#and trying to correct it makes me light headed in the 'might cause a headache' way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiliinstinct · 5 months

Text

Chapter 31

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] Happy Birthday to me! Here’s an Update! Remember to thank @phoenix-before-the-flame for their Beta work! May Update: 17th See This Post For News About Future Updates

Levy squinted through her reading glasses at the paper she worked on, fighting off the beginning of a headache. The soft flickering of candle light was too bright for her tired eyes. If she kept at it, the small headache would blossom into a migraine, but she stubbornly continued her work. There was simply too much for her to do and not enough time to do it in, especially now.

Her beautiful archive was still a hazard to traverse. It was covered in precarious stacks of books and tomes, piled higher than her head in tight, winding walkways. All thanks to the story she painstakingly searched for in an excited haze. That same story still rested atop one of the covered tables, tightly bounded and shielded by charms and protective spells. It was a mess she needed to fix, but hadn't had the time to attempt in weeks.

But she itched to return to her safe haven— to tuck herself into the comfort of her well filled den, longing to rest and reorganize in peace. Unfortunately, she was bound to her duties set upon her shoulders by Makarov. Noticing a small mistake in her writing, she resumed her work, quietly chastising herself as the quill moved across the paper with a quick correction.

Levy couldn’t afford to mess this up as it was another enhancement spell to help bolster one of Freed’s many barriers.

She'd been at this for four days; Kage's cell was more than fortified now. He had yet to try anything. Levy doubted he had the strength to attempt his barrier breaking stunt with her and Freed’s current adjustments, but it was a risk the rune mages weren’t willing to take. They made certain that no loophole or crack could be found, tightly interweaving their codes in a cycle to keep the incarcerated Roma’s abilities useless. The strain this caused on Levy’s mind and magic was immense, making her feel stretched to the ends of her very being, but she couldn’t rest. It didn’t feel right to back down while her partner remained diligent in his duties.

The small Romni was no stranger to the pinpricks of jealousy that occasionally stabbed at her, but watching the smooth actions of Freed from his corner — scarcely taking breaks and working through his written codes at a steady pace— was a sight to behold. It outshined her best efforts despite him still in recovery. She gnawed her bottom lip as envy swelled in her chest like a rising tide, only to be quashed down beneath her guilt. His stamina was something to be envied and she would do all she could to match it.

Their magics were similar and possibly branched off from the same family. She knew if she dug deeper she might find greater connections, but a part of her didn’t want to find out. Not when he outclassed her by such a wide margin.

Refocusing her attention, Levy pushed the errant thoughts aside. There were more important things to focus on: like the new barriers she was working on.

Kage’s original containment was a matter of the past after the explosion of rage Natsu had caused two days prior. Levy and the others were lucky enough to get out with hardly a singe to their clothes. Everything else had been consumed by the black flames. The intense heat had burst through the windows, shattered stone walls and twisted angrily towards the sky. So large was the blast, it cast a darkness upon the northern sector of the villain that seemed to devour the sun itself.

The villagers were sent into a frenzy, reminded of the previous chaos that had ruined the festival. It was natural for the guards along the border and many of the denizens inside to take up arms and amass themselves to the keep, prepared for a battle against any enemy they’d come across.

But there was no invasion. There was only a decimated keep and a wounded Makarov. The Chief met the horrified crowd, remaining tight-lipped as they pressed him for answers. He’d sworn Lisanna, Levy and Freed to secrecy before the crowd crashed upon them. It was a promise that made tears brim in her eyes but Levy still followed it to the letter. She was a witness to Natsu’s meltdown and the situation was greater than she could imagine. It wasn’t ideal, but she understood why Makarov chose to keep the information quiet for the time being.

Another tick of her quill against parchment and Levy sighed. These calculations were almost complete and she resisted the urge to yawn, having gone without a full night of rest the day before.

”Perhaps a break?“ Freed suggested softly from his corner, eyes lifting from his own line of work to peer at her exhausted form, ”I can handle the rest if needed.“

Shaking her head wildly, she dismissed the gesture, ”And let the man who’s still recovering finish up all my work? No way. The only way I'm taking a break right now is if you take one with me.”

The green-haired rune caster blinked owlishly at the response, lips quirking up after a few seconds of consideration. ”Fair enough, my hand was starting to cramp a bit.” He twirled his quill deftly between his fingers before setting it aside in its inkwell. He shook out his hands and eyed her expectantly. She noticed a rare gleam of mischief twinkling in their depths. “Well? Aren’t you going to set yours down?“

Wait, Levy flushed, she had intended for him to leave her be as they continued work, not take her up on her bluff!

”But-“

“Quill. Down. Please.”

Her expression soured, but she relented, drying the tip to set it aside as she idly mirrored him, shaking free the cramps that had settled in her wrists. Not only did it help bring feeling back to the tips of her fingers, it defused the nervous energy still rattling in her bones.

How was she supposed to take a break where there was still so much to do?

One of the barriers — the one surrounding Natsu’s hut— had yet to be finished. Its new codes were mixed in the messy stack of charms to her left. (Or was it on her right? She wondered.) They waited patiently for Levy to review and refine them before joining Freed to set them back in place.

Before that, though, they needed to ensure Natsu could remain in control; Enough to trust him in his quarters. It was a shock to see the last one completely burned away, as if it had never been there to begin with. If he had another outburst like the one at the keep, neither she nor Freed could assure a new one would hold.

Natsu’s home, the keep itself and new cells for their current prisoner. So many enchantments to make as soon as possible.

Then there was her own home: That cluttered, blissful archive she so desperately wanted to dive into. It would be her safe haven from this confusion, her escape from the world to the quiet monotony of cleaning to clear her mind and prepare for Summer. She could enlist help, maybe. Anything to distract herself from the current events weighing on her mind.

And Jet and Droy, her closest companions. Levy bit back an exhausted groan. She’d skipped dinner with them for three days now. While they understood she was busy, Levy still felt awful about it.

“If you're that restless,” Freed’s amused chuckle dragged her from her mind. His stretches were long finished as he now propped his chin on one hand, watching her patiently. “You could talk to me, you know. We are clansmen after all.”

Heat blossomed down her neck in embarrassment and she folded her arms, effectively hiding her face, “Is my thinking that obvious?”

“Only just a little, but it's fine. There is a lot happening. It’s natural to be thrown off by it all.”

Levy respected his calm temperament as it was a welcome balm to her frazzled brain. Her shoulders sagged as she sank further into her chair, burying her face deeper into the crook of her arms.

“I just don't understand what's happening,” she admitted quietly, voice muffled, “Natsu’s always been wild but he’s never gotten any of us hurt. I’ve seen his black fire before, when we were kids, but never like this. But the Chief –” She sucked in a tumultuous breath, eyes stinging, “It’s been day’s and his wounds don’t seem to be doing much better under Porlyusica’s care. I heard Lucy healed slowly, too, but somehow- Makarov looks… so much worse.”

Pausing mid-rant, she peeked her eyes upward over the curve of her arm, looking for reassurance from Freed. He was quiet, but his gaze never left her, listening to her every word. Despite their possibly distant blood relation, Levy had never sat down and just spoken with him for more than a few minutes at a time since he'd joined. She was on uneven ground, uncertain how he’d react, but realizing he intended to let her unload was as welcome as it was surprising.

How had Laxus of all people befriended such a guy? She'd question it later, if she ever had the time; Or if the nosy need for information gave her the courage to ask, whichever came first. Clearing her throat, Levy let herself sink even further into her bones, secretly enjoying their little break.

“And then there's the new guys that I can't figure out at all….”

Levy removed her reading glasses with a swipe of her hand, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She recalled seeing Lucy sprinting towards them as she was first pulled from the broken keep. Pale from worry and fright, Levy had been too busy assuring through her own daze to take notice of the man beside the blonde. He had watched, wide-eyed and slack jawed as Lucy and Erza both sought to help the others.

“The Erza knows, Jellal I think? He seems alright. And I think that he has some relation to Lucy which I hope is a sign that he isn’t trouble but…”

Here she paused, thinking back to the other two. She never cared for Kage, knowing that he was hunting Lucy was enough to distrust him. After the damage he caused, she had the quiet, bitter thought that she'd prefer him rotting in his cell over anything else.

This wasn't a thought she felt should be shared. But that left her with...

“That other one. Gajeel, was it? The Draconis. There’s something off about him. He feels dangerous even when he's not moving. Like something is just crawling up my back preparing to strike from behind. It's so uncomfortable and yet here we are, locking Natsu up while he's practically roaming the halls freely now-“

She had to stop again, sucking in a quick breath after realizing she hadn't breathed once during her rant. Peering back to Freed, she worried her lip between her teeth until it felt raw.

None of it felt right to her. That's what she wanted to say, what stuck to the tip of her tongue and refused to fall.

The fallout had been ugly. Struggling to stay on his feet, Makarov made Natsu his first priority. He doled out orders through seething teeth, Lisanna was sent out to manage the crowd racing up to them while Free and Levy carried Natsu to one of the many rooms that were still intact. It was all such a rush and Levy had moved on reflex more than anything else in those terrifying moments.

“Keep him contained,” Makarov had said, “whatever spells you have, use them to keep him in before heading outside. And no matter what, speak not a word of what has transpired here to anyone. Now go!”

They scurried off as fast as they could, leaving their chief behind as he breathed heavily and fought the pain lacing through his body. Levy caught a glimpse of Gajeel as they passed. He hadn’t moved an inch, not since knocking the fire draconis out and gone was his earlier cocksure attitude. His expression was impassive, blank, even as the chief spun to him with a hiss of orders Levy failed to catch.

When she finally returned outside, she didn’t have a chance to breathe or help poor Lisanna who still struggled with the frenzied crowd. Instead, Lucy had come upon her, begging for answers she was sworn to hide. The strange man, Jellal, was still by her side, but neither he nor Erza pressed her for answers. Instead, they watched the crowd and waited for Makarov.

It was only when he emerged from the ruined keep, aided by Freed, that the crowd stilled in abject horror. It was rare for the Fairies to be so shocked to silence, but no one dared speak over the Chief’s shaky voice that once boomed across the crowd. Now it struggled to carry to one person.

His words held no substance. They were carefully chosen, hiding the truth behind a carefully constructed lie. His assurances were empty to the disbelieving crowd who any other time would shout back in defiance, demanding better answers. They couldn’t then, not when their leader, a man many saw as their own parent, was barely able to stand.

A few brave members had run off to fetch Porlyusica but many still lingered when the crowd dispersed. Their eyes observed what was left of their ancient keep, horrified.

Fires still burned along the walls, but the embers slowly faded along with the smoke in slow ebbs and curls. Natsu was someone who normally would stand front and center at such a scene, demanding answers and sniffing out his own, but he was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t hard for the remaining crowd to piece together that their favorite Draconis was involved.

Levy remembered the way the blood had drained from Lucy's face as she caught Makarov on his way back inside. There were tears in her eyes as she demanded to see Natsu, only to be denied. Jellal had stepped in, requesting an audience as soon as possible with the surprising request that Lucy be allowed to see the other, but it too had been denied.

Something was going on, and no one had all the information to piece it all together. Whatever secrets this Gajeel and Jellal had, it pricked the back of Levy's mind and wouldn't let her go.

“... why hasn't Makarov told us anything?” She bemoaned, finally getting to the meat of the matter, “everyones being so secretive and vague and I just... I want everyone to relax again, is that so bad?”

She realized then that tears trailed down her face as tiny hiccups shook her frame. All her emotions were boiling over and she desperately wanted to grasp her quill to get back to work. Anything to stave off the helpless feeling weighing her down.

But Freed remained still, his expression twisted to a somber, sympathetic stare. He reached across the table to grasp her hand and squeezed, voice lowering to a quiet whisper between the two of them.

“You're not alone,” He assured her, while strands of his long hair fell to cover his face, “I feel the same. We all do. This, I'm certain.”

A shudder passed through her, one that dispersed the heavy weight holding her down. Levy returned the squeeze and allowed a tremulous smile to pass her face. “Thank you. That... that helps.”

Perhaps they really did need that break after all, she looked back to her work and shook her head. “... I spent a lot of time ranting there, is there anything you need to get off your chest? A bit unfair to just have you counsel me, after all.”

He withdrew his hand with a kind shake of his head, “No, you've pretty much covered all of my present thoughts as well.” When her eyes narrowed he waved a hand in the air and laughed, “I mean it, I swear. What other issues I might have are things that can't be solved through airing it out.”

Levy snapped her fingers and pointed, ”ah, but that means there IS something.“

She laughed at his expression, mouth slightly agape as he brushed the hair from his face, laughing, ”Stubborn. All of you. My own concerns come from my previous failures with Kage and worrying about my comrades, there's nothing deeper than that, I assure you.“

”... but no one could predict Kage had the ability to hack barriers with his magic,“ She recalled, nose scrunching as if she'd smelled something foul. ”Nope, permission denied. You're not allowed to feel guilty for that.“

”E-excuse me?“ Freed asked, baffled.

She nodded, picking up her quill to spin it between her fingers. When it stopped spinning, she aimed its tip at his befuddled face. ”You heard me. You're already a genius as it is, and you’re out pacing me with the rune magic even though you’re still not at full strength.” She cut off his denial with a sharp wave.

“It’s only been a few weeks, no one recovers from magic drainage that quickly. It was something out of all our hands. Blaming yourself for it is silly. Therefore,” She beamed,”No self blaming is allowed.”

They both looked to the other in a silent battle of wills as he attempted to find any weakness in her expression. Levy gave him none, confidently dipping her quill back into the ink well as her attention stayed in place, stubbornly matching his own. As the candles nearby flickered and melted just a bit more, he laughed and shook his head.

”All right all right. I suppose you win,“ He conceded, pushing back the stray locks that had fallen into his face.

Levy cheered, ”Good! Now let's get back to work.“ Without a second though, she began to write once again, only to blink in stunned silence when the parchment beneath her fingers was whisked away, ”H-hey! Wait just a minute-“

Freed set it carefully atop the nearest stack and swiped the quill out of her fingers. She watched, dumbfounded, as he grabbed her spare hair tie, twisting his own hair into a high ponytail and stood in one fluid motion.

”I do believe,“ He said, lips curved smugly, ”I said we should be taking a break and we've hardly relaxed at all, have we?“

He extended a polite hand for her to take, ”Come now, we're due for a walk.“

”But we-“

His eyes narrowed, ”Levy.“

He didn't need to repeat himself as she took his hand and quickly followed him out of the room.

“You can be really pushy sometimes, you know?”

“Only sometimes?” He mused, locking the door as they went. “ Perhaps I ought to try harder then.”

While the two walked outside for well needed fresh air, the Keep was filled with an uncertain tension. Kage, now sitting in a partially busted Cell, stared hopelessly at the cracked ceiling and debris littering the room. He listened to the strong buzz of the newly enacted barrier, sizzling with magic and sighed. Days blended together with his time in the dark, but he still felt the trembling of the Earth that had pulled him from restless dreams days ago.

What was happening up there with Gajeel? Was there an attack or some other plan afoot? Anxious thoughts floated in his mind, shaking his bandaged legs while nervous eyes flitted from each broken stone in the once closed dungeon.

