.

“What if you get there and there is some protective enchantment?” you argued not one bit deter by his remarked.

“Didn't your rogue vampire say a witch was the last one to see the book” Taehyung said more of a statement than question you disregard his use of ‘your vampire’ as the hint of amusement found its way to his voice.

“ He did but what if she isn't welcoming to vampires” you argued.

“ More importantly what if she isn't welcoming to witches who shows up in the company of vampires” Namjoon ever the intellect who hasn't spoken a word since you pitched the idea to them spoke.No doubt he was probably working out the pros and con of this whole thing in that big brain of his. Always the one to offer wisdom and clarity to the situation.

“ Things wouldn't end well little one” he finish eyes caressing your face as he pushed his powerful frame away from the bookcase  he was leaning against then walking over to the table in four powerful stride.He placed a gentle comforting kiss on your forehead your eyes fluttered closed in response to his affectionate gesture, his hands found their way to your shoulders offering a gentle squeeze.

He was right you hated how right he was afterall it was the same reason you didn't want any of them to go with you to the village with you only a few hours ago. You wanted them to be safe and you were naive to think they wouldn't ask you to stay behind to preserve your safety.

You sighed in defeat muttering a fine under your breathe. It made no sense arguing with them over something so trivial when they were right.

“How come you only listen to Namjoon hyung when he tells you no?” Jeongguk wondered from his place on the sofa.

“What I'm suppose to listen to you brat” you smirked just as Namjoon hands left your shoulder as he moved to gaze over the map.

Jeongguk pouted and you smile crept to your lips ever the dramatic one.

“ Now that we got that out of the way we need to plan how we are going to execute this mission” Hoseok said a level of seriousness overtaking his features you come to know he only brings out when lives was going to be put on the line.

They all hummed in agreement as Yoongi position himself over the map he was the expert tracker in the group whenever a mission needs to be carried out Yoongi was always there. You watched as his brow furrowed in concentration as his long fingers pointed a spot on the map. There was something sexy and attractive about the way he talked with such confidence and assurance that you felt yourself going hot all over wishing he would use those fingers to do something to you instead.

“ If we pass through the village of sleepy hollow then through greenwich forest we can take the path to  mountain from there”Yoongi explained as he moved his finger along the map depicting where they should pass.

“Isn't Greenwich forest witch territory?” Jimin questioned from beside you. You stood between him and Namjoon at one end. Yoongi Hoseok and Seokjin at the other end. Jeongguk was still at the sofa while Taehyung on the side of the table.

“It certainly is” Seokjin said brows furrowed as to why Yoongi would want to go through there.

“Isn't it safer to go around twin peak then cross the river into Damascus then take the road to the mountain from there?” Seokjin also had his fill off pointing out places on the map he thought was best.

“That's a whole five days journey” Namjoon said thoughtfully “even with vampire speed Yoongi route is the quickest”

“Quickest yes safest no that's the Blair witch territory they are ruthless” You said a nervous edge creeping up spine suddenly you didn't like this Idea anymore. Not when you knew the dangers they were going to be faced with out there and even worst you wasn't going to be there to help.

“I think we can handle a few witches” Jeongguk confident voice came from the sofa.

“Not just any witches kook” you said tone serious so he would make no mistake to never underestimate these witches.He made be an expert fighter the best out of all the guys but compare to the witches it was child's play. “They're notorious for their black magic they will suck the life out of you before you could say jinx ”

Jeongguk was not moved. “Sounds like every other witch to me but whatever”

You open your mouth to scold him for his nonchalance but Namjoon beat you too it.

“ Never underestimate the power of hate it makes people do unimaginable things” was Namjoon words to him. He looked defeated as he mumbled something under his breath then pushed his shoulder back on the sofa.

His words triggered something within you as you realize not only hate that makes people do unimaginable things but also love. You looked at each of them as they continued to go over the plans. You remember how skeptical they were of you when you walked through the threshold of the manor a day after you had help Namjoon escape  the utter joy on their faces knowing that their brother had survive. That joy had quickly faded when they saw you. They didn't buy that you witch would ever help a vampire or any witch for that matter. Yoongi even threatened to snap your neck if you tried to hurt them.But then the curse hit and everything changed in the last moment of chaos, when they realize that you would never hurt them even if it meant hurting youself.You had felt the connection when you all stood in that room together it was like something had shifted in the universe like a missing piece to a puzzle had finally being realized you didn't know if they felt it too but up until today you still didn't know what it was before you could explore it you found yourself with a decision to make them or you. You chose them.

“And the book is it even real?”  Taehyung voice floated to the confines of your mind pulling you back to the present.

“  I've heard about the tales of the book of souls though I've never seen it so real is relatively speaking” Namjoon answered.

“ it does exist If that's what you mean every witch knows of its power” you supplied.

Taehyung nodded satisfied with your answer as he folded his arms in front him.

“So is it settled do we take Yoongi path to the mountain?” Namjoon questioned as he looked at everyone in the room though he had the final say everyone opinions was heard and taken into consideration. No decision was made without everyone being in accordance.

Everyone nodded their approval. “ The path is the shortest and quickest because we are pressed for time we will take it but let me be clear the dangers out there are real we need to be precise”

You swallowed the lump that had grown in your throat each passing second you understood what they were about to do for what you had asked them to do. The dangers you unwillingly was about to put them through. The fact that they hadn't given it a second thought even though their lives would be put on the line made you want to do the same.

“I will do it” you said out of the blue making all eyes snap towards you.

“Do what butterfly?”

You looked at them more sure than you've ever been before.” If the book doesn't work I will channel you”.

They looked at you speechless you could see hesitancy on their faces especially Taehyung he detest the idea more than you. So hearing you spoke those words when you were so adamant only the night before took them by surprise.

Jimin entwined your hand in his cold but comforting one squeezing gently then bringing it to his lips.”Are you sure about this? “ he questioned as he dropped it back to your side still entwined.

“ I'm sure” you nodded.

“ Why the sudden change ?” Yoongi wondered eyes attentive on you like he always do when trying to figure out if you really meant what you say.

You took a deep breathe. “ Truth is I was scared, scared of risking not mine but your life as well but seeing your trust in me with this information and you willing to risk your life I think I should do same” you finish as tears welled in the corner of your eyes.

“You risked so much for us already you sacrifice your life so we could live I think you've done enough” Hoseok firm voice was quick to remind you.

“Hoseok right but you have every right to be scared to not want to do this only if you're sure” Taehyung reassured you.

You nodded afraid to speak lest you burst into tears like a fool.

“We wouldn't be here without you I wouldn't be here without you I owe you my life don't you forget that” was Namjoon words to you his golden eyes shining with love and appreciation for all you've done for them.

“We love you butterfly don't you forget that whatever you decide we will always l support you” Seokjin comforting words filled the void of doubt cast by insecurities and fear.

“Yoongi Jimin Jungkook Hoseok and I will go we leave at first light” Namjoon said giving the final order of the night.

It made sense why he would choose those four Jimin and Jungkook was the best at hand to hand combat Hoseok was a master swordsman and Yoongi was a skilled fighter but his tracking skills was top notch Namjoon was the master negotiator he had a way with words that could compare to no other. All in all a strong team.

“Taehyung help Jimin and Jungkook gather the weapons”

“Yoongi Hoseok Seokjin and I will go over final plans”

Everybody nodded their acknowledgement as the made stir to get everything ready Jimin letting go of your hand in the process.

“Actually I need a few words with Yoongi could you guys do without him for a minute?”

Yoongi head shot towards you at your words his starry eyes held yours in silent question. An unspoken understanding passed between the two of you as he gave you a tiny smile.

“I think we can manage” Namjoon parting voice filtered through your thoughts as they cleared the room for the two off you.

You didn't know how long you stood there gazing at each other from across the table different emotion playing across both your features as you bask in the silence of the room said for the yellow embers that dance from the fireplace.

Yoongi was the first to break the connection. “You wanted to talk?” He asked as he stuffed his hands into his pocket eyes never leaving you.