And far above Kage, paced a fire breathing Draconis. His own binding spells had dissipated a day ago, allowing him free movement in the room. The irony was not lost on him. This was just like his house, wounded and stuck. Now, with his wounds mostly healed, he was more prisoner than patient. He could smell Freed’s magic, but didn’t bother with testing the fresh runes buzzing along the door and windows.

They were right to keep him contained. While his muscles ached with the need to stretch and run, Natsu saw no reason to leave. So he paced. Back and forth with footprints burning into the floor as he waited for any kind of news.

He was far from the only restless person, dying for answers. Down below, ducking into shadows, as Lucy, quickly making her way towards the destruction with tenacity leading the way. She was going to find answers, whether the others wanted her to have them or not.

It didn’t take much consideration over her dinner to make this decision. She was resolute in her desires while she slinked off without notice. Circling through the village, she dared to pass by Natsu’s home, hoping that her suspicions to his current whereabouts would be proven wrong. Unfortunately, that hope was dashed in light of his empty house, urging her onward to the keep.

Along the way, she spied Freed and Levy walking by, too deep in amicable conversation to notice her as she ducked inside an open door.

Down the first floors, unbeknownst to anyone Lucy poked her head inside, checking the messy unkempt halls with a scrunched nose as she considered her trajectory before tip-toeing her way towards a set of stairs

Further inside, far from Lucy, laid Makarov, unmoving as he rested on a round chair full of feathered pillows, his body freshly cleaned and rebandaged by Porylusica who'd rushed from her home to sit by his side, worrying over him like an angered hen. She clicked her tongue and shuffled around to ensure his leg was held up, muttering curses beneath her breath as she did.

“I can't believe you let yourself get injured like this,” she spat, taking a drink of water to cool herself down, “Not just the leg, but your hips and torso at that. You’re lucky you can move.”

Makarov wriggled his nose and grumbled, “I appreciate your faith in my abilities, Porly, but this is not something I wanted.”

“You expect me to believe that brat caught you off guard? Truly?”

“Did you not see the damage done to the keep, woman?! It’s a miracle I'm still standing!” He snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose in consternation, “It was all Freed and I could do to hold him back and ensure the others weren't injured.”

Sucking in a deep breath, he motioned for her to sit down. “I'm sorry, but until I've finished with what needs to be done, I have to ask that you stay here awhile. Wendy can't be expected to keep a constant eye on me after all, and I would hate to put her through so much stress.”

Porlyusica rolled her eyes. “And what- I can? I’m not your personal nurse.”

“Certainly not. But I'd like to think of it as keeping your medical skills sharp in your old age.”

At the old womans scoff, he gave her a curious look, but no other words passed between them. She'd been a part of the Fairies for quite some time, long enough to have aged right by Makarov's side. He'd seen her long before she willfully locked herself away on a hill just as she'd seen him in his youth. In all things she was his closest confidant, but her ire over injuries left much to be desired. Not to mention her bedside manner that seemed to have worsened ...

As if sensing his wayward thoughts, Porlyusica sent him a terrifying glare that left the old Chief swallowing thickly and looking anywhere but her. Which was perfect as he had other things to focus on after all; and one of those things stood at the entrance to the meeting room- Makarov's current place of residence far from his office - , waiting with arms crossed and a food tapping impatiently.

“Ah, Laxus,” Makarov greeted, “Right on time. I trust the others are with you?”

His grandson nodded, kicking open the door behind him so others could file inside. Jellal and Gajeel came first, with one wearing a bemused expression as he examined the room before settling on the Chief whilethe draconis looked too relaxed as he strolled in. Raising a brow at Laxus, he snorted as he sauntered past. The two claimed a seat side by side at the table.

Erza brought up the rear, sharing a nod with Laxus who stayed by the door, watching her and the others take their seats. She pointedly set her seat between the men and Chief and settled down with an intense gaze. Her eyes were sharp and focused as were Laxus’, whose gaze burned holes into the backs of the stranger’s heads.

The old chief felt a swell of pride watching them. While they were on their best behavior, and Erza adamantly affirmed her trust in the celestial man, she still kept to her duty, prepared to fight at a moment's notice. Likewise, Laxus managed to curb his own temper, listening in rather than reacting on impulse.

Yes, most of his children had grown well, now if only he could get to the bottom of everything else happening around him. That would be nice.

“Considering Gajeel has done as I asked and not riled Natsu up any more than he has,” Makarov pointedly started, casting a glare at the bulky draconis who shrugged non committedly, “It seems pertinent to have our meeting now that everything has calmed down. Now both of you, I want no vague mysteries, no secrets, no lies. If either of you want to realize your separate goals, then I'll need absolute transparency. Am I clear?”

There was no true power in Makarovs words. With Gajeel and Jellal being outsiders, they weren’t beholden to listen if they chose not to. But they were still in his territory, and he was still at the head of this clan for a reason. His wounds did not leave him frail and vulnerable as much as others would believe and the power that flared from his body at his question was testament to that fact. It shook the floor and made the table quake, vibrating down the halls in warning.

Jellal and Gajeel felt it, instantly stiffening as they looked between each other and him. The others, unsurprised by the strength of their leader, merely looked on, waiting for the time to spill their own thoughts. What those opinions could be entirely depended on what Makarov was soon to learn this very day.

“Well?” He prompted. Gajeel grunted, far less amused today than he'd been when riling Natsu. Jellal, however, cleared his throat and nodded.

“I’ve no secrets to hide ,” He admitted, glancing back at Erza, “She has been my friend for many years and I would be a poor one in turn if I continued to rouse your suspicions.”

“Pretty words,” Makarov said, “let's see if you can back them: you may go first. What is it that you wanted to speak with me about that's so important?”

It was then, Gajeel chose to interject, lips sneering as he grumbled, “First you gotta understand, old man, he ain’t got anything to do with my clan.”

“I'm sure he can answer for himself. You've done enough damage.” Was Makarov's snapping rejoinder, gaze bearing down on Jellal in interest, ”Besides, I'm already aware he was incarcerated by Jose. Erza's more thorough than you give her credit for.“

If Jellal was surprised to know Erza had already told the chief what she knew, he didn't show it. Instead he cleared his throat and withdrew the book he'd been reading from his sleeve, ignoring the raised eyebrow Gajeel gave in the process.

”This may offer a few answers in regards to Lucy.“ He began. He offered the book to Erza, who set it before Makarov. ”I don't know how this came into Gajeel’s possession, but I assume he took it from Jose. It holds everything you need to know about why the Phantom Clan has been apprehending or killing any Celestial Roma they can get their hands on. It’s my belief that their search would end if they were to ever get their hands on her.“

The iron draconis whistled lowly, ”Gihee, so ya got your confirmation then? Ya sure it's wise to say that with me here?”

”Considering you set me free,“ Jellal pressed on, not bothering to look Gajeel in the eye, ”I doubt you have any plans to send her Jose’s way. So I'm choosing to take this risk and believe that those here would defend her if you choose to prove me wrong.“

When he didn't reply, Jellal continued, watching as Porlyusica snatched the book from the table and handed it to Makarov unceremoniously.

It held an unexpected weight as he turned it over with mild disgust in his tired eyes. The cover was covered in a high, cracked with age, and yellowed bones lined the book’s spine. He held it gingerly as the aged leather felt different from any leather he’d seen before. At Jellal’s beckoning, he eased it open, spying the unusually thick pages falling open with a heavy slap.

”There is a ritual,“ Jellal explained. ”One that states it can imbue entire groups of people with unparalleled heavenly power. It is said to give all who participate longevity and magical strength far beyond our imagination. I can't attest for how accurate this supposed ritual is, but Jose believes in it enough to have scoured the lands for what it requires. He has gathered everything needed so far. But it’s all useless without the key to bring the ritual to fruition. That being the right Celestial to sacrifice.“

Erza leapt to her feet in protest as Laxus stepped away from the door with venom in his eyes. They were furious at the implication this meant for Lucy. Even Porlyusica’s expression soured.

Before they could form a question or demand more answers, Makarov lifted his hand, urging them to fall quiet.

“And what, pray tell," he said, voice quivering in a quiet rage, "makes you believe that our Lucy is the celestial that Jose truly requires?"

Jellal fell silent, considering his words as he folded his hands within his sleeves. He sported a calm facade within the quiet room as they waited. Away from their eyes he gripped his arms tightly, tight enough for the knuckles to turn white.

How best could he word this truth he'd been hiding from Lucy the moment he knew she could hear the stars with little effort?

”My clan and its sister branches all share the same legends and culture,“ he murmured, voice a low drawl, ”and with it came the knowledge passed down through generations that one of our clans would someday give birth to the original starseeker:The origin of our clans. It is my belief that Lucy is this origin and her clan realized this. Our travels north were merely in a bid to bring her to safety before others learned of her existence and sought her out.“

He withdrew his hands from his sleeves and held them aloft. His fingertips were glowing with a soft energy, calming pinpricks of light that grew to shape themselves into a star system resting within his palms. He stared intently at its depths. It didn’t match the skies above but swirled lazily as he pondered it with a furrowed brow.

Erza broke the silence before anyone else, voice harsher than intended, “And what is so important about this origin?”

“The importance, my dear Erza,“ He said gravely, ”Is that she is most likely the spiritual embodiment of the Moon itself.“

The room became deathly silent before erupting into tense shouts. Porlyusica had to grasp Makarov's shoulder to keep him from jumping from his seat, her grip so tight the elder chief paled and coughed into his hand.

Erza recounted the story of Lucy's clan in her mind. While she had not been with the camp when Lucy originally spoke of it, Levy's transcription was expertly done and easy to read. She remembered perusing it, feeling as if there was something there to explain Natsu's odd fascination with the girl, only to be mystified when she found nothing.

But this? She whirled on Jellal, eyes blazing fiercely, “You must truly be mad to give us this information while a man of Phantom sits beside us!” Before he could reply, she held a hand up, silencing him, “don't repeat yourself! I don't care about your reasoning, confirming this with him in the room is foolhardy!”

”If he's correct, you mean,“ Laxus added, having stayed put at his chosen post, but the stiffness of his jaw spoke volumes towards his racing thoughts.

”What are you implying?!“

The larger man shrugged, ”Just that there's no proof.“

She didn't know who to direct her fury to. Towards Jellal for his seemingly poor decision making, or Laxus for doubting his assessment. The clan would never understand the trust she'd formed with the man through the years, not with him being an outsider and yet the logical skepticism infuriated her.

Surprisingly, Gajeel also shot up to his feet, brandishing his arm before a baffled Jellal as if protecting him from the others' scrutiny. ”Maybe ya' should let the man finish before jumping to dumbass conclusions, eh? Have I even tried to touch that girl since coming here?“

“No, you only showed that you could if you really wanted to!”

Erza and Laxus both answered, voices echoing off the walls in angry snarls. Their feelings suddenly matched, both upset at the recent events forcing one of their own to be shut away.

“Your attempts at baiting Natsu is enough reason to doubt your motives!” Erza opined, voice trembling with unconcealed rage.

Jellal cleared his throat, batting away Gajeel's arm from his face as he thought over his words, ”As awful as his methods are, I'm sure Gajeel had his reasons, Erza. Like I had mine when speaking with Lucy.“

It was then Makarov chose to interject, ”If you children are finished arguing,“ glaring at Porlyusica for holding him down as he grunted in slight pain. His voice turned their attention back to him, all having the decency to look sheepish under his scrutinizing gaze, “I'd very much like to hear these reasons properly. From both of you.”

The return to topic was enough to settle Erza back in her seat, but her blazing, ferocious eyes never left Gajeel's as he reseated, a fanged grin splitting his face. It raised her ire like no other as she fought the urge to sink her fist in his face. But Makarov wanted answers, and she would hold herself back long enough to get them.

“To be frank, Lucy's abilities are similar to my own, but vastly different,” Jellal muttered, glancing towards the metal draconis and back again, “All Celestials— regardless of clan, have the ability to read and listen to the stars, but not without extreme focus and intent. For the most skilled it can take hours of meditation and high concentrations of magical output to achieve results. For others it takes weeks to commune; often being done in groups to share and strengthen the magic.”

“... that sounds,“ Makarov's nose twitched, imagining the amount of work invoking a celestial's power took, “very involved.”

Jellal nodded, “It is. I myself boast other abilities outside of that, but even so Lucy's own connection to the stars is quite different from what I know it to be. She confided in me that she can hear them speak to her at any given time, day or night.” He paused, taking in a breath as his words sank in, their weight filling the empty air with a harsh tension.

“The last known Celestial to do this was our origin: the half of the moon struck from the skies to live on Earth. It is said she's been reborn countless times, but this is the first time her spirit has returned to a celestial tribe in centuries. And whether or not you believe what I say, without a doubt Lucy is far more powerful than she’s aware of. If Jose is aware of this he will not stop hunting her until she is in his grasp.”

”And that-“ Gajeel interrupted, his harsh voice cutting through the tension as he smacked a heavy hand on the table, eyes gleaming, ”is where I come in. He can keep the Blondie with his stars and moon talk. But that hothead that’s been hiding in your clan is why I’m in this mess. And he’s only gonna get worse before he gets any better.”

Laxus's laughter boomed through the room, the man of thunder and lightning hunched over with shoulders shaking, “What? Are you gonna say he's the sun next? I expected a serious meeting today. Not this sudden show and tell of children’s myths-”

“Pfft, you kiddin’ me?” Gajeel cackled, fangs glinting, “Sure we got our stories, but we ain’t as hide-bound as the celestials are. He aint no Sun, he's just a brat with an overheated bloodline.”

“Meaning?” Laxus prompted, his laughter cutting short as if he hadn't been struck dumb with hilarity moments before. His gaze grew cold, calculating and sparks of magic danced across his skin.

Leaning forward, Gajeel tilted his gaze to Makarov and clicked his tongue, creating a metal clanking in his mouth. He spat a fully formed nail that embedded itself in the otherwise pristine table. “Back home’s a fuckin mess. It’s been that way for as long as i’ve known and for as long as he’s known it too.”

He jabbed a thumb at the ceiling in Natsu’s general direction. “ Fire Draconi have been the top dogs for generations. That one up there was next in the line of succession before some got it in their heads that they’ve had enough. They decided to give someone else a go at the throne.”

He paused, giving the others a chance to take this in. Reading the minute changes in their expressions as they were reminded of what Natsu truly was. Whatever front the pyro had put up all these years was obviously a good one if it was so hard for them to wrap their brains around it.

He smirked, “Little Princey’s my one shot at going back home. I got sent out to make sure he was actually dead all this time. So I've been runnin’ all around sniffing out the truth so I can go back. Gotta admit though, findin’ out he’s still breathing does put a kink into things for me.” His smirk grew to a malicious smile, “one that I find hilarious.”

“Your sense of humor is a foul one given the trouble it’s already caused for the boy.” Makarov muttered.

Gajeel pulled the nail from the table with his pinky, playing with the metal as if it were clay and paid the Chief’s intense glare no mind.

“If I walked in here and said your boy was royalty would you have believed me from the get go? Ain’t no way he’d give up the truth. I had to worm it outta him first for ya to see before I said my piece.” He said easily, “the black fire got your attention didn’t it?”

Makarov’s brows furrowed together in thought. Right, those dark flames…It was abnormal, the iron user said it before, which mirrors Jellal's findings about Lucy. The parallels were starting to give the chief a headache as he tried to connect the dots. “When you spoke of the fire before you made it seem a rarity even amongst your clan. That it carries severe implications. Was there any truth to that, or was it all talk and bluster to rile up Natsu?”

”Tch, no bluster about it,“ he snorted, nodding at Erza, ”Your friend has reincarnating moons but the royal draconis line always has one with anger issues and black flames pop up every now and again. It never ends pretty for ‘em. They always go mad and fuck things up for everyone.”

Throughout the entire discussion, Porlyusica had remained quiet. At Gajeel’s blaze explanation, a snarl finally escaped. Makarov almost jumped at the vicious sound, eyeing her from the side. True anger transformed her features: color flooded her pale eyes as the pupils turned to slits while she bared her fangs. Her irritation was palpable. ”To think I've been gone from the clan for so long only to hear the rhetoric of the usurper in my home. What are your actual intentions regarding Natsu, boy?”

Gajeel's demeanor shifted, eyes widening in surprise as he finally recognized the older woman for what she truly was. He straightened in his seat looking her over, almost dumbfounded. “Well, shit, this place is just full of surprises. I knew I smelt draconis on ya but it didn’t click ‘til you spoke. You look just like-”

“Enough!” She barked, voice hissing into a quiet rage. Harsh winds ripped through the room, rippings papers and books from their shelves and tossing her hair in her eyes. Rising to her feet, she was calm in the growing storm as she stalked over to the younger draconis, towering over him.“Answer my question or I'll have Makarov lock you up as good as that shadow fool!”

“You think you can hold me as easily as him?”

“No.” Laxus said, his voice carrying over the heavy winds. “ What he got is child’s play compared to what we’ll do to you.”

Erza also rose, hand poised, ready to draw her blade that hummed with power. Jellal tilted back in his seat, just enough to stare at Gajeel in disbelief, “Do I need to remind you of whose side I'll choose if you act out, Gajeel?”

The room felt too small for the lot of them, with magics so strong they filled the empty spaces to almost suffocating levels. Makarov stayed in place, watching and waiting, confident in his children's abilities to incarcerate Gajeel if need be. His interest, however, followed the outlines of Porylusica's paling face, sweat dripping from her brow as her magic surged from unused depths.

The wild man threw his hands up and shook his head, “Fine! Seriously, I can't have any fun here, can I? Yer all a buncha stiffs.“ He nodded towards Porly's chair with a rumble in his chest, ”Sit down old lady, I don't wanna see you have an ulcer over nothin'.”

She stayed in place, gaze darkening and he continued, ”Augh, fine, if it'll get ya' to sit down. I’m not here to kill him-”

“-could’ve fooled me.” Laxus muttered.

“-my only intention is getting his ass back on that throne. You might’ve run off but I like my home. And I'd like to get back to it before it implodes from civil war, happy?“

The keep was ancient.

Lucy recognized that within days of her arrival. Pieces of it were no longer serviceable to living with bits of wall and roof crumbling inward. Even fewer areas remained intact after the incident. Lucy remembered the gaping maw that was now the outside of the keep. It was a horrifying sight as the remains of fires crawled along its ancient body.

The halls that were usable smelled faintly of musk, a cloying mix of old sea salt and dust. At first, she found the smell suffocating— enough to make her eyes itch— but with the windows open to the Spring air, it had a refreshing taste to it.

But the walls quaking as magic surged beneath her feet down below, made her all too aware of the fortress' age. It rumbled up and along the walls, shuddering dust and old cobwebs from the ceiling above. It brought a shiver down her spine as she paused, carefully listening for further vibrations.

What had them so riled up down there? she wondered. Lucy knew of the meeting being held, was accustomed to the fact Makarov saved those meetings for his closest confidants unless he felt others were needed, but her curiosity pulled her to retreat back to the lower floors. Perhaps, if she was quiet enough, she could sneak up to the room and listen in, much as she heard many others had done in the past.

No, she shook her head and finished her climb up the last set of winding stairs, she could think about that later. She had more important things to focus on.

Jellal had looked mystified when Makarov refused visitation to Natsu. Lucy's plea to see him, keep him company -anything- had fallen on deaf ears. When his hand fell upon her shoulder in quiet support, urging the Chief to reconsider, she had looked to her kin with a raised brow, curious towards his motives, but the blue haired man wouldn't meet her eyes. She tried to ask, and he pressed a finger to his lips to silence her.

”Do what you feel is right,“ He told her, voice so quiet, Lucy felt the words were being spoken directly into her mind, ”he can forgive you later.“

Before she could think of what to reply, he'd been whisked off alongside Erza for their meeting, leaving the blonde behind with a whirling, conflicted mind.

A conflict that lasted for all, but two minutes before her expression steeled, her mind made up. She would see Natsu for herself when the moment presented itself, whether Makarov agreed to it or not. She was tired of asking permission.

Which brought her here, with more questions than answers, her legs sore from the flights of steps as gentle magic braced her weaker leg. The meditation Jellal taught her helped, and she proudly made it to the west wing without a single stumble.

But now she had to figure out which room belonged to the very Draconis she sought out. Each door was shut, some with rotted wood barely hanging on their hinges. Natsu wouldn't be behind those. Others looked pristine and new. She wondered how often they attempted renewing the keep, and what made them stop.

The hallway was eerily quiet as she sought out her trapped friend. The sounds of the world below didn't make it through such thick stone, and the magic tremors from before had dissipated. It left her feeling isolated, and uncertain if anyone truly was up there.

”I can't believe he'd be left alone like this,“ She muttered to herself, fury rising in her veins, ”it's horrible.“

Why did Makarov think this was necessary? The thought burned in her mind, almost distracting her from a faint glimmer of purple out the corner of her eye. She stopped, doubling back to stare at the familiar magic that coated one of the doors: Freed's runes. She stared quizzically for a time, felt it through the air with her own senses, and lifted a finger to push through as a test.

Nothing happened. Was it there to prevent escape, rather than entry? Settling her nerves with a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles against the hardwood. She felt warmth spilling from the cracks beneath the door. He must be in here right?

No sound.

No reply.

She tried again, hard enough to make her hand sting, ”... Natsu?“ she whispered cautiously.

Suddenly there was nothing but noise. A curse, the sound of a body flailing from a bed, the old frame clacking against the wall as fabric and body tumbled to the floor. All this followed by the hurried, padded steps of bare feet as they ran to the door.

It swung with her hand still in the air, hanging frozen as she stared wide eyed at the most bedraggled Natsu she had ever seen, gripping the door like a lifeline. A wave of heat brushed across her face as all contained in the room rushed out through the chilled hall.

She had gotten so used to seeing bandages wrapping his body in the past weeks. He looked bare without them now. He was always picking at them. Without the watchful gaze of a healer or a guard, he must have given in to the temptation to release himself from his bindings.

Pale scars stood out from the familiar brown as they criss-crossed his body. No part of him was unmarred and guilt rose in the back of Lucy’s mind at the sight. The healing gouges where Kage’s magic sank into his skin, the dark lines that cobwebbed down his side that she knew were the remains of the lightning’s path when it flowed through his body: they were all there because of her.

Her stunned gaze fell to his neck and she had to struggle not to cry. It almost wrapped his whole neck, the fragile healing tissue raised and warped. It was a permanent signifier to how close she came to losing him.

His naked chest heaved as he sucked in heavy breaths of air and steam poured off his skin. Disbelief covered his face as Natsu’s gaze met hers.

”Lucy…?“ A hoarse, tired voice crackled from his lips. She spied the dark circles under his eyes, peering between sweat-slick bangs.

”What ... .what are ya' doing here?“

The question was an obvious one, but Lucy couldn't reply, too stunned by the look of him. Her fingers shook as she reached out for him, flinching back from the heat as she noticed the embedded, charred imprints of his feet in the stone.

Suddenly, her voice, and all manner of reasoning, left her and the romni struggled to remember why she'd come in the first place.

“I- I just,” She stammered, attempting to grasp her words as her eyes continued to examine him from head to toe. "I couldn't just leave you alone...”

Self-doubt reared its ugly head, smashing into her as she chewed her bottom lip, questioning her motives. Maybe Makarov was right, maybe she should have waited. He didn't look like he wanted to -

All thoughts flew from her mind as the heatwave that surrounded Natsu was extinguished in an instant. The burning on the floor turned to smoke and the waves of emanating magic sank within his skin as Natsu watched her with jaw slack and brows disappearing into the fringe of his sweat-slicked hair.

An arm engulfed her like a viper strike, dragging her in and against him, crushing Lucy in a hug tight enough to make her bones pop and the other slammed the door shut behind them. With face buried into her neck, Natsu's hot breath fanned across her skin as his body slumped against her, relaxing considerably.

He said nothing regarding her surprised squeaks, only pulled her further into the room, stumbling over their feet all the while keeping her flush against him. The edge of the mattress connected with the backs of his knees, easily falling to it with Lucy in his lap struggling to make sense of the situation. Her cheeks burnt brightly as the sudden turns of the room left her head spinning.

His arms encased her, but Lucy managed to ease away just enough to peer at his clouded eyes. He shivered as something not quite human gleamed in the depths of his pupils. As if he wasn’t all there.

“What are you doing-”

Yanking her back down with a hand behind her head, cut off her words as lips fastened against hers. Breathing harshly through her nose, she gasped against his chapped lips as a firm hand rested against her hip. It was sudden. Quick. And stole her breath as her mind screamed in a myriad of confused emotions from the action.

Reflex and instinct kicked in as Lucy bit down on his lip hard. A surprised squeak of pain left Natsu, his grip loosening just enough for her to scramble off at the first opportunity. Giving no time to recollect himself, her palm connected with his cheek in a resounding slap! The harsh sound reverberated around the empty room and echoed in their heads like an alarm.

Natsu’s eyes shifted between clarity and confusion as he held his now swollen cheek. Lucy shakily stood with her hand still raised for a second strike, shaking and tense. Her heart pounded hard and fast, as if attempting to burst from her chest and her lips felt swollen and raw.

“It's about time you got here,” He rasped, gaze burning straight through her soul.

Lucy blurted the first thing that came to her mind, “What in the HELL is going on here?”

#Fairy Tail #Fairy Tail Fanfiction #Nalu #Natsu x Lucy #Nalu Fanfiction #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy Heartfilia #whoops #that could have gone better #:3 #I'm sure Natsu will make up for it #probably

22 notes · View notes

graysonsposts2 · 2 years

Note

so writing requests huh? if you’re interested, i’d enjoy a snippet of Donnie (tmnt 2012) x gn reader, where Donnie’s very late night work is interrupted by reader’s chronic migraine flare up.

I got you!

I’ll do my best <33

Tmnt 2012 Donnie x GN!reader

Prompt: reader has a headache and goes to Donnie for help.

Tw: none! :)

—————————————————

(Your/name)’s point of view:

A wise woman once told me you’ll only ever get rid of a problem when you kill it from the root. She was right.

I must’ve caught something or maybe I spent too much time looking at a bright screen but my head was killing me. The hollow inside my brain ached and felt like a clown was banging a hammer against my skull.

My brain felt funny, too. Any thought I had, it made this migraine even worse. Outside was raining good, so I let my window stay open just a little cause I figured the rain would drown out the pain.

I was wrong. It didn’t help, it also didn’t help that I didn’t have any migraine medicine. I finally got frustrated and sat up slowly, putting a hand to my head while my other pulled off the covers and I stepped out of bed. Sleeping this off obviously wasn’t helping, especially since it’s only 9:35. Since my roommates were all asleep and stores and restaurants were starting to close, I figured a walk in the rain might help me. Who knows? Maybe I’ll stop by to see some friends, my turtle friends. So, I dug into my closet and picked out a simple outfit, (color/choice) pants/shorts/skirt with a (C/C) shirt and a (C/C) jacket. My door creaked as it opened, making me cringe a little before I peaked out into the dark hallway and then entered the dark hallway. My steps sometimes made some creaks when I stepped, but my roommates were pretty big sleepers so it didn’t matter if I was a little loud while stepping down the stairs and to the door. I grabbed an umbrella before leaving and locking the door, immediately the cold air hit me and the rain gently landed on me. For a moment, I let the rain wash my face and damp my hair before opening the umbrella and started to walk. New York was always a pretty city when it was night time, the lights made it pop and sometimes the gloomy weather made the city look cool. Eventually, the air started getting a little too cold. Maybe I should’ve brought a heavier jacket, or maybe I should go home right now and try to fall back asleep. But this headache, it was still here. It’s like a really annoying fly that’s stuck in my head and it won’t stop flying around. Hearing my shoes step over something metal, I stopped and looked down. A manhole cover. I always hated this part of visiting my friends, the smell. I closed the umbrella, lifted this heavy cover up and then clogged my nose with my fingers before stepping down. Even with my nose clogged, it still smelt horrible, that’s what you get when you go down the sewers. Although I will say, the smell distracted me of my headache. The sewers were dark but I learned how to get to my friends lair well, and eventually I followed a subway track until I found the opening to their home. The faint sound of space hero’s played and got louder the closer I gotten, that was definitely Leo. I also heard the pinball machine going, probably Mikey. I looked into the liar, my guesses were all correct. “Y/n!” Mikey said, he waved at me and went back to playing the ball machine. Raph sat on the couch with Leo and they both looked over to me. “Hey y/n” Raph said. “I didn’t know you’d come over” Leo told me, he smiled at me so I smiled back and gently kicked my shoes dry at the entrance before entering. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to stop by.” I explained. I could see that spike rested on Raph’s shoulder, I could tell he was a big animal lover and soft on the inside but he’d never let me or anyone else know it. But I knew. “What’s the matter? Did you get dunked in water?” Raph asked jokingly. I laughed sarcastically. “Ha ha, very funny. Where’s the tall one?”. “In his lab. As always” Leo answered, turning his attention to the Tv. Taking that information, I started walking to his lab. I love Donnie. I get along with him pretty good, and maybe he’ll have something for this headache. “Have fun, nerding out” Raph spat. “Thank you, dearest” I replied in a high pitch voice before setting my umbrella on the stairs up the lab before knocking. “I’m busy, Mikey!” I heard him say. Eh, fair enough. I love Mikey, too, but he’s a little too hyper and jittery for me sometimes.

I walked inside the lab and I saw him over at metal head, twisting a flat head screwdriver into his arm. Donnie looked over at me, first his eyes with annoyance but they softened, and I could see his eyes lit up too. “What’s the matter? Mikey getting on your nerves today?” I asked. I could see his smile grow and he immediately walked up to me, it almost looked like a dog running to his owner after he’s been gone for so long. “Y/n! I’m glad your here” he said, he hugged me. I pressed my nose into his neck and hugged him back. “Oh good.” I said, feeling a pinch in my head again. He let go of me and I followed him to metal head. “How come you’re not at home?” He asked. “Not that I’m complaining, at all, just wondering” he quickly corrected his sentence.

I smiled and leaned against his desk. “I couldn’t sleep. I have a really bad migraine currently and nothing to help it with. So I took a walk to try and help it”. I could see he immediately started to worry, and maybe a little panic but maybe I was wrong. “Oh, do you want aspirin? I’ve got plenty” he asked me as his hand touched my forehead, oh thank god. “Oh that would be awesome, Don. Please” I said, he went around his desk and I watched him grab a bottle from inside his desk. Once he opened it, he handed me two aspirins. “Here, and let me get you some water” he bolted before I could say anything.