You sucked your lower lip between your teeth in a bid to gather some courage then charged ahead wanting to get the words out as quick as possible lest it choke you ” I'm sorry I yelled at you I'm sorry that I was angry I just want us to be good I can't stand you being angry with me” you choked out tears brewing in your eyes as the weight of the past day crashed down on you.

You didn't see him move towards you maybe he used super speed or maybe it was the tears blurring your vision but suddenly he was spinning you around and pulling you into the comfort of his arms.One of his hands found its way to your waist the other the back of your head as you rest it on his shoulders. Your own hands resting in his slim waist as well as his intoxicating scent of wood and pine soothe you nerve.

“I could never be angry with you. I'm the one who should be sorry I shouldn't have suggest you to do something so dangerous knowing the consequences”his deep timbre of a voice spoke against your hair.

The rhythmic beat of his vampire heart reached your ears where it was pressed against his chest your closed your eyes listening to the sound as it offered comfort to you just as his voice did.

“Truth is I rather be the one in a box not you, you don't deserve this you're too good to pure”his voiced cracked though he tried to hide it you heard the quiver. Yoongi wasn't the expressive type when it came to emotions and feelings, not like you who left it all in the open no doubt involved.He was different, when it came to things he enjoyed he go on and on.  When it came to the piano and teaching you he'd have a lot to say or when his subpar tracking skills was the forefront of a conversation he'd take all the praise he got and offer his own stories of how spectacular he was but when it came to matters of the heart he couldn't quite find the words.

“Its so fucking hard living with myself knowing I'm the reason you're in there and I'm out here. The first time the curse struck I tried so hard to fight it i-” he swallowed as if the words got stuck in his throat somehow his eyes squeeze shut for of minute like he was trying to rid himself of the memory a memory far too painful to speak about. “I tried to hold out but I was weak the blood lust was stronger than I was”

You remember all too well what had happened that day you witness him struggle to not be the monster his nature required to be. It was you who had persuaded him to drain the last ounce of your blood or else he'd die along with you. The others had already started the process and you had already whispered the enchantment that was meant to preserve your life but he was no match for her dark powers or the curse she spewed out of hatred. It was all you could do to preserve your life and theirs.

“Yoongi I told you to do it” you said softly eyes caressing his features the glow from the fireplace casting golden hues across his skin.

His mouth twisted in distaste “ that doesn't make it any less ok”

“ It was your life or our life you could have ended us that day even we are no match for your magic but you choose to let us live. To sacrifice yourself instead. We were strangers we meant nothing to you I even threaten to kill you why did you save us? “

It seemed like an easy enough question you must have a reason to have done it to save the lives of seven complete strangers over your own maybe yoongi was right and you didn't have any self preservation but things wasn't as simple as black or white or as easy as 1 2 3.

Why?  Maybe it was because you blame yourself for it happening if you hadn't betrayed the witches and help Namjoon escape none of this would have happen but deep down you knew that wasn't it. Or maybe it was the fact that you couldn't save your family so you were looking for a bit of redemption. Could it be? Which leave you to the mysterious occurrence when you all stood together in that room for the first time. You realized something only you didn't know what you couldn't remember what it was that perspective that had shifted your entire universe it ignite a fire in your blood that you only ever felt one other time when your magic had awoken all those years ago. What did it mean?  So many questions yet you never truly know the answers?.

“I don't know yoongi but I do know I would do it all over again” of that one thing you were sure.

“This isn't your fault you know that we all know who is responsible for this you are as innocent as I am” you said furiously in an effort to convince his misplaced guilt.

His honey colored eyes soften as he looked down at you as if your words offer a little if not all consultation to his conscience.

“ I will find a way to break the curse one way another” you promised him.

Yoongi brow furrowed together as the sincerity of what you were promising hung in the air. His hand came to your shoulder as he gently pushed you away from him so he could see you more clearly.

“Hey I don't want you doing this for me or for any of us ” he said sternly eyes scanning your face.

“I'm doing it for us” you said simply because you were none of you deserve to live like this with this curse looming over your head like a bad omen. You had to do it even though you were scared or even if it means you would be lured to the dark side consumed by the power. Wasn't that better than having your blood drain from you? Two options none better than the other but you were willing to take the path dangerous as it was. Yoongi nodded seemingly convince by your answer.

“You're so beautiful so brave and fearless” Yoongi husky confession had you blinking at him heat warming your cheeks and spreading down between your legs. His hand worked its way towards the expanse of your neck brushing his thumb across the base of your neck right where your pulse was beating purposely. You shivered from his touch as he continued caressing your skin until his thumb found its way to your cheeks. You held his gaze as he stepped closer to you his thumb brushing across your lips as he head bent towards you.

His lips replaced his thumb as he claim your mouth in a searing kiss pulling you into his arms when you moaned into it. You opened your mouth eagerly inviting him in which he was more than happy to oblige to.

Before you could lose yourself in the depths of his mouth he was breaking the kiss leaving you whining in protest and breathless.

He didn't let go of you but pressed his forehead against yours his breathe fanning your face you wrapped your hands around his waist.

“Read my thoughts” he said his hot breath against your face making your skin tingle.

“What? “ you questioned  taken aback by his request. Entering people thoughts was one of the gifts your magic allowed you something the witches were eager to exploit given that you were the only witch in existence that was able to do so. Why? You didn't know you assume all witches had the same abilities but you've come to realize that you were far different from the other witches.How? You didn't know either the persons with the answers was dead. When you heard the rogue vampire mentions of the book of souls a part of you were eager to find it for that reason also it would hold answers to who and what your were.

But you never use that kind of power on them be it by consent or not so yoongi asking that off you took you by surprise.

You were lost in thought you didn't realize he was already bringing you hands to his temple until your fingertips brushed his skin.

“It's ok” he reassured you so you had no choice but to do as he asked. You closed your eyes as you brought your other hand to his temple. This type of thing required absolute concentration you did your best to let go and listen to what his thoughts was telling you.

It becomes painful for the person whose thoughts you are reading if they tried to resist it would require for you to break down all the barriers to the mind they tried to put up. It's just as loud and hard as if it was a real wall you're trying to break through and even more painful but yoongi had no resistance his mind was open to you all you had to do was listen.

“You're the best thing that happen to me I don't ever want to see you hurt no amount of physical pain can compare to what I feel when I see you in that box.”

You bit you lips trying to keep the tears at bay as his thoughts float through your mind the connection prominent letting you feel the pain he was feeling the sincerity of words.

“I love you more than life itself you are the fire that ignite my dead heart the sun that brightens my darkest days the water I see in the middle of the desert”

It was too much for you all the things he couldn't put into words spoken so freely in the confines of his mind. The way he felt about you the way he loved you. You dropped your hands from him and he pulled you into his arms once more then proceed to kiss all the parts of you he could find your forehead your cheeks your eyelids then your lips. You clutched at him like he was the pillar that ground you to this unsteady world as you deepened the kiss his words igniting a fire and need for him that threaten to consume you.

You kissed him deep and hard a clash of tongues and teeth as you moaned loud heat pulling at core.

Yoongi hands found its way to your butt kneading the flesh through your silk dress the soft material gliding across your skin added to the arousal currently coursing through you as he broke the kiss. He didn't stop though but continued down until he was kissing that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder blade as you angle your neck better as not to give him better access.

“God you smell divine” he whispered against your neck as he sucked into your skin deep enough leave a mark on that spot.

You release a breathe in response too wrapped up in what he was doing to respond as he continue lower towards your breast burying his head in your cleavage. His hand moved from where he was still cupping your butt to the front of your dress before you could register what he was doing the tearing of fabric snapped you out of lust haze.

You glared at him as the fabric parted down the front then slipped off your shoulder then gathered at your waist exposing your breast to him.