I could also hear Mikey was starting to tease him, or I assumed cause Donnie was telling him to buzz off and go back to playing the pinball machine. Then he came in with a water bottle, “here you go” he said. The bottle was cold to the touch, so he must’ve taken it out the fridge. “Oh you’re such a life saver, Don. Thank you” I thanked before taking the medicine, Donnie sat down at his desk and looked up at me while I drank water. “What all have you guys been doing tonight?” I asked, turning to him. “Anything exciting?” I asked. He rolled his eyes and said “I wish. No. You?”. I shrugged. “Nah. I just wanted to see my favorite smart guy, is all” I smiled, he giggled awkwardly and looked away from me. “Aww… All I’ve been doing is working on metal head”

“Giving him a spa day, huh?” I asked. He nodded and looked over at his robot. He seemed like the same, maybe it was just a tune up. “Yeah. He’s been glitching out a lot so I’m trying to fix him.” He explained. “I’m also trying to figure out how to make retro mutagen for April’s dad” the mention of aprils dad seemed to have brought his energy down, i could tell he felt real responsible for him. “Any luck?” I asked, but he simply shook his head no. I got off his desk and came behind him to hug him, his body was warm and his shell was oddly comfortable to squeeze.

“It’s okay, Donnie. You’ll figure it out” I told him. “I know… I just feel real bad.” He spoke softly. “That was our fault.” His computer background had me and April talking, huh… I didn’t even notice he took that picture. “Hey, accidents happen. You’re working to fix it” I told him, I spun his chair around and he looked up at me.

“Besides. She’ll come around, it’s April” I told him. I’m not sure if my words had any affect on him or if it did, but I noticed he started to think but then he smiled at me. “Thanks y/n” he said. I gently patted his cheek. “Come on, smile. You look cute when you do” I said, he chuckled shyly and I looked at the gap in his teeth. “Oh come on… you’re gorgeous/handsome.” He told me. I giggled.

“What is this? A love comedy?” Raph asked, Donnie quickly turned around and his face was pink of embarrassment. Raph was trying to hold in his laughter, i could tell. “At least I have a love life, knuckle head.” I said. “Now that was just hurtful” Raph said, crossing his arms. “Not sorry” I said. “We’ll I hate to break up whatever this is but pizza’s here” Raph said before he walked out. What an asshole, but he’s cool. I’d like to think we’re good friends. Donnie cleared his throat awkwardly and I chuckled before kissing his cheek. “Come on.” I told him, “okay” he said, flustered as he allowed me to take his hand and walk him out to the living room. Thankfully, my headache was gone. Finally.

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt donnie #2012 donnie #x reader #tmnt donnie x reader

54 notes · View notes

terrifictoonman · 9 months

Text

[WP] "Ha, you stepped right into my trap!" the young witch cheered. "Now I'm going to ... to ... ... I actually have to clue what, you are my first ever human catch..." [Reddit - u/WernerderChamp] (12/12/23)

{Headache}

"Well, and I'm just spitballing here," says Ian, "you could just let me go?" The man hangs upside down over an open bonfire. A shadowy figure lurks just outside the fire's light, in the forest's dark, glaring at Ian with their bright green eyes.

"...No," says the witch.

"Heh, can't blame a guy for trying, right?" says Ian. The witch groans as a green rag flies out from the darkness, wrapping itself around Ian's mouth.

"You talk too much," says the witch. She paces around the edge of light, Ian catching the occasional glimpses of brown leather boots darting in and out of sight. "OK, what do humans do? They don't fly, no magical attunement one way or the other, they can't breathe underwater...for long at least." The witch's eyes look at Ian once again as an inhumanly long shadowy hand reaches out from the darkness, grabbing Ian and pulling him away from the fire. "You wouldn't happen to be hiding any horns or a second brain, perhaps?"

Ian spoke but remained incoherent due to the rag. With a quick flash from the witch's eyes, the rag suddenly turned to ash, causing Ian to cough.

"I mean," Ian chuckles, "depending on who you ask, my second brain's better than the one you're talking to." An animalistic growl hums from the forest. A pale human hand reaches out, its fingers stained in black, grabbing Ian by the mouth.

"Maybe I should take your tongue first," says the witch. "At the very least, it'll shut you up long enough for me to think!"

"Hey, you're the one who disintegrated the gag, not me," Ian mocked. "By the way, you have really soft hands." The shadow hand lets go of Ian, letting him swing over the roaring flame. "Oh, come on! You're about to kill me anyway. The least you can do is let me prattle on a bit until you figure out what to do with me."

"And why would I put myself through that?" the witch asks.

"Well, seeing as you live in the middle of nowhere," Ian says, "I'd probably make pretty entertaining company. Unless you're expecting someone else to stumble their way here?" The witch stares at Ian as a sudden gust of wind sends an intense shiver down the man's spine. The witch walks into the light, revealing herself as a short, lanky woman dressed in a stained brown hoodie over a torn purple dress. Her witch hat shielded her pale skin from the light, save for her long, crooked nose.

The witch traced a glowing ring into the air with her finger, flinging it at Ian. The ring went around Ian's neck before erupting in a blinding light. After regaining his senses, Ian quickly surveys his surroundings, finding himself under the witch's arm as the two move deeper into the forest. The witch notices Ian looking at her and holds his head up before her, putting the two at eye level.

Ian tries to free himself from the witch to no avail, unable to do little more than tilt his head slightly.

"Careful," the witch says, "you've been through a lot tonight. You might be feeling a little...lightheaded." The witch cackles maniacally into the air as Ian's face fills with dread, realizing what she has done to him. Ian's terrified screams pair with the witch's horrid laughter, the two echoing throughout the forest.

Before coming to a sudden stop as another gust of wind sends an intense chill through them both. The witch tucks Ian's head under her arm as she races through the forest back to her warm and cozy hut, Ian urging her to hurry every step of the way.

----------

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story!

If you have any comments, critiques, or corrections, please let me know down below (as long as they're constructive (or funny)).

Stay safe, keep warm, and be kind to yourself and others.

ToonMan, AWAY!

#writing prompt #witches #fantasy #writeblr #creative writing #writting #Hey #What are humans good for anyway?#spooky

0 notes

syllvane · 3 years

Text

she’s a rainbow- natasha romanoff x reader

a/n: this was loosely requested by anon, inspired by a song of the same name

The first time you see her, she is dressed in blue.

You’re at one of Tony’s parties- and you don’t want to be there, you’d rather be anywhere else in the world in fact, but you work for Tony and more than that, you’re worried for him.

Though you both had worked closely on things regarding the Iron Man suit, he had been pulling away from you without any explanation as to why. The closest that you had gotten to an explanation was whenever he got drunk and started mumbling about a new energy source or something.

You stood in the corner of the party, nursing a drink as the lights flashed and the music played loudly, so loud that you could barely hear yourself think over the music, much less have a conversation.

You made your way outside of the house and even there, a small part of the party seemed to have spilled out of the house and you weren’t able to find the peace and quiet that you were looking for.

Someone touched your arm gently and you spun around, not knowing who to expect, though it certainly wasn’t her.

She had long, dark red hair and she was wearing a beautiful midnight blue dress to match, her hair done in curls.

You didn’t believe in love at first sight but looking at her, you thought that maybe you had been wrong.

“Oh, I’m so sorry- I thought you were someone else,” She said, smiling sheepishly. “What’s your name?”

You told her your name, momentarily losing your train of thought.

“What about you? What’s your name?”

“Natalie Rushman- I’m Ms. Pott’s personal assistant at Stark Industries,” She smiled, extending her hand out.

You extended your own, taking her hand and shaking it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Natalie- and welcome to Stark Industries.”

Were the two of you technically coworkers? If you dated each other, would you have to tell HR about it?

“So, what do you do? Famous model, actress?” She suggested and you laughed slightly.

“Now you’re just flattering me, I mean if anyone’s the model here, it’s you. I just work with Tony on the Iron Man project and things of that nature.”

Her eyes went wide as if she was more impressed by that than any of the things she mentioned before.

“Just? Don’t downplay how smart you have to be for that, humble isn’t a good look on you.”

“You’re right, I guess… just a force of habit.”

She smiled softly.

“It must be a strange work environment if he’s always this… impulsive.”

You glanced back towards the inside of the house, seeing several models on each of Tony’s arms.

He was clearly drunk.

“He wasn’t… it’s been different these past couple of months. I don’t know, if Tony’s good at one thing besides engineering, it’s bottling up his feelings.”

She nodded intently, hanging onto every word that you were saying.

“I’m sorry. That must be tough for you.”

You sighed.

“It’s harder to see him like this than it is when he ices me out.”

She opened her mouth to speak but before she could, Tony stumbled out of the doors.

“There you are, Natalie- come back in and enjoy the party!” He beckoned before being pulled back inside.

Natalie looked at you apologetically.

“I should… it was nice talking to you though, really,” She said, giving you a small smile before she entered the house once again.

As you would later learn, that was the only honest thing that she told you that entire conversation.

The crowd roared as she entered the home and she did not look back at you once.

The next time you see her, she is dressed in black.

All pretense of meekness was gone and what was left was a woman with the same red curls as before, her midnight blue dress traded in for a black jumpsuit with long sleeves.

She is sitting on Tony’s front porch step and given the way her eyes are following you as you made your way up the drive, you guessed that it was you who she wanted to talk to.

“You lied to me,” You said, almost wincing at how childish your accusation sounded- of course she had lied to you, that was her job.

She was a spy, she didn’t owe you an explanation or an apology.

“I’m sorry,” She said, her words careful. “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have.”

You don’t believe her.

“Why are you even here, Natalie? I-”

“It’s Natasha,” She corrected and you didn’t say anything for a couple of moments.

You truly knew nothing about her and more than that, you trusted nothing about her. After all, what was stopping her from lying about being named ‘Natasha’ as well?

“As for why I’m doing this… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think that it was all fake, I guess.”

You crossed your arms.

“So what was real then?”

Another pause.

"I really did like you,” She said softly and even though you desperately wanted to be angry at her, you couldn’t help but melt slightly. “And you are too good for him.”

“We’re not…” You took a step back from her as if she had just slapped you. “Are you just trying to manipulate me into joining SHIELD?”

She blinked, as if the thought had never even crossed her mind.

“What- no! I think you’d be a good fit for SHIELD, but I wasn’t…” She fell silent, studying you once again. “That’s all you think I am now, isn’t it? A spy.”

You shrugged helplessly, tears pricking your eyes.

“You haven’t given me much else to go on.”

“Forget it. Just… go back to someone who completely undervalues the work that you do and just forget that I exist. I’ll do the same for you.”

She stormed off without saying anything else, getting into a black unmarked car and driving off.

When you see her again, her hair is shorter and although you aren’t positive, you think you’re on a plane.

You also have the worst headache of your entire life and vague memories of the past couple of days, all of which seem to be tinted in blue.

“I liked your long hair better,” You mumbled and she rolled her eyes, though a small smile appeared on her face.

“You didn’t take my advice about forgetting me.”

“Can you blame me?” You said before you winced, your head throbbing. “What happened? I remember… a portal opened, I think. And some guy… walked out. The rest is fuzzy.”

“That guy… Loki… he mind-controlled you. A bunch of people, actually.”

“Wait,” You sat up straight, causing a wave of dizziness to rush over you. “Loki, as in Norse mythology Loki? That Loki?”

“Yes.”

You sat there for a second, thinking.

“Hm. That’s interesting.”

She blinked.

“You’re handling this surprisingly well.”

You shrugged slightly.

“I’m a scientist. It wouldn’t do me any good to ignore the evidence that’s been presented to me.”

She didn’t respond, handing you a cup with medicine in it.

“For your head,” She said and you nodded, looking at the pills before taking them with the water that was just off to the side. “I didn’t take my own advice either, you know. I didn’t forget about you.”

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds.

“Why not?”

“I already told you, didn’t I? I really did like you,” She said, not meeting your eyes.

“I liked you too. But I don’t… I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

She thought about this for a minute.

“What are you doing Thursday night?”

“If the world hasn’t ended by then? Probably going back to work.”

“Have dinner with me. I might not even make it out of this alive, but-”

“Yes.”

A small smirk appeared on her face.

“That didn’t take long.”

“Oh shut up,” You said, a small smile on your face. “Don’t you have a city to save?”

She glanced towards the door before looking back at you.

“I suppose I do. I’ll see you on the other side?”

“I hope so,” You said softly and she smiled before walking out of the room you were recovering in.

The next time you see her is on Thursday, outside of the address that she texted you.

You are nearly twenty minutes late because of all the damage that had been done during the Battle of New York, but when you arrive, she is standing there in a pale gold dress, her hair curled and styled like she just walked out of the 1920s.

You are rendered speechless by her beauty and she just looked at you and smirked.

“Something catch your attention?” She asked innocently and you rolled your eyes, though you felt heat rise to your cheeks. She offered you her hand and you took it. “I feel the same way about you, you know. You take my breath away.”

The two of you walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand and as certain as you had once been that there would be no relationship between you and Natasha, you found your own doubts about your relationship with her slowly slipping away.

And they continue to slip away.

Her dress is emerald green when she tells you about her adopted family, about Ohio and about Yelena, and it’s silver like moonlight when she stands up on her tiptoes to kiss you on the doorstep of your apartment.

It’s sky blue when she introduces you to the rest of the Avengers as her girlfriend and it’s a black, oversized hoodie when she first tells you that she loves you, laying next to you on the couch, half-asleep and fighting off a cold.

(You say it back, but she’s already fallen back asleep. You don’t worry though, because you know that you have all the time in the world to say it.)

Her dress is white when the two of you finally get married and her hair is longer, curled like it was the night you first met.

Tony is drunk again and is taking credit for your love story in his toast, but you don’t care, not as long as you’re with her.

You can face anything, you think, as long as you’re with her.

192 notes · View notes

wishesunderthestars · 4 years

Text

Eunoia // Ch. 12

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 18.1k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, mentions of putting down hybrids, discussion of insomnia caused by a traumatic event, panic attacks, derogetory language

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Phew, that was long one. Please comment and reblog it really motivates me to keep writing. And I always love receiving asks so don’t be shy ;)

"I can't believe this is happening! Why can't I receive good news for once?" After the initial shock, you were fuming. "Work of months has been destroyed and for what? Because someone decided not to take the proper safety measures to save some money. People could have been hurt in there! Seriously hurt. And it would have been on our heads!"

Namjoon was holding your phone, the email you had received opened on the screen. "You didn't know they hadn't taken the necessary precautions. It wouldn't have been on your head."

"Can you imagine what would have happened if we had been filming? If the actors and the crew were inside and the building collapsed on us?" The chair scraped against the floor as you raised to your feet. You couldn't stay sitting anymore. "I don't even want to think about that. How many people... If we would even get out of there alive. And it isn't only us. What if the earthquake hadn't hit at night? And the workers were still inside? What then? This is wrong on so many levels I can't even begin to count."

Five point six Richter. That was the magnitude of the earthquake that had hit Virginia. It had been felt in Washington. They said it had affected a radius of two hundred kilometers around the center of the earthquake. No one had expected it and no one had been prepared. In the email there was a detailed description of how the earthquake had caused the sets for The Raven Cycle to collapse in on themselves, because the respective protection measures hadn't been taken. The earthquake had hit at night, waking up everyone in the area and causing panic as people flooded the streets. They had discovered the ruined sets in the morning.