“That's my favorite dress!” You said incredulous as you stared at the ruin fabric. Yoongi a shit eating grin on his face unfazed by your outburst. “I know I bought it and I'll buy you more” was all he said. You open your mouth in protest but it faded into a moan when he took one of your nipple in his mouth twirling the erect bud with his tongue then tugging it between his teeth. You clutched at his dark hair for purchase pulling him closer to you then tugging on the strands eliciting a moan from him.

He soon found the other nipple doing the same dance with it leaving you seeing all the colors of the universe.Before you can think twice he was releasing you with a lewd pop as he lowered himself down your body.He release his grip on your waist letting the fabric pool at your feet on the carpet covered floor,he helped you out of it  along with your shoes as you kicked it aside leaving you naked said for your wool stockings.

He kneeled before you burying his head in your mound as he gripped your hips to keep you still as he inhaled your intoxicating scent groaning in response. Heat pooled at your cheeks then spread all the way down to your pussy at his rude gesture.

“I can smell how aroused you are flower” he crooned as he pulled at the waist of your stockings pulling it down your leg in one go then tossing it aside, at least he didn't rip that too.

He pushed you back against the table as he sling one of your foot over his shoulder exposing your dripping pussy to his gaze. His eyes darken as he saw the wetness pooling there then he dived right in his tongue chasing after your clit in one go. He sucked the sensitive flesh into his mouth making your head fall back in pleasure mouth falling opening in silent ecstasy. You gripped his shoulder as he used his middle and index finger to spread open your folds so he can tongue at your hole. He flatten his tongue on you thrusting in as far as he could as he continue to eat you like a man starved .Your knees began to shake as you felt your orgasm racing towards you full force.

“ Fuck yoongi baby don't stop” you moaned in pleasure as he slip two fingers in you at one go the wetness there like a dam overflowing allowing him easy access as he began to pump in and out of you with his fingers. You would think he'd find somewhere else to put his tongue but it was back on your clit pulling you toward the edge of ecstasy.

It was all too much for you as your orgasm came crashing down on like waves meeting sand, you screamed his name hands slipping from his shoulders to his hair pushing him closer to you as the intensity of your orgasm rocked your whole world. Your back was crying in protest from where you was pressed against the table  wooden surface, digging into your skin but that was the least of your problem as you came down from your high yoongi still licking at your core. You whined in protest closing your leg against his head to get him to stop overstimulation creeping in.

He release your leg from his shoulder as he came up from between your leg covered in your juices. You swore your heart stopped beating for a second because you've never seen something so erotic yet so beautiful. His dark hair was sticking to his forehead from the sweat and excursion of your love making his pink lips covered in your juices and running down his chin. The white shirt he wore was sticking to his chest giving you an eyeful of his nipples his erection straining against his pants.

He was the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

“You're staring” yoongi said wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

He wasn't wrong how could you not, who looks this good after having gone down on someone? You were positive you didn't look half as good as him and you didn't have cum on your lips.

“Can I suck your dick?”

Yoongi laugh a deep heartful sound his gummy smile coming out to play as he stepped closer to you pulling you into his arms you didn't know why he was laughing you were serious.

“As much as i'd like to fuck that pretty mouth I much rather be buried in that tight pussy of yours” he said playfully but the lust was evident in his dark globes.

He words alone had a new wave of desire washing over you as he worked on the belt to his pants unbuckling the button the pushing it down his leg letting his erection springfree majestic and proud.

You tugged on the buttons on his shirt letting the fabric slide off his shoulders an onto the floor exposing his flawless pale skin to your hungry eyes.

His lips found yours once more in a rough kiss while you closed your eyes against his onslaught as your moaned into the kissing mouth opening to him.

The clatter of object hitting the floor made you aware the yoongi had just cleared the table with a swoop of his hand so he could better spread you out like an all you can eat buffet. He broke the kiss only to push you done onto the table with a gentle hand on your stomach, your back connecting with the cold wooden surface was a relief to your heated flesh.

You spread your legs open wide for him as he stood at the edge of the table dick in his hand as he pumped a few times precum already leaking and gathering at his pink head the pleasure of it so satisfying it had his mouth falling open.

“Are you ready for me baby?” he questioned as he lined himself up with your dripping entrance one hand on your hip to keep you steady the other on his dick.

You licked your lip in anticipation then nodded afraid to speak throat having gone dry and with that he was driving himself home into your pussy.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion still wet and sensitive from your previous orgasm but yoongi was met with no resistance as he glide himself into your walls.

Yoongi hissed between his teeth as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. “ Why are you so tight baby after taking all our dick so well?”

You didn't have an answer for him so you just mewl in pleasure lost in the feel of him stretching your walls to accommodate him.

“ I want to give it to you rough baby is that ok?” he asked through gritted teeth as he started to move in and out of your pussy.

“Fuck me however you want yoongi just fuck me please” you moaned as the satisfying need of having him fill you up was so overwhelming you didn't care how or what he choose to do with you as long as he did something.

Yoongi growled in response his eyes flashing red as he rammed into you with such force it had the table creaking in response.

Thrust after thrust he pound into you fucking you like a man possess his strokes so precise and so deep hitting all the right spot it had your second orgasm building moments into his onslaught. 

“Yoongi I'm close” you whined pathetically as you clutched as this arm that was holding you hips in a death like gripped to keep you from sliding.

“Not yet”he growled as he thrust into you so deep it had you and the table inching across the room.

Your eyes shot to his in alarm at the possibility of the table collapsing under the force that he was fucking you with it and at the fact that he had told you not to come yet.

Your heart almost stop when you saw the raw unadulterated lust and hunger with which he was watching you with as he continue to relentlessly fuck you into oblivion. Your titties bounced up and down with each thrust and his eyes was riveted to the provocative movements.

Your back was starting to hurt no doubt you would have a few bruises come morning not to mention your butt was crying out in protest.

But yoongi he looked like he was just starting and you began to wonder just how much more you could take.

Yoongi surprise you when his hand snaked around your waist pulling you up to him the action so sudden you welp in response when you found yourself in his arms.

“Wrap your legs around me” he ordered.

You did like he asked as he hands came to support your weight under your ass with him impaled in you still.

The sudden gush of wind let you know he had used vampire speed to whisked you both across the room and up against the bookshelf giving you no time to adjust before he was thrusting into you again like you were nothing but a rag doll.

You whined his name as your head fell back against the shelves this new position had him reaching places inside you that you didn't know existed. He respond by kissing you fiercely but tenderly and it made your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You've come to learn that any position that gives him easy access to your lips while he fucked you was his favorite though he never admit it but he really was a tender lover despite his cold exterior.

His lips left yours only for it to land on your neck as he offer licks and kisses to the sensitive flesh.

“I need to taste you baby ” he mumbled against your pulse and you knew all too well what he was asking of you.

He needed your blood to survive they all did effects of the curse but they never took it without your permission despite you making it clear you didn't mind. You knew why your consent to it matter so much after having no control over what the curse made them do to you they were always hesitant to take what the needed what their nature demanded.

You grabbed him by his dark locks so his eyes could meet yours so he would know you trust him and that it was ok.

“It ok” you told him and it was all he needed to hear as his canine lengthen and his eyes turned red once more and then he was burying his fangs in your neck.

The pleasure pain of it all was euphoric the feeling so delirious as he sucked the blood from your veins it had your orgasm reaching a crescendo. You pulled on his strands of silky hair eliciting a moan of content from him but you wasn't sure if it was from the blood your were supplying or the pleasure from it.

Yoongi was a skilled multi tasker while he drank from your neck he would snapped his hips up into you. The bookshelf creaked in protest from not being made to withstand such actions, each snap of his hips had the books flying off the shelves and zooming past your head but you was too wrapped up in the feel of yoongi fucking you so good it hurt in all the right ways possible.Before long your orgasm was tearing through you with such force and intensity the pleasure all round that it had you seeing the signs and wonders of the universe.

You coming undone was enough for yoongi as your walls spasm around him it was all too much another solid thrust and he was painting your walls with his seed.

Your breathing was just returning to normal your feet cramping from where it was still wrapped around yoongi waist when he detached himself from your neck licking at the wound tenderly to seal it off.

He cradle your head in his big hands eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “Did I hurt you?” he asked as he kissed the corners of your mouth your blood still on his lips.

You smile still feeling wonderfully sated.”Nothing I'm not used to”

He cupped your chin not buying your answer as he looked you over once more.

“I'm fine yoongi” you reassured him” but you need to go I told namjoon you'd only be a minute I'm sure it's been half an hour”

Which now that you've sorted out the issue and had mind blowing make up sex along with it you was left a little mortified the boys probably heard your sexcape you wasn't remotely quiet and even if you were they would still smell the pheromones from all the way across the manor.

Yoongi concede pulling out of you and setting you down on your wobbly legs while he made his way across the room gathering your clothes, while you groaned as his cum began dripping down you leg. You look down at the mess that was going on down there and cringe you hated the feeling of cum on your skin.

“Here let me” you looked up to see yoongi with your stockings in hand torn dress in the other fully dressed once more. You nodded letting him tenderly wipe away the remnants of your love making when he was done he tossed the soiled stockings in the fire igniting the burning flames then helped you into your dress which was gaping in the front that barely contain your ample cleavage now that it had a long split that reached all the way to your navel.

He grinned at his handy worked and you rolled your eyes telling him to leave before you made him feel your wrath. He wasn't scared though but pulled you into his arms for a final kiss before making his exit and leaving you in the upturned room with your thoughts.

You sighed heavily as you move to seat yourself on the sofa by the fireplace letting the warmth of the fire seep through your blood. You looked at the upturn room that looked like a tornado had passed books scattered everywhere the map turn upside down, the ink bottle tipped over spilling it contents on the floor.

“Tersus sursum” you sound out the allotted spell to clean the room letting the force of the universe do its work in the form of all the thrown items rearranging itself just as it once was making the room presentable as it was before.

Having powers or magic was something you struggled with for awhile after you burned the village down that day your family died. It took you three months after the witches found you to ever muster the courage to use it again. You were young and whatever happen that day made you convince it was a tool of destruction.Or maybe it was the way you discover it that had you so shaken about it the fact that it was torn from you all played a part in you wanting to suppress it.But you found your reasons to want it to be a part of it after you discover through healing people it was meant for good as well. But  you were so confused as to why your parents had keep such a thing from you. Your mother had been a witch obviously but she had to have known that it would pass onto you after all the gene was hereditary. You asked the witches about your mother but they had no clarity to offer you they have never heard of her and she didn't belong to any coven to exist. Which made you even more confused and feel even more of a black sheep having no idea of your descendant. How was you suppose to find your place in the world when you had no idea who and what you are? How was you to break a curse if you didn't know about the power you possess that you had to use to break it?.

How are you going to save yourself and the ones you love when you were scared of your unknown past? How were you suppose to save them when you couldn't even save your family? How were you suppose to do all these things? You suppose that didn't matter now because whether you like it or not you had to overcome the self doubt that pesky little inner voice that was always there to remind you that you wasn't powerful enough to save your family whatever make you think you think you could save anybody else now. But you had save that kid in the village today didn't you. Even saving one little life was a step in the right directions. The circumstances surrounding the boy being turned played on your mind like a harp string. Who did that to him and why? You had a feeling higher powers was at work here and there was more going on that you didn't know. Something was brewing an all out war was balancing on the tip of the iceberg one little shake and it would all come tumbling over. As much as you wanted to be in the know you had other thing to worry about.

You couldn't be doubtful now the boys needed you they was about to embark on this dangerous mission and you needed to help them somehow. But how?

You got off the chair a new level of determination rising inside you as an idea of what to do began to form in your mind. You reached the door pulling it open the Manor was eerily quiet no doubt the guys was making the final plans as in only a few hours they would embark on this dangerous journey. You had a mission as well as close the door behind you then make for the stairs towards your room one thought in mind you had to find a way to protect them.

You were just finishing up the charm when the first rays of sunlight cast it's head through your bedroom window letting you know a new day was about to begin and with it comes the boys heading out.

You groaned passing the back of your hand across your eyes to rub away the remnants of sleep that threaten to have you passed out on the rug coveredfloor. You looked at the items spread across your bedroom floor candles, a spell book, strewn lilies and of course the five enchanted necklace that was a result of your all nighter.

After you had come up to your room last night only having change out of the ruin gown slipping on your nightdress you had ran off to the garden to pick the lillies for the spell.

Lilies have long being the representation of all that is pure the epitome of light and goodness which is why it was the key ingredient you needed to cast the protective enchantment that will protect the boys from whatever mind games spell any witch could cast on them if they were to encounter any.

So your result had been five protective necklace for each of them. Your eyes struggle to stay open just as a gentle knock sound on your door and your name being called had you startling awake again.

You blinked just as Jimin came into the room already dress in all black. Black leather pants tucked into black spiked boots ivory shirt tucked in nicely held together by a black leather belt with a black leather jacket finishing up the look. His blond hair was upturn from him probably running his hand through it quite frequently and silver moon earring adorning each ears as his eyes immediately drawn to you and the pile on the floor concern already furrowing his brow when he saw you state.

“Baby please tell me you didn't stay awake all night?” He said as he dropped to stoop in front you.

“I had to finish this” you replied as you held up the necklace for him to see as his eyes narrowed on the object held up to his gaze.

“Um a necklace?”

You scoffed as you got up on your knees so you could slip the necklace round his neck and watch it  drop against his chest. It wasn't anything fancy just silver in color with a with a star and moon pendant connected to it.

“Not just any necklace it's enchanted meant to protect you from witches basic spell when they try to give you a brain aneurysm” you said matter of factly.

Jimin oh in response his hand cupping the item in his hand as he looked it over he dropped it back down as his brown eyes found you once more.

“ just when I think i've finally done something to deserve you I'm reminded that no matter how hard I try I will never be good enough for your love” he said sincerely.

“Stop it or else you will make me cry”

Why he have to say things like this that always tugged at your heart string and here you were thinking you didn't deserve them guess the feeling is mutual.

Jimin lips turned up into a smile as he helped you too your feet your legs crying in protest for having being tucked in for so long.

“We are getting ready to head out” he tells you as he pulled you into his arms his head resting on your mop of a hair.

You hand came around his waist pulling him tighter to you as you breathe in his scent of jasmine and cedar and odd combination but it worked well for him. The realizations of what they are about to do felt all to real now that it was finally happening.

“Hey” Jimin coaks as he gently pry your arms from around him so you could look at him only to see tears brewing in your eye. “ It going to be alright we got this and before you know it we will be back and on our way to break this curse yeah?”

You nodded maybe he was right maybe you were over reacting over thinking way too much they were going to be ok it's all fine and well. So why did you get that overwhelming feeling of impending doom that something terrible was about to happen?.

“We should go the guys are already gathered and ready ” Jimin says as he release you from his grip placing a gentle kiss in your forehead.

“ Yeah let me get the other necklace”

You scoop the other four necklace in your hand as you rise to follow Jimin out the bedroom door not even bothering to freshen up it could wait seeing it was the least of your problem.

Five minutes later you and Jimin descended the stone stairs only to see the rest of the guys gathered in from the massive oak door that lead to the forest outside already dressed and armed in different arrays of weapon. Taehyung and Jungkook by the foot of the stairs deep in some rock paper scissors game,  Hoseok and Seokjin a little to the left of them and Yoongi and Namjoon conversing over something on a portable map.

Their eyes all turned to as soon as you came into frame they probably heard you coming down the hallway vampire hearing was something out of this world. You almost falter at their heated gaze but you will yourself to smile you didn't want them knowing or seeing how worried you were the last thing they need right now is to be distracted by your feelings.

You reached the bottom of the stairs and Jungkook eyes narrowed on you. “Why do you look like you got ran over by a herd of squirrel y/n?”

You rolled your eyes at him just as Taehyung punch his arms,maybe he  was right you hair probably looked a mess and your face wasn't winning any competition right about now either but we all couldn't wake up looking as good as he did.