Protection measures were of utmost important in every environment and you were baffled that a film studio with such prestige would disregard them so easily. You had half a mind to storm into the building you had just returned from and make a scene in front of everyone. They had put everyone in danger, not only the actors and the crew and all the people working there but also the passersby who could have had metal rods falling on their heads.

How could they allow this? How could they be so careless? It wasn't a building made for only a couple of days of use with light materials. Filming would take place there for the better part of the summer. In a few months you would have been there. You could have been there.

"And now you have to leave?" Namjoon asked, jaw tense. "Can't you wait a few days and go later?" You knew what he was thinking. You didn't want to leave either. It was the worst time possible for you to leave. The two hybrids in the guestroom, the injuries you had to tend to, Jimin and Jungkook, Jimin's past. But it wasn't your decision to make.

"I can't, they have already planned the whole trip. It isn't like I have a choice. The message is clear, I will be flying to Virginia in two days. As the director and showrunner, I have to be there. They have called everyone important in the project and I am one of the lucky ones. And it isn't like I can refuse unless I have a very important reason. And I can't exactly tell them I am nursing to health a stray hybrid until he and his friend can live on their own again, instead of reporting them to the hybrid services."

Namjoon's face scrunched up at the mention of the services. They were anything but kind to hybrids. They thought they could do anything to them if they were strays before they had to give them to a center. The times he and his small pack had to run away from them weren't few. It disgusted you, the way some people behaved.

You landed back on your chair with a huff, tired of pacing. Namjoon must have got a headache from the way his eyes were following you. "This is just what I didn't need. I thought we wouldn't have to go to Virginia until summer!"

You felt like banging your head on the wall but you settled for laying you head on the desk. It collided with a dull thud.

It wasn't only the destroyed set and what that meant for the show. Slowing down of the production, a larger budget needed (oh, the irony) and the bad press you would get if it got out.

People in the area must have suffered. Flashes of collapsed buildings, shattered windows and cracks in the streets ran through your mind. No, it couldn't be that bad. You prayed it wasn't that bad.

Namjoon frowned. "What are you supposed to do there? You aren't going to help rebuild the sets. What do they need you for?" You could see the worry in his eyes. His instincts calling him to protect you, to not let you leave. You appreciated the fact he was fighting it.

With your cheek squished against the desk you said, "No, I'm not going to rebuild the sets, but they need me there nonetheless. There is a legal part of this whole thing I have to be there for. And me being there might help the ones doing the rebuilding."

Namjoon sighed, giving up on trying to keep you here. "Will John come with you?"

"Most likely," you said, raising your head from the desk and sitting back on the chair. Your back hurt from the awkward angle you had bent your body in. "I will ask him but I'm pretty sure he will say yes. He always comes with me when I'm working out of California. He has toured half of the world being my bodyguard. And this time.... This time I don't think he would let me go without him."

"It seems you do tend to travel a lot," Namjoon noted. There wasn't any judgment or disdain in his voice, he was simply stating a fact. If anything he looked at the cream and gold world globe on your desk with longing. He had told you he had never left California, created and bred in Los Angeles. You didn't like how he said "created" but you couldn't correct him. "It must be nice seeing all those places."

The gold of the globe caught the light, distorted figures moving on the polished surface. "It's nice when it's properly planned and when I actually want to go. And there aren't any natural disasters involved. I can't say that's true this time. It's the furthest it could be from the truth." You groaned. "What am I going to do now? I can't leave like this. There are so many things going on."

Namjoon was too close to what he looked like talking to you about the ending of the Book Thief. "How long will you be gone?"

"A week?" The email didn't specify. A week was how long most work trips that didn't include filming lasted, but this wasn't a normal work trip. This had never happened to you or to anyone you knew before. You had heard of disasters but nothing like this.

Your fingers had subconsciously started drumming a tune on the desk. A tune that had comforted you once. A tune he used to hum long before he turned it into a song. You stilled your hand.

An earthquake. Five point six Richter. Shaking buildings, rattling shelves, trembling chandeliers, cupboards opening and dishes and glasses falling to the floor. The kind of thing you see on the TV. The kind of thing you don't ever expect to witness. No one expects a disaster like that to strike out of the blue, but that's the way it is. There is no one to warn you, no one who can.

You didn't go to dinner. You told Namjoon not to wait for you, you would eat later. Climbing down the stairs, you stopped in front of the door and knocked. The reply was the same and Yoongi opened the door like every time.

Every room had a medical kit in the bathroom, the one in this had to be restocked twice in the past few days.

Hoseok gave you a small smile and extended his broken arm. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you started telling him of the time you had spent in the Caribbean Sea. You had stayed there for a few months and had spent most of that time in Jamaica and Puerto Rico. The sandy beaches, the endless turquoise sea and the colorful houses didn't fail to bring a smile to your face. The people had been welcoming and kind, eager to help with any problems production faced. They invited you to nights full of dancing and music and included you in everything like you belonged there.

The movie you had filmed wasn't one of your biggest hits. It wasn't nominated for an Oscar and although it did earn much recognition and was played at multiple international film festivals, it wasn't as successful as your other films. But it was the most fun you had had filming. The actors were incredible both at their job and out of it. You had spent some of the best nights of your life there.

As you fastened the splint in place around Hoseok's arm, you told him of the night they had lit large bonfires along the beach and all the people in the area had gathered around to have a few drinks and dance. Your mind, however, wasn't on the story. A fractured arm and a rib wasn't something you should be treating at home. It didn't matter how many first aid classes you had attended, a lot of things could go wrong. But it was either this or nothing. When you had suggested taking Hoseok to the hospital, Yoongi had almost bitten your head off.

Hoseok was laying back against the pillows with his eyes clothes when you were done. He was doing better. Having regular meals and being able to wash made the improvement more evident. He didn't complain when you were treating him but you could see his eyes clenching shut when you were applying salve to the most tender spots. The stories helped. They distracted him and you could work easier. He rarely spoke but lately he had been brave enough to voice any questions he had and you had readily answered him. Progress. Progress you hoped wouldn't halt now.

"This is it for today," you said, rubbing your hands together and getting up. "In a few days you won't have any trouble moving around on your own. Not anything too strenuous, though, no running or jumping around."

"Thank you." Hoseok spoke softly, like being any louder would break an unspoken rule. Like it would get him punished.

Yoongi was sitting on the chaise lounge by the glass wall, facing away from you. The fire pits were lit all the way along the balconies, flames licking up the darkness of the night. He didn't look at you while you were there, only stealing glances when he thought you weren't looking. When his eyes met yours he would scowl and look away.

"There is something I wanted to tell you," you started. You didn't know how else to say it so you jumped in head first. "I was called to Virginia for work. I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow." Yoongi's back stiffened, his tail stilling in the air. Hoseok's eyes turned impossibly wide. "I don't know yet how long I will stay there but it will be some time before I can come back. I thought you should know because I won't be able to treat you."

Yoongi huffed. "Who will be our caretaker then?"

You paused by the door. "Do you think you need one?"

"Is this a joke?" Yoongi's fists clenched. There was no blood on them anymore.

It wasn’t a secret that hybrids were treated like pets, that included having someone babysit them when the owner was gone. You had been through it before when you had left for New York shortly after you had adopted Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook. Everyone had expected you to ask someone to take care of them. You hadn’t. They could take care of themselves and each other just fine.

It was the same now.

“If you think you need a caretaker I can hire one for you, but I doubt you do,” you said. “I think you can survive in the Castle without me for a few days. If I’m gone for longer than a week, Helen my housekeeper will come over to do some cleaning. She usually comes over a few times a week. And the gardener comes by quite often. ”

Yoongi looked stunned but schooled his features quickly. Hoseok’s ears were pinned against his head. You closed the door behind you.

Why did your work’s timing had to always be that bad?

An earthquake. A fucking earthquake.

In the kitchen, the table was served. The mouthwatering smell of the food drifted in the air. Jimin, Namjoon and Jin were sitting around the table, Jungkook absent once again. No one had touched their plates.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” you said taking your seat. Your plate was filled with a generous slice of meat pie and fresh salad. Your stomach grumbled. You hadn’t noticed you were that hungry.

“We wanted to wait for you.” Jimin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, it hadn’t since the day he had come running to you, begging you to take him with you to work. Jungkook spent most of his time at the atelier and he slept in Jin’s room at night. Every time he didn’t show up for meals, the light in Jimin’s eyes dimmed further.

You picked up your fork and knife and cut into the pie. The taste was heavenly, not that you had expected anything else from Jin. You told him so and delighted in the way he got flushed and tried to cover it by a terrible joke he must have come up with on the spot. While you ate, you didn’t speak much, thinking about the best way to bring up the news crawling up your throat. Namjoon squeezed your hand under the table.

When your plates were empty and Jimin was laying his head on Jin’s shoulder, you decided it was time. You put your fork aside. You started by the email, the email that had looked so inconspicuous at first because you received emails like that all the time. An email labeled “important” was often not as important as the people sending it thought it was. You couldn’t have guessed what it contained inside. You hadn’t been prepared.

Your leg was moving up and down on the metal foothold of the stool, mimicking your racing heartbeat. An earthquake had struck Virginia at night. You repeated the dry words of the email, of someone who hadn’t felt the terror of the earth shaking underneath their feet. Five point six Richter, strong enough to knock down the sets they had been building for months. You were required to be there in two days.

Jimin’s bottom lip was trembling. “How long will you stay?”

You shook your head. It was the same question you were asking and had no answers for. Even if you called someone in the company they wouldn’t have anything but speculations for you. “I hope no more than a week.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Jin asked. “What if there are aftershocks, or if it was a warning for a larger one coming?”

Jin’s question brought an dreadful shine to Jimin’s eyes. You had thought of that as well but your mind was troubled already as it was. Questions of your safety would take this too far. For once, you didn’t trust the company you were working with to keep you safe. You would have to do research before you left and take all the necessary precautions. You wouldn’t risk it like they had.

Namjoon wrapped his hand around his glass but didn’t bring it to his lips. “John will be with her. They will be alright.” It didn’t calm down Jimin who hugged himself tightly, dropping his head to his chest.

You couldn’t watch him suffering anymore. Getting up, you walked to him and hugged his from behind, prying his hands away so they were over yours instead. “I promise I’ll call you every day and we will text. It’s like when I was in New York and you texted me every day about what you got up to and what you were thinking. Your texts made me forget all about work and how tired I was.” Jimin sniffled but his cheeks remained dry. “It’s only a few days. They’ll be over soon. You won’t be alone here.”

Jin ruffled Jimin’s hair and the cat hybrid wrapped one arm around the oldest, pulling him into the hug. You placed a kiss on both their head, making Jin flush again. He wasn’t used to physical attention the way Jimin was but he craved it too and you were trying to make sure he felt as loved as he was.

Namjoon held Jimin while you and Jin cleaned the table. He grabbed Jimin’s thighs lifting him up and carried him to the living room. The younger laughed all the way there, telling him to put him down. His tight hold around Namjoon’s neck told him a very different thing.

But you weren’t done yet. You had one more person to tell.

The atelier’s door was half open. You knocked once on the wood before opening it all the way. The room could be described as an organized mess. Two canvases were set up in the middle of the room and three half-finished ones stood against the cabinets. The floor was covered in newspapers splattered with all the colors of the rainbow and paint tubes were lined on the tables in no particular order.

“I finished dinner, you can take it,” he said, gesturing to the tray on one of the tables with the hand not holding a brush.

“That isn’t why I’m here.” One of his ears perked up as you walked closer. The canvas he was working on now was a blend of shades of purple, orange and yellow with no definitive details. “What are you painting.”

He shrugged. “Don’t know yet.” Moving forward with no destination. You knew how that felt.

Jungkook hadn’t distanced himself just from Jimin but from everyone. He didn’t run to you to hug you and scent you when you came back like he used to do. He didn’t come up to the living room to watch TV and talk until you were too exhausted to keep your eyes open. He didn’t show you his progress on the paintings. He didn’t annoy Jin while he cooked (the oldest liked it even if complained). He didn’t come to meals. Meals were family time.

Being in the atelier now was different to any other time. It was the stifling feeling of an empty page, which used to be ecstasy. It was wrong, something missing.

“I have to leave for Virginia the day after tomorrow,” you said, ripping the band-aid off. The times you had said it today were too many. Surprised doe eyes turned to you. You explained the story once again and waited.

Jungkook seemed to be bracing himself for something. “Can you take me with you?”

“Take you with me?” you repeated, dumbfounded.

He nodded. The brush he had been holding had fallen to the floor at some point painting the newspapers in a shock of deep purple. Neither of you had noticed. “I won’t bother you. I’ll listen to everything you say. You can leave me at the hotel. I won’t cause any trouble, no one will know I’m there.” He lowered his head. “I need to be away from here.”

“Jungkook…” Your hand touched his cheek and you felt the way he clenched his jaw under the touch. “If this is-”

“Don’t,” he begged, pulling away. A pained desperation coloring his voice. “You don’t know what I did. If you did-” He took a sharp breath. “Can I come with you? Please.”

Stifling. You hadn’t considered taking any of the hybrids with you now. You had planned on inviting them along when you would go there for filming, a much more fun part of your job. This would be a busy trip and most likely far from enjoyable. It could be dangerous. But Jungkook’s eyes were begging you. He was fading away locked up in the atelier avoiding everyone.

“Okay. If you really want to, you can come with me. I’ll help you pack the essentials,” you said. Jungkook visibly relaxed. Maybe you should have pressed more. Insisted on him speaking with Jimin before you left or after you came back. But you were exhausted and a headache was brewing behind your temples.

Jungkook glanced at a canvas covered with a white sheet at a corner. You’d let it go for now.

When Jimin sneaked into your room late into the night, you didn’t say anything pulling up the covers in a silent invitation. Jimin crawled underneath and hid in your arms. Against every expectation you fell asleep. Orange bottle untouched in the bathroom cabinet.

The days leading up to your departure were every kind of hectic. Panic had taken over the studios and the atmosphere was tense in every meeting. No one wanted to admit the colossal mistake that could have cost the lives of so many people. The press was another matter entirely. The project could get a bad reputation before it was aired. It was emotionally exhausting, your brain working in overdrive, coming up with solutions to problems that may or may not arise. You had to be prepared for the worst.

At home it wasn’t much better. You had started packing for the weird end-of-spring weather in Virginia. The Raven Cycle books and a little research had provided you with enough information about what to expect. Dry, warm and with a possibility of thunderstorms. It could also get cold at night so you made sure to pack a few sweatshirts.

You helped Jungkook pack his things in a similar way. He had a habit of wearing long sleeves even when it was hot so you packed a few more sweatshirts and hoodies for him. He continued not talking much but he looked calmer now that you were leaving. All you wanted to do was hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright. But you didn’t think that would be welcome.

Jimin had timidly offered to take care of Hoseok’s injuries while you were gone. You hesitated at first. While they had been here Jimin and Yoongi hadn’t interacted much. You had expected they would talk, figure out the strange tension between them, but they had kept to themselves. You gave in in the end. The worst had come and passed and you trusted Jimin to provide the basic care Hoseok needed.

He came with you to their room before dinner and you explained to him what you were doing. Hoseok was a little more withdrawn than usual but he didn’t protest, smiling at Jimin.