“Gee thanks kook” you said sarcastically as you reached the bottom.

“Pay him no mind baby you look absolutely ravishing” Taehyung said hotly as he wrapped you up in a small hug.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly “ I was only joking y/n”

You pulled away from Taehyung to look at him his doe eye pleading with you to understand but of course you knew he was teasing so you just smile at him.

“Or maybe it was her romp with Yoongi I swear the whole Manor was shaking when they were going at it ” Hoseok chuckled and you shot him a murderous glance heat spreading across your face. Your eyes met yoongi and he cast you a small smile before he turned his glare on Hoseok who seemed unfazed by the whole thing.

“Thank heavens they made up because I just about had enough of Yoongi complaining about what a stubborn-”

“Ok Jimin enough of that” Yoongi growled cutting of whatever beans was about to be spilled.

“Do go on Jimin I wanna hear this” you smirked.

Jimin looked between your curious gaze and Yoongi death stare then clamp his mouth shut apparently yoongi was more intimidating than you.

“Enough of this banter we got work to do” Namjoon ever the serious mood killer there to put everyone back in order.

You stepped forward “ I have something for you guys. It's a protective necklace it can protect you from the witches brain frying spell” you explained as you slipped the necklace over each of them,Jungkook and Hoseok followed by Yoongi and Namjoon.

“I know I couldn't go with you guys but I had to do something” you stare at them hands clasped together in front you.

They looked at you in awe overwhelmed by your need to protect them whatever way you can. They all offered their thanks in the form of gentle kisses kind words and shoulder squeeze.

“Keep each other safe out there” you said as Namjoon opened the door and the five of them slipped out into the early morning mist then disappeared from sight.

You shivered as a cold breeze blew through the front door and seem to surround you in it's chill.

“You're cold butterfly” Seokjin said as he took his jacket off and placed it around you didn't know you were still staring at where they had disappeared from your sight until the  door filled your vision once more from where Taehyung had closed it.

“ They will be ok” Seokjin reassured you but somehow you didn't believe that was true.

[do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them]

Til the End of the Night / Ch9: In which even weirder stuff happens in the forest

Previous / Masterpost / Next 

Summary:  Virgil is fully prepared to throw down with the local flora. Logan experiences a videogame tutorial level. Patton gets lost through, for once, no fault of his own.

Warnings: none

A/N: I feel bad for giving Virgil a hard time in these next few chapters but like, not bad enough to stop doing it lol

Read on AO3

Virgil came to in an unfamiliar part of the forest with an awful headache.  He shot to his feet as soon as he remembered what had happened.  He could move normally now, at least, but the sense of danger he felt only increased as he took in his surroundings.

Neither of his friends were anywhere to be seen, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be a good idea to try calling for them.  It shouldn’t be nighttime at this point, but it certainly seemed like it was.  The main difference was that instead of crickets and whatever making noise, there was a near-total eerie silence, save for the occasional rustling of leaves. The trees above him were simply so thick that almost no light reached the ground, not to mention bigger in every dimension than Virgil was entirely comfortable with a tree or anything else being.  He didn’t like being loomed over, even by plants.  The point was, he couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead with any clarity.  The air had an earthy, almost primeval scent, so strong it overwhelmed him at first, and it was strangely cold despite the fact that every day previous had been practically summery.  He suspected it was a result of the location, not the actual weather.  Wherever he was, it did not feel like a place he wanted to be.

He bent down to pull a silver-handled dagger out of its hiding place in his boot and walked forward slowly, doing his best not to step on anything loud.  It wasn’t just the trees that were thick.  With the amount of underbrush and weird roots sticking up around here, he’d almost believe the forest was actively trying to trip him.  He really, really hoped it wasn’t, but… you never know. Something touched the back of his neck and he whipped around ready to defend himself- it was only a vine hanging down from a branch, but he took a step away from it anyway.  He wasn’t going to trust anything around here, no matter how inanimate it may appear to be.

His footsteps crunched on the ground, obvious in the silence despite his best efforts.  The only thing louder was his heartbeat.  He had a growing certainty that he was being watched, though it had been fifteen minutes and he had yet to see another living creature, and put his hood up in an attempt to block out the feeling of eyes on him from behind.

The brush tangling at his feet grew steadily thicker and taller the further he walked, reaching almost to his hips.  Thorns tore at his clothes, and he thanked his past self for designing an outfit that covered all his skin.  Maybe this was a sign he was going the right way… or maybe it was a sign he was going the wrong way and was headed toward an even more dangerous area.  The thought that this area had yet to prove itself at all dangerous didn’t even cross his mind- he was too busy wondering what might be ahead.

He turned around, having second-guessed himself enough that he thought maybe he should just go back the way he’d come and try a less prickly direction, only to find that the way he’d come wasn’t… there anymore.  The growth behind him was now so thick he couldn’t force his way through it if he tried, and he feared that if he tried too hard he’d end up stuck and probably, like, die there or something.  Well… either he was going the right way after all, or it was too late now to escape the trap he’d walked into.  He turned back around, swallowing hard and shifting his grip on his dagger, and pushed on.

When Logan opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange cavern. A torch on the wall nearby cast flickering light and shadow on the area around him.  He stood and brushed himself off, and found his bag on the ground nearby. The contents didn’t appear to have been disturbed, which left the motives of whoever had put him here a complete enigma.  “Curiouser and curiouser,” he muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow.  The reference seemed fitting.

He wasn’t going to find out where he was or how he’d gotten there by standing around wondering about it.  He took the torch down, careful not to burn himself, and went to investigate the areas still hidden in darkness.  It turned out that he was in less of a cave and more of a decently sized room carved out of what may have started as a cave, in that the opposite side of the cavern featured the outline of a door.  However, there was no handle, and pushing on it did nothing.  Fortunately, it wasn’t the only thing on that side.

Something resembling a pipe ran along the floor, connecting the assumed door to a strange device several feet away.  Logan walked over and examined it, finding a convenient bracket to set the torch in on the wall nearby.  The device appeared rather simple, the only part of it he could interact with being a currently-useless switch, but the pipe leading up to it twisted around itself in knots and was covered in runes of a presumably magical nature.  He would have liked to take a picture of it, but his phone had long since run out of battery thanks to all the other things he’d wanted pictures of, so he settled for scribbling down as much of the writing as he could make out in one of his notebooks.

Just below the switch and at the end of the twisted pipe was a metal bowl.  The outside of the bowl had as much writing all over it as did the pipe itself.  The inside, however, was inscribed with only a single symbol, glowing a faint orange.  Even more of note was the pedestal next to the device, which held a baseball-sized metallic sphere and, beside it, a tool which resembled an expensive ballpoint pen from an alternate universe where pens are one solid piece with no recognizable ink and glow the same orange color as the symbol in that metal bowl.  There seemed to be a fairly obvious solution to try.  Logan picked up both items and carefully copied the symbol onto the sphere using the probably-magic writing instrument, painting it with that orange light, then placed it in the bowl.

As soon as the two metal objects touched, the writing on both changed from orange to blue and the room shook with a low grinding sound. Logan grabbed the pedestal for balance. When he looked up again, the door was open.  He smiled faintly, a bit pleased with himself for working out how to open it despite the fact that the solution had practically been handed to him.  Removing the metal ball from the mechanism caused the door to lower again, and he had no desire to be crushed by it, so he left the ball where it was, retrieved his torch and proceeded on to the next chamber. If his tentative theory on what sort of place he’d found himself in was correct, he would have no shortage of opportunities to test his puzzle-solving skills.

Patton yawned and rolled onto his back, blinking lazily against the warm sunlight that had woken him.  He should get up; his friends were probably waiting on him so they could finish their trip through the forest.  Where were his glasses?  Right, a few feet off to the side- Virgil had insisted on putting them a safe distance away so they wouldn’t get broken if he moved around in his sleep.  He always thought of everything.  Patton would be lost without him and Logan, both literally and metaphorically.