You had a long talk with Namjoon in your office the night before the day you were scheduled to leave. There were a lot of things to talk about and you tried to get everything out. All your worries and all the things you thought he should know. When you were spent and his reassurances were buried deep in your chest, he brought you close to him, rubbing his face in your neck. He places light kissed on your skin, his lips trailing up until they were touching yours.

The house was silent. You opened your eyes blearily, staring at your phone. The ringing of the alarm had stopped, leaving large numbers reading the time on the screen. The blinds were closed hiding the morning from you.

There was a weight on your chest. You looked down to find tired eyes staring up at you. Jimin made a small sound in the back of his throat and nuzzled against you. His blond hair was soft against your fingers as you combed through it. A loud purr escaped him as you scratched the base of his cat ears. He held on to you tighter but the alarm was clear, you needed to get up and get ready. You had a flight to catch.

“No, don’t go,” Jimin whined.

You massaged his head down to his neck. “I have to get up. I’ll miss the plane if I’m late.”

In the shadows of the room you could see the pout on his full lips. “What if you miss it?”

“If I miss it, I’ll get in trouble. And I’d rather not get in trouble.” Jimin snuggled closer to you and you could smell the vanilla shampoo he loved. Mia had said in the early days that she had smelt vanilla and muffins on you and you had guessed that was Jimin’s scent. The shampoo must serve to accentuate his natural scent.

His cat ears lowered as his tail wrapped around your bare leg. You suppressed a shudder at the feeling of the soft fur against your skin. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I know, that’s why I have to go.” You untangled yourself from the hybrid and pressed the button for the blinds to retreat. The morning light spilled into the room. It caught on Jimin’s curls painting them golden. You had an urge to capture the moment with your camera, the way he looked so soft, hair mussed and eyes still dreaming. Carving the image in your memory, you walked to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the day.

Getting dressed for a flight was different than getting dressed for any other work day. You liked to wear something comfortable that wouldn’t look too bad on camera. You weren’t the kind of celebrity to get mobbed every time you went out but sometimes paparazzi could get wind of where you were going and show up at the airport. When you were traveling for premieres or events, fans and paparazzi would fill the place.

The previous night you had set aside a pair of loose black pants and a red top. You would also take your leather jacket with you because it could get chilly on the plane.

Jimin, wearing his stripped white and blue pajamas with the little pink hearts, clung to you like a koala all the way to breakfast. He only let go of you when you placed your large black bag on the floor and took a seat at the kitchen island. Jin was finishing up with cooking, taking the pots off the stove. Breakfast was almost ready.

John would be coming later to drive you to the airport. The black SUV had turned into a sign you would be traveling. Because of the sheer volume of the luggage you always ended up with, a large car was needed to drive you to and from the airport. This time you had packed two suitcases and your handbag. You had been tempted to fill a sac-voyage as well but you quickly abandoned the thought.

Namjoon arrived, looking wide awake. The opposite of Jimin and his drooping eyes. Only one was missing. And you weren’t compromising today.

“Jungkook?” you asked. The others exchanged a glance. It told you enough. “I’m going to go get him. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Their gazes followed you as you left. They probably didn’t believe you could get him to come up. And any other day that could have been the case.

The door of the atelier was closed but you were sure Jungkook was inside. The amount of time he had been spending in there was unhealthy but you were the last person who could judge him, having spent the majority of your so called break in your office. You knocked three times before opening the door.

Jungkook was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, lost in a place that used to scream comfort. Did it still? You couldn’t feel it anymore. The canvases were all in their places and the paints and brushes had been tidied up. Sitting on the paint splattered newspapers in his completely black clothes, Jungkook looked lost.

“We’re having breakfast upstairs,” you said.

Jungkook’s eyes cleared, just enough for most of the fog to disappear. One bunny ear drooped down and he swiped it away from his face. “Can’t Jin bring it to me?”

You shook your head. “Jin isn’t bringing anything to you. You will be coming to breakfast and eat with us like you used to.”

He lowered his head, both ears falling in his face. “I can’t.”

“You very much can and you will.” You tried to be gentle but you were firm on this. “You will come up and we will all eat breakfast together. We are leaving in a few hours for the other side of the United States and I have no idea when we will be back. You aren’t doing anything here and everyone wants to see you and spend some time together.”

“Not everyone.” It was so low he probably hadn’t meant for you to hear.

“Everyone,” you said, kneeling by his side. “Everyone wants to see you.” You brushed his bangs off his face, petting his ears in the process. He didn’t relax the way he usually did, melting in your hands, but he did lean into the touch. “One breakfast. That’s all I’m asking for. You said you’d listen to me if I took you with me to Virginia.”

He couldn’t disagree with that and when you offered him your hand he took it.

Jungkook and Jimin had had a special bond. That first night you had seen it in the way Jimin cried begging you to help Jungkook, to heal him. You had seen it in the way Jungkook, beat up and having trouble breathing, was asking Jimin if he was injured, if he needed to be treated first and Jimin had cried every time Jungkook flinched but smiled and squeezed his hand to ease the pain. Nothing had changed the longer you spent with them, the way they loved and cared for each other only becoming more apparent.

Jungkook had gone to Namjoon crying, saying he had hurt Jimin but you couldn’t imagine him doing anything but loving him. Misunderstandings preyed on everyone and they were hungry for those who loved each other. They would get through it, you assured yourself. They were strong and they cared too much to continue hurting each other like this. You cared too much too, you wouldn’t let this get out of hand.

They needed a break, that’s what it was. Jungkook had been right, the trip would help put some distance between them to think clearer. You would make sure when you returned they would be ready to face whatever had happened between them.

Jimin lit up at seeing Jungkook but the light dimmed when the younger didn’t even glance his way. You sighed into your orange juice.

After breakfast Jungkook carried up his suitcase while you went to another room. Three knocks and a question of who it was. It had become routine. Hoseok smiled at you, he had been doing that more and more.

You sat down at the side of the bed, Yoongi watching you from the chaise lounge, his ears standing alert. “I’m just here to check on you one last time before I go. Jimin will take over after this.”

Hoseok was sitting with his back against the headboard. He hadn’t been able to do that without hurting the first days. “When will you be leaving?”

Touching his arm to inspect it, you said, “John will be here in about thirty minutes but the flight isn’t for another two hours. We have to be early at the airport because the process to get on the plane takes a long time. Do you want to hear about the first time I got on a plane? That’s a funny story.”

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically so you started recounting the time you were sixteen and you had to take a plane to get to the film festival that was held in France. The short film you had directed would be played there. The only problem was that you had never been on a plane before and the prospect of flying wasn’t appealing to you in the least. It just happened that the flight was far from calm.

The check up was finished halfway through the story but Hoseok touched your arm, wordlessly asking you to finish it. At your arrival in France Hoseok’s smile dissolved.

“I have to get going, John will be here soon,” you said getting up. Hoseok had met John only after you had told him of the time both of you had gotten lost in London. John had been insisting he knew what he was doing leading you deeper into the maze of streets. Because of that a few more stories the bodyguard had guest-starred in, the fox hybrid hadn’t looked as terrified as some people did at the side of the giant of a bodyguard.

“Thank you for,” he gestured to himself “this. And the stories. Thank you for the stories.”

You stopped by the door. “It was my pleasure.”

John was at the Castle right on time, parking the SUV close to the front door. He helped you carry everything to the car, which meant he carried the three suitcases while Jungkook insisted he could help. The bunny hybrid did help but only because John took pity on him and let him help with putting the suitcases in the trunk.

You lowered your sunglasses. No wind and no cloud in sight. You would have a calm trip.

You hugged all the hybrids, letting them scent you. Jimin’s eyes were growing misty and you hugged him extra hard assuring him you would be back soon. You rubbed your forehead against Jin’s and kissed his cheek in goodbye, his skin warming up under your lips. Goodbyes were hard and you’d thought you’d gotten used to them. Saying goodbye to Taylor and Zayn before tours, to your aunt the rare times you could visit her, to your friends, to the actors and the crew.

And yet your chest was tight.

Namjoon was talking with John by the car and you heard him asking John to take care of you and Jungkook. John replied he would protect you with his life. John was your bodyguard but this had been more than a job to him for a long time.

From the corner of your eye you saw Jimin approach Jungkook. He reached to touch him, hug him. Jungkook flinched. Jimin’s hand hovered in the air before going limp. He backed away, his chin dropping to his chest and jaw trembling.

You bit the inside of your cheek. A hand landed on your shoulder and you turned to find Namjoon standing next to you. You weren’t the only one who had watched the youngests’ exchange. You hid in his arms, forgetting about the world for a moment. The two hybrids who loved each other too much, the trip you had to take, production being halted, that godforsaken earthquake. He nosed along your neck, his warm breath tingling your skin.

Jungkook got into the car first, an escape, and you followed soon after, a necessity. The house got smaller and smaller behind you as the car drove away. The Castle fading in the distance. Another trip. Different reasons, a different disaster, but familiar territory. Once you used to be excited about these trips, exploring a new place and living new experiences. Where had that part of yourself gone?

But you weren’t alone this time. Jungkook was looking out of the window, his head laying against the glass. You would take him to that yogurt shop you had liked so much and you would show him the park you wanted to film at and take him to that endearing small cinema. Yeah, you would do that.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The hotel towered over the rest of the buildings in the area. It wasn’t the same one you had stayed on your first visit last year, more grand and definitely more expensive. The company had gone all out. An admirable attempt to quell your anger, yet it continued simmering underbeath your skin. A young man was waiting for you outside, taking the suitcases from the car and leading you to the lobby.

Jungkook looked around with wide eyes and an open mouth. There was so much glass and marble, almost everything was made using these two materials.

The receptionist smiled at you wide, her teeth white and straight like her uniform. She welcomed you to the hotel and handed you two key cards, white with a gold line on front and the room numbers in cursive. Two cards.

“I was sure I’d forgotten something,” you muttered.

The receptionist’s smile faltered. “Is something not to your liking, miss?”

Two cards. One for your room and one for John’s. You had notified the company about Jungkook accompanying you but you hadn’t requested another room. Granted, you had thought they would come to the conclusion on their own. One more room would have cost them a lot, though. Easy way out. But you couldn’t exactly blame them. At hotels, owners rarely bothered to spend money on a room for their hybrids.

You held the cards like a magician ready to do a trick, showing them to John.

“Shouldn’t there be one more?” he asked.

The woman behind the desk blinked a few times. “More? Two rooms were booked in the name Y/N Y/L/N. Is there a problem?”

You sighed. “No, I guess there isn’t. Or there wasn’t supposed to be.” Jungkook watched the exchange shifting from foot to foot. His black hoodie was a size too big and he was drowning in it. “Do you have any available rooms in the same floor.”

“I’m afraid we don’t, miss. The rooms on the top floor are all booked for the night.”

“Great.” You couldn’t think of another solution, you would have to make do. “Thank you. We’ll be going now.”

“Have a nice stay,” the receptionist said.

The elevator was as luxurious as the lobby, a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. John had your black bag slung over his shoulder. The man with your suitcases was already gone, you would find them in your rooms when you arrived. There was a mirror to your left and leaning your back against the wall your gazed at your reflection. With your black circles hidden with concealer and carefully applied makeup, you looked just a little tired from the flight. You had brushed your hair on the plane and it fell in waves over your shoulders, curling at the tips.

Jungkook hadn’t been to a hotel before and it showed as he tried to take everything in. The lights that were on even in the afternoon, the golds and whites, the mirrors and glass and the velvet seats. It was wonderful but still it wasn’t the best hotel you had stayed at.

The elevator’s doors opened with a ding and you walked into the well-lit corridors. Doors were on either side with a sitting area at the front. You had stayed in many hotels over the years but they were nothing more than a place for rest. Sleep and shower, that’s all you did in your room. And sometimes breakfast or dinner if you didn’t feel like going out.

Stopping in front of a white door, you checked the numbers on the cards again. The two rooms were very close, only a few meters distance from each other.

Two rooms. Right.

You handed John his key card. “So, we’ve got two rooms…” Jungkook looked at you curiously. “I hope you don’t mind staying in my room with me for now. Unless you would prefer staying with John and his snoring.”

John pointed a finger at you. “Hey, I don’t snore.”

You hummed. “Sure you don’t. What I have been hearing all those years must be the pigs outside.”

Jungkook was trying to hide his laughter behind his hand and doing a poor job of it.

John dropped your bag by your feet. “Do you hear her? No respect for me. That’s what I get for listening to your every whim for years. I’ll go to my room now and snore in peace.”

You giggled as John struggled to swipe the key card right. With an ‘aha’, he managed to open the door and get inside. You swiped your own card, the door clicking open at the first try. Both of you had been doing it for years but John was more of a fan of traditional keys.

The company had booked a suite for you, which you guessed was one of the best in the hotel. The door opened to a grand living room with white velvet couches and armchairs and a 75 inch TV. You took off your sneakers before stepping on the wool carpet, it was white with veins of gold running through it.

You fell on the couch, taking off your backpack and placing it on the floor. “I’m sorry for this, I thought they would book three rooms for us.”

Jungkook looked at you from where he was still standing by the door, his hands pulling at the straps of his backpack. “Why would they book three rooms?” There was a gap here. Hybrids stayed with their owners, that was the norm. You realized that was what he had expected.

“We are three people. I thought you would want your own room. I told them you would be coming with me for the tickets but they didn’t change the rooms they had booked.” You threw your head back and closed your eyes. “Everything is going so well already.”

There a shuffling of feet from the door. “I thought… I can stay with John if he doesn’t mind or… I can…”

You opened your eyes. Jungkook was looking at the floor, his ears drooped at the sides of his head. “What are you talking about?”

Jungkook hugged himself. “I don’t want to bother you.”

And it clicked. You got up from the couch. “Oh, bunny. You aren’t bothering me. I only wanted one more room because I thought that’s what you wanted, that you wanted your own space.” You didn’t touch him, remembering him flinching and pulling away, but you stayed close to show him you were there for him.

“Oh, I-” He flushed, not knowing what to say. You had been past that stage and it was unfortunate to see the shyness and hesitance come back.

“Come on, take off your shoes,” you said, motioning for him to come further into the room. “I desperately need a shower. Then we can rest. I don’t have to do anything until late tonight. Do you want to go in first?”

Jungkook sat down gingerly on the couch. “No, no, you can go in first. I think I’ll sleep a little.”

You stopped him before he could lay down. “Here?”

Confused, he looked around at the furniture. “Should I take the smaller couch?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said. “But there is a huge bed in the bedroom. If you feel uncomfortable though, I could take the couch.”

Jungkook shot up at that. “No, no way. You have work, you should sleep in the bed.” The redness creeped into his cheeks again. “I would like… I would like to share, if that’s alright.”

You gave him a smile. “That’s more than alright. Come in, then.”

You were planning to make the most out of this trip.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Jimin had memorized everything you had said about checking and treating Hoseok’s injuries. He had memorized the pills he was taking, the salves you used and the times you checked on him during the day. Before you left, he had even looked up all the injuries Hoseok had on Google and read all the information he could find. You had told him Hoseok was well on his way to recovery and he didn’t have to worry much. But he was worried. He was very worried.

He had thought he had been ready, that he could do this. But standing outside their door, second thoughts were smothering him.

What if he did something wrong and he hurt him? What if he made everything worse? If he pressed too hard, if he used the wrong cream, if he wrapped the bandages wrong…

Seokjin would have been much better at this. He took care of them like a parent, he would have been a better choice than Jimin. But Seokjin was the one to cook all their meals, he had enough on his plate. Yoongi could have done it but… He had only glared at you and sneered something that sounded very much like a refusal.