Speaking of Virgil and Logan, where had those two wandered off to?  When Patton sat up, he didn’t see them anywhere.  He shook his head at them even though they weren’t there to see it, clicking his tongue in mild disapproval.  Even if they did think he wouldn’t wake up before they came back, it would have been more considerate to leave him a note before going to find their bearings or whatever else they were doing.

“Oh well,” he said to himself, looking around at the clearing.  “I’ll just wait…”  If they were here, that’s what they would tell him to do.  They wouldn’t want him to get lost trying to find them.  He was sure they would come back soon, anyway, and until then, he had a nice comfy spot to sit against a tree and enjoy the lovely day he’d woken up to.

He sat and waited, and got bored and walked around the clearing for a bit looking for interesting plants, and sat back down in a different spot because he was overheating a little with the sun on him, and waited some more.  What on earth were his friends taking so long to do?  He really hoped they hadn’t gotten lost!  Maybe he should go look for them after all.  He took another look around, hoping there was some clue as to where they’d gone that he just missed when he first woke up, and… He frowned in confusion.

“Wait a minute…”

There had been a blanket on the ground when he’d fallen asleep, and now there wasn’t, which incidentally meant his hair was full of pine needles, but that wasn’t the important part right now.  He didn’t see how they could have gotten it out from under him and put it away without waking him up.  Also, come to think of it, why would they have left him alone and unsupervised when Virgil had previously insisted on holding his hand like he was a small child to make sure nothing happened to him?  And, and the trees, it had been kinda hard to see last night, but he was pretty sure the trees looked different than before!

“Uh-oh,” Patton whispered to himself.  “I don’t think this is the same clearing…”

He had no idea how it had happened, but he was in a different place now than he’d been last night. Maybe all the magic made him start sleepwalking?  ...And he’d somehow remembered to bring his glasses with him?  He hoped Logan and Virgil weren’t too worried about him, but knew they almost definitely were if he’d just up and vanished in the night before they could wake him for his turn on watch.

If they hadn’t found him by now, they probably had no idea where he was.  He didn’t have any way to contact them, either, his phone dead for reasons that definitely had nothing to do with playing Candy Crush because he got bored. The only other thing he could think of to do was just… start walking, and he’d get out of the forest eventually, and then meet back up with his friends when they got out.  They’d all walked for a long time yesterday, so it couldn’t be too much farther, right? (He ignored the fact that they may very well have gone in the complete opposite direction while running away from that… horrible giant murder-bug.  And also the fact that he had no idea which way was out now.)  He just needed to pick a direction.

“Uh…”  Everything around him looked pretty much the same.  It was all just… trees.  He closed his eyes and spun in a circle, only to make himself dizzy and trip over his own feet.  “Haha, whoops,” he laughed at himself.  He sat up and almost gasped when he saw the bit of forest he’d landed closest to.  He hadn’t noticed from the angle he’d been looking from before, but there was something of a natural path, lit by sunlight that filtered through the trees.  That had to lead somewhere!  He stood and brushed the dirt and pine needles off his cloak, feeling much more sure of himself.  “Well then, looks like I’m going that way!”

[whispersafterdusk]

In Your Hands - ch 2

"This place looks so different from when I was locked away."

They had been on the road for nearly two weeks now -- the walk from the mountains where Dimhollow Crypt was located was a long one, and avoiding main roads (to avoid people) coupled with having to also cross the marshes near Morthal had slowed them down considerably.  They were at last nearing the mountainous region where Solitude lorded over the surrounding lands and thankfully had gotten this far without trouble.

There were many times they had traveled in silence, as well as many times that Serana had voiced amazement at how much the world had changed.  She didn't speak much in general, but the more she spoke the more it occurred to him how...old she had to be.  And the more he realized her age, and how long she'd been locked away, the more -- he wouldn't call it a fear, really, more of a concern on how hungry she probably was at this point...and yet, she hadn't made any attempt to hurt him, or tried to steer them into a town or farmstead where people gathered, nor had she mentioned or even seemed concerned with being hungry.  He thought he should be suspicious about it, as though she were planning something he hadn't figured out yet, but really he was just...confused, and tried not to think about it overmuch. ((Continued below cut))

"What's so different?"

"I'm not really sure...it looks familiar, but at the same time very different.  It's hard to explain."

He grunted in acknowledgement; after that they'd walked in a comfortable silence until the sun was just beginning to set.  In the very far distance he could see the Blue Palace, and knew they would need to veer to the northwest to eventually reach the main road to get up and then over the mountain range that the city was built upon.

"Do you...know how long you might have been down there?"

"I...can't really tell.  I feel like it was a long time.  Who is Skyrim's high king?"

Ralsten chuckled and earned himself a questioning look from the woman.  "That's actually a matter of debate at the moment."

Her expression and tone went flat.  "Oh, wonderful.  A war of succession.   Good to know the world didn't get boring while I was gone.  Who's fighting over the throne?"

"Well, on one side you have Ulfric Stormcloak, jarl of Windhelm.  On the other is Elisif, widowed wife of High King Torygg."

"I've not heard of Ulfric, and you say Elisif is...  Are either of them particularly well supported?"

Ralsten blew out a sigh.  "Well, the Empire supports Elisif, but there's a lot of people across Skyrim who are loyal to Ulfric."

Serana slowly turned her head to him.  "Empire?  What...empire?"

Again, the absurdity of how old this woman had to be struck him, and he tried very hard not to laugh.  "The Empire.  From Cyrodiil."

"Cyrodiil is the seat of an empire?  I must have been gone longer than I thought. Definitely longer than anyone planned...  Please, let's hurry.  I need to get home so I can figure out what's happened."

He nodded, and gestured to the city near the top of the mountain and at the Blue Palace perched on the giant stone arch, both just barely visible through the trees they traveled under.  "That is Solitude there, and your island will be on the other side of that range.  We'll be over it by tomorrow afternoon."

Serana nodded, though she looked troubled and didn't speak much after that.

They walked until night fully fell, then made camp along the side of the road; aside from a single patrolling guard they saw no one and heard nothing more than the sounds of insects and wildlife as the wilds came alive around them, and Serana still did not speak as Ralsten laid out a horse hide blanket for them to sit on beside a small fire.

Much later, with the fire dying down, Ralsten finally broke the silence.  "We are heading to your family home...was it them who locked you away?"

Shifting uncomfortably she refused to meet his eyes.  "I'd...rather not get into that with you.  If that's all right.  I'm sorry, it's not that...  It's just, I don't know who I can trust yet.  Let's get to my home, and I'll have a better sense of where we all stand."

The wood elf nodded to her, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile.  "Fair enough.   What should I expect, when we reach there?"

"...I'm not really sure."

"Can you tell me nothing of your home?"

"I already mentioned it was on an island...and, thinking about it, hopefully we can find a boat to take us there.  It's not the most welcoming place, but depending on who's around I'll be safe there."

At that Ralsten straightened, looking at her in confusion.  "Safe?  Why wouldn't you be safe in your own home?  If your family is there..."

"Let's just say that my mother and father had a bit of a falling out.  Don't worry, I'm not in any actual danger from them or anything like that...it's just going to be unpleasant to run into my father.  We don't really get along -- ugh, saying that out loud makes it sound so...common.  A little girl who doesn't get along with her father -- tell me you haven't heard that story a hundred times."

He laughed quietly and prodded at the smoldering embers.  "Perhaps I have.  But, your story is still unique because it's yours and no one elses, no matter how similar it may seem to something you've read before."  

The look she'd given him was at first confused, then she'd smiled and looked to the stars, commenting on how she was grateful she could see them again.  Some of the tension had faded, and they began to idly chat about Skyrim - it's weather and seasons, what holds and regions still existed and soon Ralsten found himself explaining the war as well. After awhile, as their conversation fell away and the night grew deeper, his attention shifted from his ancient vampire companion to his current situation.