Yoongi…

He hadn’t talked to him since the day he had chased him to the alleyway. The older didn’t leave the room he shared with Hoseok unless it was absolutely necessary. Jimin didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t this… This stasis they were trapped in. He had expected someone yelling, accusing. Sharp words, that didn’t match the soft voice he had been used to. There had been none of that. Nothing at all. He wasn’t sure what he preferred.

Hoseok smiled a little at him when he walked into the room. He was sitting up in his bed with his reddish tail in his lap. Yoongi, laying in his own bed, didn’t acknowledge him but his dark eyes were burning Jimin’s skin when he wasn’t looking.

Hoseok patted the bed with the hand that wasn’t in a cast. His smile was smaller than it had been in the morning. Your absence wasn’t affecting only them. Jimin had heard you telling stories to Hoseok, you had done the same with Jungkook. But he had no stories to tell, nothing worth sharing. He hadn’t traveled the world, he didn’t have interesting and famous friends, he didn’t have a job or childhood memories by the beach.

Silence spread, only broken by his apologies every time Hoseok winced. He was holding back for his sake and it made his stomach clench. He left the room like there were hell-hounds on his heels.

The second day you were gone everyone woke up early in the morning, like all the days they had to be up early to see you before leaving for work. You might not be there but his body demanded he wake up and drag his feet upstairs for breakfast. A book was laying cover up on the table. One of the leather-bound classics you kept on the top shelves of the library. Namjoon read it at night before going to sleep.

Seokjin placed a plate of pancakes in front of Jimin. Pancakes were his favorite.

Belly full, he trudged to the second level.

“Good morning,” he greeted, coming through the door.

Hoseok’s fox ears twitched. “Good morning,” he said with a small smile. Yoongi remained silent, standing by the glass wall.

Jimin fetched the medical kit from the bathroom. Everything he would need was in there. “Did you sleep well?” He tried to make conversation. It wasn’t easy when he felt like he could erupt at any moment with Yoongi’s gaze on him. If he hurt Hoseok, Yoongi would never look at him again. Or he could do so much worse. But Jimin had already lost him years ago.

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied, fumbling with the blanket he was sitting on. “I had a weird dream. About being at the lake. There was a statue there and he was talking… It was good, though.”

There was a small Greek style statue on the half-empty shelves of the room, a Kouros you had explained to him. “It must be because of that.” Jimin motioned to the shelves. “There are pieces of ancient Greece all over the house. The first show Y/N directed was about Persephone and Hades, the Greek god of the dead. Greek mythology has a special place for her.”

“She talked to me about Greece a little but she didn’t say anything about the show,” Hoseok said.

Jimin opened the medical kit, remembering watching the episodes one after the next, hanging from every word the characters said. “The show is so good! I couldn’t stop watching it, I didn’t want to get out of the cinema room for anything. The characters were perfect, Persephone was so sweet and kind but she-” He stopped himself, cutting off his rambling. The cream in his hand was getting warm.

Hoseok sat up straighter to help his work. “But what? Why did you stop?”

Jimin startled. He could at least do this, he could speak about the show. He had watched the episodes multiple times and he had asked you so many questions, some of which you hadn’t talked your way around. Hoseok didn’t wince as much as the first time and maybe Jimin go a little carried away, but he didn’t make any mistakes and Hoseok even asked questions and talked with him.

The cat hybrid had to suppress the shivers the eyes on his back sent down his spine.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Greek gods, fantasy, romance and mysteries. That’s what made you rich. That’s what got you this huge house and more money than anyone would ever see in their lives. The Castle. Yoongi scoffed. What a pretentious name for an even more pretentious house, but that was the way it worked.

Yoongi disliked rich people on principle. Privileged, arrogant and self-entitled were only a few of the adjectives he would use to describe them. They thought they could control anyone because they had money and money made the world go round. Money could get you everything and that’s what they wanted. Everything. In long coats and designer sunglasses looking for entertainment in the most dubious places, feeding off the struggle of the others. Watching enraptured as others fought for their lives.

All of them were the same. It didn’t matter if they were hiding behind smiling masks or surface philanthropic acts. They were the same. And you were just like them. He refused to believe anything else. Despite how hard it was getting. But every time he was slipping, he would remember the pleads and rough hands. His resolve didn’t crack.

He heard all the stories you told Hoseok. Not that he wanted to but there wasn’t a chance he would leave him alone with you. Most of them were funny and although he didn’t want to admit, there were parts the corners of his mouth had lifted up without his permission. He was grateful for those stories, they made Hoseok forget. One rare time, when you were telling him about a disaster on set that involved three spoons, a maraca and a lost script, Hoseok had giggled and Yoongi’s heart had come close to bursting out.

Every morning and every night you would have a different story for him and it made Yoongi wonder if they were all true or if you were coming up with them on the spot. Not that it mattered, it made Hoseok smile and that was enough. Yoongi had found himself waiting for the times you would come into their room and start talking. You had a way with words.

And now you were gone, leaving them alone in the house, alone with no one watching over them like a guard dog (except that damned wolf hybrid, but that was another case entirely). There were a few things he knew about the world and one of them was that hybrids weren’t left alone in a house that cost more than his handlers would make in their whole lives. He didn’t like surprises and he hated how full of them you were.

Jimin had been the one to take over and you must have been somewhere in Virginia laughing at Yoongi’s expense. The younger looked good, his cheeks were full and there was a certain glow on his soft skin. Jimin had always looked beautiful but now he was ethereal. He couldn’t keep his eyes away.

Hoseok pressed a few buttons on the TV remote and groaned. After Jimin’s excitement about the show in the morning, he had decided he would watch the show. Jimin had showed him how to put it on but Hoseok was having some trouble.

“Give that to me,” Yoongi grumbled, taking the remote. He searched for the title among the options (there were too many of them).

Hoseok pointed at one of the pictures. “That’s it! That’s it! “Land of the Gods”.”

A girl wearing a flower crown was gazing at him from the screen. He clicked on the picture and the synopsis and the episode list appeared. “Are you seriously going to watch that?”

“It must be good if Jimin was so excited about it. He was so excited he got me excited.” A smile stretched his lips. Yoongi was weak.

“What do you know about Greek mythology?”

Hoseok shrugged. “Not much but I don’t think I need to. The show has to be good if it got her where she is now. I’m sure she must have been great at her job to be this successful.”

If anything, there was no doubt you were successful. He could see it everywhere he looked. One night he had been watching the news, Hoseok long asleep, and they had talked about your newest project set to start filming in May. One of the greatest directors of our generation, they had called you, predicting high ratings and large audiences. But success didn’t necessarily mean talent and Yoongi told himself he didn’t care enough to see if you had it.

Contemplating, he sat on the bed by Hoseok’s side. “We should discuss when we are leaving.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened, his tail fluffing up. “Leaving?”

“Yeah, leaving. You’re better, aren’t you? We should be gone before she comes back.” Yoongi threw the remote on the bed.

“Oh.” Hoseok’s fox ears lowered. “I wanted to thank her, it feels wrong to leave like this.”

Yoongi sighed. He could understand Hoseok, he didn’t want to leave either. He wasn’t stupid. Having a warm meal three times a day was more than they could dream of in the streets. It was more than they could dream of when they had a roof over their heads and murky water on their tongues. These few days Yoongi had eaten and slept more than he had in three years but it had to end. It was nothing more than a polished dream. He didn’t want your pity and he wouldn’t have accepted to come here if it hadn’t been for Hoseok.

“I think she would appreciate us leaving more than a thank you,” Yoongi said. “We don’t know how long she will be gone and we have already overstayed our welcome.”

“We… yeah.” Hoseok gave in. “But you should talk to Jimin before we go.” Yoongi stiffened. “I have seen the way you look at him, you know. I heard you that first day. He is the only reason we are here now. I can connect the dots. I don’t ask you about your past because I know it hurts you but I ask you this. Talk to him before we go. Jimin… Jimin looks like a part of your past that shouldn’t hurt this much.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw. Because Jimin was the most painful part of his past. Everything that had happened to him, everything he had been through didn’t hold anything to the pain he felt when thinking about Jimin and his delicate features. Nothing hurt more than the images of that night ingrained in his brain. He didn’t deserve to forget, he didn’t even try.

“I can’t talk to him.”

Hoseok scooted closer and Yoongi reached to steady him. The fox hybrid would laugh at him, he had the all clear to move on his own and he didn’t need help with something as simple as this, but he didn’t push him away. “Why not?

“I just can’t.” Hoseok raised his eyebrows at him. “Hobi, just let it go. Jimin wouldn’t want to talk to me, there is too much you don’t know.”

Hoseok turned his head away. “Yes, because you don’t tell me.”

“Hobi…” Yoongi placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles, there were no bruises there. “What happened, it’s better if you don’t know. I don’t want any more people being haunted by what I did.”

Hoseok’s eyes softened, taking Yoongi’s hands in his own. Every touch from Hoseok was like a brush with the sun. “If you think anything you say could change my opinion of you, you don’t know me at all. You saved me, Yoongi. You saved me when I thought I was done for, when I thought I wouldn’t live to see another day. If you weren’t there, if I didn’t have you…” A shaky breath fell past his lips. He squeezed Yoongi’s hands in his and Yoongi squeezed back. “I would have never gotten out without you. You are all I have.”

Yoongi touched Hoseok’s cheek, nosing against his neck and breathing in the scent of cinnamon. “And you’re all I have.”

The first episode of “Land of the Gods” played as Yoongi laid next to Hoseok with the younger’s head on his chest.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The workers kept looking at you like children who had been caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar and it wasn’t even their fault. They had been following instructions and using the materials the company had sent. The one who had decided to forgo the safety measures because they were too expensive had yet to admit to anything, but a storm was brewing and you would watch until the end. They could say whatever they wanted about you but no one’s life was at risk on your watch.

You hadn’t been alone in the sentiment, most of your co-workers siding with you and calling meetings after meetings on the matter. You had taken it up to yourself to send a lengthy email to the president and were waiting for a reply that wouldn’t take long to come.

In the meantime, you were stuck with damage control. The meticulously designed sets had turned into ruins and rubble. A lot of expensive equipment had been destroyed and the replacements had yet to arrive. The first night you had a short meeting at a building the company was renting and then drove to the set to survey the damage. You had gritted your teeth at the sight of broken blocks like legos. There was nothing more to see.

You came back with heavy limbs and dust on your jeans. The air-conditioning was on and Jungkook was sitting on the couch watching a superhero movie. It wasn’t one you recognized, an older one than those you usually watched. You changed into your pajamas after taking a shower for the third time in a day (your skin barrier was set to be destroyed soon) and joined him in the living room. Neither of you had had dinner so you ordered food from the first place you found on the web. The delivery was fast and you settled on the couch, eating pizza and watching an old Samuel L. Jackson film.

Fortunately, the earthquake hadn’t caused any major disasters but you had heard that a couple of people had been injured. The most damage in the area had been to the TV show sets. That was alright, you could work on that.

Your schedule wasn’t much different from usual. You woke up early, the sun peaking over the horizon and showering the room in its morning glow through the thin curtains. Reaching for your phone, you turned off the alarm before it could start ringing. You woke up earlier but you scheduled it every night regardless of that. Jungkook blinked his eyes open as soon as you moved a little, he was used to waking up early too.

At breakfast it was only the two of you, John and the hotel staff. It was way too early for anyone else. Jungkook didn’t leave the hotel and you spent most of the day outside. The first days were the most crucial and therefore the most busy. Go there, take this, fill this out, talk to him/her. An endless task list. And there were a lot of things you had to figure out yourself.

“You should come with me today,” you said, digging your spoon into the bowl of yogurt. You ate a generous breakfast to propel through the morning.

“T-to work?” Jungkook stuttered, his hand loosening around the spoon. He was eating pancakes with maple syrup and you had a feeling about who he was thinking of.

You rolled the spoon between your fingers. “Well, you don’t have to come to work with me. We could drop you off at a coffee shop or a park if you want to. You can’t stay cooped up in the hotel room all day.”

John nodded in agreement. “I think it’s a good idea. You need some fresh air, staying in three rooms can’t be good for you.”

Jungkook dropped his head to hide his flushed cheeks. “I’m alright here, you don’t have to worry about me. Really.”

“But that’s what I’ll do at work if you stay in here for one more day,” you said. “You can go anywhere, there is a whole city to explore. And if I have any breaks I can call and I’ll come find you.”

Jungkook looked down at the pancakes. “I don’t think I should be out alone.”

“Of course you can. You can wear a collar and no one will say anything. We packed a few didn’t-?” Wearing a collar would protect him from the hybrid services, especially with your name and number engraved in the back of a charm. But you realized it wasn’t hybrid services he was afraid of. A hybrid alone in the streets could be an easy target, Jimin and Jungkook had been together that night and still… But it was broad daylight. “John could come with you,” you offered.

“No, no, he should be with you,” Jungkook protested weakly.

You exchanged a look with John, after years you were perfect at reading each other. “I actually think John would have a much better time with you. The only thing he does with me is follow me around and wait for the day to end. And it’s not like I’m in any danger there, I’m surrounded by a lot of people and some of the places have security so…”

“Or she’s trying to get rid of me,” John said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Not that I’m complaining, waiting outside of those meetings gets very boring very quickly. Who will drive you?”

“It won’t be hard to find someone. I’ll catch a ride with Will, he has plenty of space in his car.” Will was the assistant director and he had been dragged to Virginia with you. When you worked it was rare to find one without the other. He had been with you for a few years and he was your right hand on set, he could get everything you asked done in a matter of seconds and often better than you could have done them yourself.

Satisfied, John finished his sandwich. “It’s settled then, I’ll go with the guy while you run around like a mad woman.”

“It isn’t so much running around today,” you mumbled. In comparison to other days, that was.

Jungkook picked up his fork again, his nose twitching. “Thank you, but I really don’t know where to go.”

You smiled. “That’s the most exciting part. There are so many places you can choose from. John knows the area a little, he knows a few places worth visiting.” John saluted with two fingers on his temple. “Is there something you want to do?”

Jungkook shrugged. “The park maybe? I would like to walk a little if that’s alright.”

“Fine by me,” John said. “Let’s reconnect with Mother Nature a little.”

You shook your head. “As if the sets aren’t in the middle of nowhere. They’re like thirty to forty minutes from the city, I spend most of my day in a car.”

“Stop complaining. It’s partly your fault,” John reminded you, which only caused you to complain more.

Jungkook let out a cute giggle at your bickering. He looked small in his oversized hoodie, it was a gray one this time with design of black swirls interwining and forming a heart. He would have to change before going out. He would melt otherwise.

They dropped you off at the set, having spent most of the thirty minute drive (John was a fast driver, always following the speed limit though) listening to music and talking about whatever came to mind. Jungkook had insisted on coming with when John dropped you off instead of waiting at the hotel for John to come back. He didn’t care that the drive would be more than an hour for him. You stepped out of the car, adjusted your backpack with all the papers and files inside and sent flying kisses to them while John rolled his eyes.

It was one of the good days, everyone was in a relatively good mood, they were listening to you and the conversations about the problems you were facing rolled smoothly. Will had taken over some of the most tiring tasks ignoring your protests so you were left to do most of the talking and the moral support part.