He felt that the Dawnguard would skin him alive for not killing her and taking the Elder Scroll she carried -- Isran seemed to be an honorable, intelligent man - definitely shrewd and strong to have survived this long hunting vampires - but while he seemed to present his cause as righteous, as a way to protect Skyrim's people, Ralsten suspected hatred drove the man more than anything else.  He could definitely see Isran wanting to kill Serana without fully exploring who she was, why she was locked away, and why she possessed an Elder scroll...on one hand he didn't want to believe the man could be that shortsighted, but on the other he really, really hated vampires and never missed an opportunity to remind others of that fact.

That Serana was...nervous about her father and couldn't tell him what to expect when they'd arrived at her family home was also of concern, and he wasn't certain how he could or should prepare for what they were walking in to.  And, being as they were going to an island, if it happened that he (or they) should need to quickly escape...unless they found someone willing to take them over and then wait there Ralsten expected they would be rowing a boat themselves and there was no quick means to cast off and get away from the shore if it was just them...or him.  Especially not if it was just him, in his heavy armor -- and that was assuming he could even reach the boat quickly enough.

So many unknown variables...it was starting to make him nervous himself.

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

The conversation with Harkon was a bit of a blur.  Ralsten remembered the introductions (and the striking, intimidating figure of Harkon himself) with a crystal clarity but it felt...rushed, in his mind.  Rushed and charged with an anxious energy, and with a relief that he'd made it out of there.

Granted, he'd only made it out of there because the Lord had banished him; it made his stomach clench as he remembered the hand raising, the spell hitting him, and then collapsing backward into the boat he and Serana had arrived on.  The Lord had, as a thanks for rescuing his daughter, given him the choice of becoming a vampire or walking out alive but after his refusal he'd declared that the wood elf was banished, and that had brought to mind nightmarish planes - the places that daedra walked, or were "banished" to when defeated - and he'd truly not known what to expect as the magic swallowed him up and then spat him back out elsewhere.

It was a relief to see the familiar sky of Skyrim over his head once the panic of the forced relocation had worn off and Ralsten had slowly rowed the way back to the mainland alone.

There were other minor details of the encounter that stood out more than others.  Harkon had boasted how he was one of the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim, and the wood elf had assumed it was to try and entice him to take the "reward" offered for Serana's safe return...and, he would be lying if he hadn't thought for a moment that such a reward would be forced on him, standing there in the great hall surrounded by Harkon's vampiric court.

And of course...that terrifying demonstration.  Part man, part...beast.  Bat.   Gargoyle?  Ralsten had no words for the form, only a memory of pallid skin stretched over muscle, dressed in gold and gems and with clawed hands, feet, and teeth that looked like they could tear right through his steel plate.

But...he'd made it out.  The Lord had kept his word and spared him this one time because he'd rescued his daughter.   Serana and the Elder Scroll she'd carried were both still within the castle, and Ralsten knew trying to reach either of them again would be suicide - he was left without Serana, and without answers.

The return journey to Fort Dawnguard was considerably more tense; Harkon had promised only to spare him then, that one time, and declared him prey afterward like any other mortal.  That an entire room of vampires had seen his face, and heard his name...Ralsten supposed he would need to be far more cautious, especially if Serana mentioned he was a member of the Dawnguard to any of them (if they hadn't considered him an important target then, they certainly would if they heard about THAT little detail).

It was past midnight, after a week of hard riding, when he found himself climbing the path to the fort; he'd made the trip unscathed and unbothered... But, he was not looking forward to reporting to Isran, and he'd planned to do so in the morning but found Isran pacing in the main foyer when he entered the fort.

"You.  You've returned.  So, any luck?  Was Tolan right about the vampires being interested in Dimhollow Crypt?"

Ralsten shouldered the heavy door shut, letting loose a sigh he felt originated somewhere near his toes before turning to face the man.  "Yes...the place was crawling with vampires.  Tolan was right, and he's dead - the vampires killed him.  He went in alone before I got there."

Isran pressed his lips into a thin line, irritation clear on his face.  "Damn fool, I told him not to go.  The Vigilants always had more bravery than sense...  Did you at least find out what they were looking for in there?"

Ralsten jerked his head to the side, nodding toward room off to the left - if he was going to be kept from bed filling Isran in right this moment then he was going to do it sitting down and out of his armor.  After a moment Isran nodded and stalked off that direction; Ralsten followed and moved to the far empty corner, beginning to peel his armor off and hang it on a rack hanging from pegs hammered into the stone wall.

"-they were looking for a woman that was sealed in the crypt," Ralsten went on, once he was down to just his boots and the padded cloth clothing he wore under the plate.  He dropped onto a stool; Isran remained standing, and began to pace.

"That doesn't make sense.  Where is this woman?  Who is she?"

The wood elf hesitated -- he knew he was mere seconds away from enraging the man.  "...I don't -"

"We were attacked while you were searching," Isran interrupted.  His tone was sharp and Ralsten looked up in surprise; the man continued to pace but it became more agitated, Isran himself looking ready to strike something - or someone - down.  "I should've known it was only a matter of time before they found us.  It's the price we pay for openly recruiting.  We'll have to step up our defenses, take measures to stop them, and to do that we need any and all information you found about this crypt, and that woman.  No delaying."

At that Isran directed an icy glare at the wood elf; Ralsten subtly leaned back on his stool, ready to move if the man moved toward him.  He'd expected Isran to be as direct and...well, sour as ever, but now knowing that he was wound up from an attack...

"The woman, she - she wanted to go home.  So I took her home.  To a castle on an island near Solitude."

"...and?"

"She's the daughter of a powerful vampire lord. The castle is where they're holed up."

Isran stopped and spun on a heel to face him.  "And you delivered her right to them?  Are you mad?"

Ralsten held up his hands, a guilty look creeping across his face.  "It's...it gets worse.  She had an Elder Scroll."

"What?  And you didn't stop her?  You didn't secure the scroll?"

"I'm lucky I made it out alive at all.  I...I took her there expecting to learn more of what was going on.  There was a castle, and I was taken into its hall, there were ten vampires there, along with the Lord Harkon.  There were simply too many of them and not enough of me to have done anything, Isran...I'm sorry.  And, Lord Harkon himself...he's a monster.  I don't think I could handle him on my own either."

Isran ground his teeth, spitting out "-so they have everything they wanted, and we're left with nothing."  After a moment he closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled slowly, his expression visibly relaxing some, then looked to Ralsten again.  "I suppose you ARE lucky you're not dead.  Or worse...one of them."

"He...tried, actually.  He offered me the chance to become a vampire - to join him.  I obviously said no," Ralsten added quickly as Isran's expression hardened again.  "When I said no he magically threw me out of the castle, and I got out of there."

Isran nodded then rubbed a hand over his face and beard, going back to pacing.  "By the Divines, this couldn't get much worse.  This is more than you and I, or anyone else left here, can handle.  We're going to need help.  If they're already bold enough to attack us here then this may be bigger than I thought.  I have good men here, but...  There are people I've met and worked with over the years.  We'll need their skills, their talents, if we're going to survive this.  If you can find them, we might have a chance."

Ralsten inwardly groaned - he'd been hoping to get at least one full night's sleep before being shoved out the door again.  "All right...who am I looking for?"

That earned him a begrudging chuckle from the man.  "Right to the point, aren't you.  I like that."  His expression hardened briefly.  "Not like those fools in the order..."  Isran sighed again, suddenly looking older than his years.  "We should keep it small.  Too many people and we'll draw unwanted attention to ourselves...moreso than we have already, that is.  I've two in mind.  I need you to find Sorine Jurard - Breton girl, whip-smart and good with tinkering - fascination with Dwemer, weapons in particular.  Last I knew she was out in the Reach, convinced she was about to find the biggest dwarven ruin yet."

Nodding wearily Ralsten reached for his bag, rooting around until he pulled out a tightly rolled handful of maps, held closed with a simple leather tie.   He sorted through them as Isran watched, rubbing at his eyes.  "The Reach...you can't be more specific?"  Isran merely shook his head, and Ralsten inwardly groaned again.  

The Reach was a fairly sizeable stretch of land; if she was studying dwemer ruins that narrowed it down only slightly.  Maybe someone in Markarth would know of her...but having to search through so much land seemed rather daunting.  And that was IF she was above ground -- dwemer ruins were, for the most part, underground.  If she was wandering about in one of those there was no telling how long it'd take to find her.

"And the other?"

"His name is Gunmar.  Big brute of a Nord, hates vampires almost as much as I do.  Got it into his head years back that his experience with animals would help - trolls in particular, from what I hear.  Last I heard of him he was out scouring Skyrim for more beasts to tame.  Bring the two of them back here and we can get started on coming up with a plan."

It took all of his strength not to throttle the man.  A woman somewhere in the Reach and a man somewhere out in the whole of Skyrim?  How did Isran expect him to possibly find these people?

"All right.  I'll head out in the morning," Ralsten finally muttered as he pushed himself from his stool and staggered toward one of the hide-lined cots pushed up against the wall.

"Sleep is for the weak, elf."

"I'd argue sleep is what keeps me from becoming weak.  I am exhausted and I'd make nothing but an easy target."  He perched on the edge of the cot and met Isran's disapproving gaze without flinching.  "I will leave in the morning," he repeated, speaking slowly and firmly.

Isran grunted - Ralsten wasn't sure if it was a sign of Isran seeing sense or merely too frustrated to argue - and left.  He waited until the other man's footsteps had grown too faint to hear, then dragged his feet up into the cot he sat on and stretched out.  It was dusty and smelled of mildew but he was too tired to truly care.

[the-scenic-route-stories]

The Ace of Hearts, Part 7

Next section. This was really hard to write and I’m not 100% happy with it but I do feel I’ve gained some empathy for people I previously thought of as ‘forward’ or ‘brash’ in a relationship context.

He needed very little sleep. On one of the first mornings, or whatever passed for mornings on the TARDIS, she awoke to find him sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her with bemused devotion.

“You haven’t been here long, have you?”

“Ummm…” he looked down at his hands, blushing. “Does it bother you? I’m so sorry. I wanted to be here when you woke up to wish you good morning. Rather self-indulgent of me. Perhaps you’d prefer a little more privacy.”

“Oh no, don’t be sorry, it’s just that it’s a very long time since anyone watched over me. It’s a little overwhelming, but in a very nice way.”

He said nothing, but most days when she woke he was there waiting for her.

One morning, instead, he was sitting in his dressing-gown in the chair by the bed, wearing his half-moon spectacles. He turned the pages of an old book gently, taking great care not to make a noise loud enough to wake her. There were piles of books on either side of him.

She watched him through half-closed eyes, not wanting him to see that she was awake, enjoying the peaceful tableau of him reading his book, long fingers curled around its spine. She wished she could etch this picture into her memory - her beloved, deep in concentration.

Finally, he noticed her watching him.

“Good morning, my dear. Have you been awake long? I was absorbed by my reading, I’m afraid.”

“And what was it that you were so fascinated by?”

“I have been making a comprehensive survey of the romantic literature in the TARDIS library. Love-poetry, romance novels and the like.”

“Lord Byron, Keats and so on?”

“Inter alia. You humans can be so very parochial. You do realise that there has been love-poetry written on planets other than Earth, even in countries other than England? On one planet, there is a race of highly self-organised slime moulds that have produced some remarkably moving romantic poetry. Of course, since they communicate with one another through viscous secretions rather than words, a certain something is lost in translation.”

“May I ask why you have developed this interest?”

“Am I not allowed simply to be interested in literature for its own sake?” he asked with feigned pomposity. “Actually, I am trying to gain a better understanding of romantic love in human beings. For, umm, purely academic purposes, naturally.”

“Naturally.” He didn’t fool her at all, probably because he didn’t really want to.

“According to these novels that were published around the time-period you came from,” he indicated a pile of books, the topmost of which showed a square-jawed man in a fedora and trenchcoat and a surprised-looking woman in a silky dress that appeared to be in the process of slipping off her shoulder, possibly on the way to slipping off the rest of her, “I should perhaps be attempting to, er, seduce you. The procedure by which I might achieve this is still not entirely clear to me, and I don’t think I look very much like this fellow here.”

“Darling. Those books are complete tosh. Ridiculous women swooning over pirates and spies. I don’t know who reads them. Bored housewives, perhaps. You’re far better-looking than that fellow on the cover, and a perfect gentleman too. You’ve whisked me away in your spaceship, taken me to the most beautiful places, danced with me among the stars. Now you’ve sat up all night reading love-poetry and pulp novels in an attempt to understand how to romance me. All while wearing a very fetching dressing-gown. I think you could safely consider me seduced.”

“I was thinking I should be doing something more to romance you, as you say.”

“You don’t have to do anything unless you wish to. I am already desperately in love with you and grateful for every moment we spend together. But...”

“Yes?”

She climbed onto his lap. “Perhaps I could try to seduce or romance you.”

He laughed nervously. “And what would that involve?”

She lifted his spectacles off his face and put them onto her own, looking at him sternly over the top of them. “Hmmm, I suggest we begin with a thorough investigation of the phenomenon of attraction. I think we will start with a consideration of the fact that you do not appear to be wearing your pyjama top under that dressing-gown.”

“It was… rather warm…”

“Leaving it off wasn’t part of your seduction strategy, then?”

“No. I do not have a seduction strategy, as you put it.” He tried to sound indignant.

She traced the tips of her fingers along his collarbones then leaned down to place a row of kisses along them. So many sensations: the silky folds of his gown and its rich colour, his soft skin with its scent and taste of old books and tea, sunshine through windows, fading roses and blue-white stars and distances, the lights and shadows falling on his face, neck and shoulders, the sound of his breathing and of two hearts beginning to race a little...

“You don’t need to do all this, really. I find you very attractive. Very attractive indeed. We could perhaps take it as understood that you’ve already managed to seduce me, whatever that entails, and - oh!” She had kissed him softly in the tender hollow where his neck met his collarbone and his heartbeats fluttered.

“Am I disturbing your mental equilibrium?” she asked, with mischievous triumph.

“To a quite alarming degree.”

“Do you want me to disturb it some more?”

He looked at her sadly, unable and unwilling to admit that yes, that was indeed precisely what he wanted her to do. Galaxies collided, empires waged war, despots raged, time and space swirled and folded and buckled and in comparison to this, it was entirely inconsequential whether or not a pretty girl kissed him in ways that made him feel deliciously giddy. He should not distract himself from matters of greater import by indulging such tiny, trivial whims and desires. He had already taken the unaccustomed step of bringing Betty on holiday - purely to make the dear girl happy, of course, rather than out of any self-interest - but such things could be the first step on a slippery slope towards wanton hedonism, and there was already far too much of that in the universe as it was. Oh, but if she did kiss him like that again (and again, and again), if she kissed him without asking him any of those inconvenient questions that he felt obliged to answer in the negative, if she kissed him until he felt so very giddy that he no longer remembered with any clarity what those questions were...

She looked at him sadly, seeing the troubled expression on his face. She didn’t pretend to understand half of what went on in his complicated, clever mind. He was always so sweet and so solicitous, but of course he did not need her and she could not wish for him to do so. She longed for him to let her love him and delight in indulging even his tiniest and most trivial whims and wishes - if indeed he had such - but she seemed to be no match for his self-control. Only once had she felt that control falter, but since then, he had seemed determined to protect her from the deeper, sadder parts of himself.

She kissed him on the cheek in a businesslike manner then got up off his lap and started leafing through some of the books.

He stood up too. "How about a nice cup of tea?" He turned and headed for the door, but felt his arms pinned to his sides and her arms tight around his waist.

“Mmmff! What’s this?”

“You did say that you wanted me to let you escape then catch you again…”

“Oh, I did, didn’t I?”

“Well, I’ve caught you.”

So you have. It appears that I am entirely at your mercy, my dear,” he said in a tone that suggested that he did not find this development wholly uncongenial.