They worked quickly but there was no doubt that the sets wouldn’t be ready for filming to start on the initial date you had set, you would have to rely more on the sets in Los Angeles and film some scenes earlier than planned. Time was precious and you couldn’t waste it sitting around doing nothing.

Will was more than happy to give you a ride back to the city, you had many things to discuss on the way. You hadn’t been at this park before. It wasn’t the one you were considering for filming but it was just as nice. John had texted you where they were and you had typed the address in Will’s GPS. It was way past lunch and you wondered if they hadn’t left the park since the morning. That was a lot of hours spent in a park.

You followed the cobblestone path, tall trees framing the way adorned with green leaves and tiny flowers. Sending a quick message to John asking him about more specific directions, you stopped at a bridge arching over a small river and rested your elbows on the railing waiting for the reply.

You missed home in a way you hadn’t before. Home hadn’t always been Los Angeles, it had taken a long time for you to see it that way. It had been your hometown at first and that would always remain a part of you but it had been years since you had stayed there for more than two weeks. Home had been a suitcase and a vague idea of belonging for the most of your adult life. Being at a new place every few months, often more than that, you traveled and met people, you explored new places and learnt their secrets and culture. Los Angeles was just the base you returned to before you were gone again.

And then you had met Taylor and Zayn and suddenly you had a reason to come back other than necessity. They had become your closest friends and you held a new appreciation for the city because that’s where you spent time with them, strolling through the streets and going to the beach or staying inside watching movies or baking.

And through Zayn you had met Jacob and Los Angeles became more and more to you. The two of you had decided to build your life there together. That was gone now but the City of Angels had sneaked into your heart and made a home for itself there. Yet you hadn’t missed it like this before.

Texts and calls were fine for some time but not nearly enough. Jungkook was withdrawn while you talked to the other hybrids and Jimin’s voice got smaller and smaller every time the youngest refused to speak with him until he stopped trying. Namjoon and Jin tried to comfort him but the only person who could help was the one shutting him out. On top of that, Jimin tended to Hoseok’s wounds, the two hybrids were still at the Castle and you hoped they wouldn’t leave until you got back. You wanted to check in with Hoseok one more time before they were gone, back to the streets.

The streets… Those damn streets. Where Hoseok had been beat up, where Jimin and Jungkook had been attacked, where they didn’t know which day would be their last, starving or being beaten to death. You had done all you could, when they refused any more help, but it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough.

A whistle made you turn around.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” John called to you.

“Me?” you called back. “How long have you been here? Did you eat lunch?”

“We went to a restaurant nearby, John ordered the best from the menu. I told him to wait for you but he said you would be late,” Jungkook said.

You ruffled his hair and he shuffled closer to you. “Late… I’m not late, I didn’t say I would be back for lunch.”

Jungkook chuckled. “When are you back for lunch?”

You gasped. “You have been spending too much time with John. He’s corrupting you!”

On the other side of the bridge, the path opened up to a large expanse of grass with a few trees sprinkled in. Jungkook had his sketchpad with him and sat down against a tree with pieces of black charcoal, a method he had been experimenting with.

Next to him, you pulled out a notebook from your backpack, it was your personal space where you could write anything and everything. Drawing faint thick lines on the paper, Jungkook told you excitedly about his day with John, who was sitting at a bench talking on the phone with his family.

A shine you hadn’t seen in a while was back in Jungkook’s eyes. You took photos and sent them to the hybrids at home and rolled around in the grass. He pointed at the clouds and what each of them looked like. There was turtle, an elephant and a vase, although you insisted it looked more like an Egyptian cat.

Jungkook came with you to work later and although he was shy and stayed away from everyone else, trailing behind you like a lost puppy, he was smiling. Fascinated, he listened to your conversations about the show and the sets and admired the designs. Your co-workers cooed at the cute bunny hybrid and he flushed hiding behind you.

When the day was over and you were back at the hotel, you realized it was the most fun you’d had since coming to Virginia. Freshly showered with his wet hair sticking to his forehead, Jungkook slipped into the bed next to you.

“Did you have a good time?” you asked. In the quiet of the night it felt wrong for your voice to be louder than a whisper. “You can be honest with me. I won’t take it personally.”

A small smile simmered on Jungkook’s lips as he turned on his side to look at you. In the lights of the city coming through the window, his chocolate brown eyes seemed black. “I had the best of times. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It was nice having you there, it was… different. A good different. You should come again tomorrow, to the sets outside the city this time.”

“I would like that,” he whispered.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Jungkook repeated in a breath.

It would be nice to have him with you. He wasn’t distracting you, on the contrary you were more focused because you knew he was there watching you, you wanted to show him the best of you. This was far from the most exciting part of the process of making a film but it was necessary. Well, it wouldn’t have been necessary if someone hadn’t decided to purposely forget all about the safety measures but you had already dedicated too much of your energy being angry about it.

Once the actual filming had started you would take Jungkook with you and show him the behind the scenes of how a TV show was made. If he was fascinated with this part then he would love filming. The actors were incredible and they had found their connections to the characters, channeling them at the table readings, it would be even better when they were in the costumes on set.

“I liked it,” Jungkook said. “I really liked seeing you work.”

You smiled at the bunny. “You used to see me work every day at the Castle.”

“But it wasn’t the same.” Jungkook laid his head on his hand. “You looked different there,” he said. “You looked powerful, like you could do anything. Everyone looked at you like you had all the answers.”

“It was a good day, I guess. It isn’t always like that. I might look confident and like I have everything under control all the time but that’s far from the truth.”

For all of your fame and the praise you received, you did make mistakes, you got stuck and felt helpless against some problems. Not everyone listened to you and you got into arguments with the executive producers sometimes. And you weren’t always the one who was right.

“Looking confident is half of the job, even when you don’t feel like it. It’s one of those situations where ‘fake it till you make it’ is a requirement. When you want to be heard you have to look and act like you are sure of what you’re doing, especially when you are a young woman at an important position. If you don’t, people begin to doubt you and if they doubt you, they will begin to talk over you and disregard your opinions. That was the first lesson I learnt on this job.”

At seventeen, you had been in charge of directing “Land of the Gods” and it wasn’t all smooth sailing, much less at the beginning. You were young, too young for most of them. You couldn’t direct such a project they said. They questioned your every move and decision, every correction you made and everything you said to the actors during a scene. They didn’t take you seriously until halfway through filming and even then they didn’t hesitate to question your authority. A constant battle of wills.

But it had gotten you here. You couldn’t complain.

“You’ve done so many things,” Jungkook said as if in awe. “All those shows and movies. And they are all so good. You are so talented. I could have never achieved what you have even if I wasn’t…” He left the sentence hanging.

You adjusted your position, laying on your forearm. “I don’t believe that, I think you would be marvelous at whatever you did. You have the dedication and that’s half of the job done. About me…” You let out a small chuckle. “I was very young when I started, I’m still young considering my profession, and I had so many ideas. I still have so many of them.” Or you used to, before the buzz in your brain became just noise. “And I don’t want to wait so long the industry gets tired of me, I have to take advantage of the light as long as it’s on me.”

“I don’t think they can get tired of you, not when your movies and shows are… like that. I couldn’t get tired of them,” Jungkook said. “It’s just- I’m not-” Frustrated, he cut himself off. “You work too much. I’m just… When was the last time you had a break? An actual break without working in any form.”

You opened your mouth to answer and closed it again. It certainly wasn’t this year and it wasn’t last year either. When you had taken a break to buy and decorate the house, you had been answering calls about work when you had been choosing the paints for the walls and writing scripts while you discussed floor plans. Break for you wasn’t a time you didn’t work but rather a time they couldn’t call you to the offices or the set.

“It’s been a while,” you said in the end. “I’ve got a lot of things going on, I don’t really have the time to take a break. I can’t leave them hanging, they rely on me.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t. Not so much.”

But that’s how it has always been for as long as you could remember. You were involved in every single part of the process, in every decision, from the scripts, to casting, to the set and costume design, to the actual filming, the post-production and the editing. Supervising and making sure that everything was right. That was your charm, that was one of the reasons you were one of the most sought-after directors in Hollywood. Each project was a part of yourself. If you let those responsibilities go, what would that mean for you? What would they say about you?

The air-conditioning made a small sound as the room reached the desired temperature. The setting wasn’t too low, a pleasant coolness replacing the stifling heat. The thick walls of the hotel kept the heat of the day trapped inside, something that would be very beneficial in winter but a lot less so in spring nearing summer.

“Anyway, I think we’ll be done in a few days,” you said. “We’ll probably be home by the end of the week. The new plans have been drawn and there is only one more meeting I have to attend and that’s more for appearances’ sake than anything else. The rest is up to the crew here.”

Jungkook’s smile wavered. “So soon? Don’t you have any more work? The people here seemed to need you.”

“They don’t need me, there is nothing more I can offer them. My place right now is in Los Angeles, that’s where they need me.” You nudged his foot with yours, your knees were close enough to touch every time you moved. “But that’s not what you’re nervous about, is it?”

Jungkook shook his head, hiding half of his face in the pillow. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Kookie…” You nudged his foot again until your legs were intertwined underneath the thin sheets. “Staying here won’t help anyone. You have to talk to him.”

Jungkook closed his eyes as if the conversation pained him. “He shouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“But he does. You know he has been asking for you,” you said.

“He stopped.”

“Because you never replied. Doing this, pulling away and ignoring him, you’re hurting him more than whatever you feel guilty for. You didn’t see how sad he was every time you didn’t show up for a meal or when he called for you and you ignored him. You’re hurting him and I know that isn’t what you want so why do you keep doing it?”

A sob clawed out of Jungkook’s throat and he tried to muffle it with his fist. Your eyes widened at the sound, instinctively pulling the younger boy into your arms. He didn’t fight you, holding on to you like you were the only thing keeping his afloat, hiding his face in your neck as the sobs he couldn’t suppress fell from his lips.

“What… What I did to him was h-horibble. I-I took adva-advantage of him,” Jungkook chocked out as his tears dampened your skin. “And I know, I know he’s going to forgive me. But I don’t want him to. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t forgive-” A sob cut him off. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

You run your hands through his hair, scratching gently at the base of his bunny ears, something that used to calm him down. “Baby… You should let him have that choice, you can’t take it away from him.”

“I can’t forgive myself,” he muttered, desperation and heartbreak seeping into his voice like water through the cracks of a dam until it breaks.

“If Jimin can forgive you then you can work towards forgiving yourself. All I know is that you love each other too much to continue like this.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It was the fifth day you were gone. Seokjin had been keeping track, the equivalent of another line engraved on the wall of a cell. He had been going to sleep and waking up alone in a bed that felt too large for one person. He had added more blankets and stuffed animals decorating embellishing his nest but it did nothing for the feeling of emptiness covering it like a veil.

You called every day and texted them religiously, it was more than he could have expected but much less than what he craved. Jungkook sent photos of the hotel suite and of every place he visited with short captions. Seokjin smiled as his heart constricted.

It was the fifth day you were gone and he was sitting at the large table in the back garden, drinking tea at the time he would have been bringing yours before you had to go back to work. Jin didn’t consider himself a clingy person. He was loyal and protective of the people he loved, he obeyed his past owners and he took care of them. But this was new. It had been five days, the number didn’t change but Jin felt like it had been much longer than that. When his past owners left it wasn’t for long, less than two weeks, he didn’t have the time to miss them. He hadn’t missed them. Two weeks. Five days.

Jungkook would be nagging at him by now, tugging his arm or foot or whatever part of him he could get and if Jin didn’t give in the bunny hybrid would sprawl himself next to the older with his head in his lap. Despite Seokjin warnings about getting splashed with tea or coffee in the face, Jungkook stayed there.

If you were back from work, a rare occurrence, you would insist you all spent that time together. Like a family.

Family. Such a peculiar word. It was one of those words Seokjin couldn’t grasp the real meaning of. He was a hybrid, he didn’t have parents, the one who had given birth to him had delivered him to the scientists earning a large amount of money for her services. His first owners had trained him harsher than a pet and treated him like a servant or a living piece of decor. It didn’t matter if he’d thought of them as his family to feel better for himself, they owned him and they didn’t let him forget.

He didn’t know what having a family felt like. But he guessed it felt a lot like the mornings before you left for work and Jungkook was bickering with Jimin about how much he could eat while Namjoon was smirking into his coffee.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Seokjin startled, the mug trembling dangerously in his hands. Another hand enveloped his to steady it. “How do you do that? I almost had a heart attack.”

Namjoon smiled sheepishly. “You aren’t the first one to say that, about the heart attack. I’ll try to make more noise next time.”

There was only a tiny bit of tea left at the bottom of the mug so Seokjin placed it on the table to avoid any more surprises that could threaten its survival. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, looking at the black backpack Namjoon was wearing.

“I’m going for a walk in the forest. Would you like to join me?”

“Like this?” he gestured to his casual attire.

“Maybe you should wear different shoes,” he said referring to the slippers he was wearing.

Seokjin was tempted to say no, sugar gliders might be native to forests but he didn’t have the same ease among trees. But he was tired of being in his own company and something inside him was screaming to go and be with his pack. After all, it was impossible to not give into Namjoon’s dimples.

“Okay, I’ll come with you. Just don’t lead us so far away we won’t be able to come back.”

Namjoon’s smile widened as Jin left to change his shoes. His sneakers were in a box under his bed. He had worn them only once because he preferred wearing his slippers in the house or the gardens. These sneakers were the ones he had on when you had gone to the lake before you had to go back to work and be away for most of the day.

The wolf hybrid was waiting in the back garden for him by the curtain of vines with the purple blooms. The mug was nowhere in sight.

“Ready?” Namjoon asked him.

“Ready,” Seokjin said, not paying any mind to the fluttering in his stomach.

Namjoon pulled the curtain of vines aside, the path stretching ahead. The forest was alive in spring, trees green and tall, creating shade for the small creatures roaming around to hide from the sun. And when a few sun-rays slipped through the spaces between the branches and the leaves, they looked like a touch from the gods.

Namjoon navigated the forest with practiced ease and Seokjin had a feeling the wolf hybrid knew exactly where they were going. He just hoped Jimin wouldn’t look for them while they were gone, but knowing Namjoon he had probably already told Jimin. Or Jimin could call them. Seokjin wasn’t used to having his own phone and often he forgot he had the device.

Staying close to Namjoon, he kept his eyes on the ground. A poor attempt to keep his tripping to the minimal. But the forest was conspiring against him. Roots, stones, sticks, everything he could trip over was in his path.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

Namjoon stopped, turning to look at him. He smirked. “It’s a surprise.”

“No, I prefer no surprises,” Jin said. Rock. He stepped over it, avoiding a possible humiliating fall. “Tell me where we’re going. Is it far?”

“Not too far.” Not too far for Namjoon could be totally different from Seokjin’s idea of not too far. “I swear to you we aren’t getting lost today. I know this part of the forest like the back of hand and I have a good sense of direction. See?” He pointed to the direction of a large tree on his right. “That’s north,” he pointed to the opposite direction, “and that-”

Before he could finish, Seokjin had tripped over a protruding root. He hadn’t seen it, being too focused on Namjoon. He let a shriek as he tumbled to the ground, scratching his hands as they came in contact with the ground fist.

Namjoon called his name but he hadn’t been fast enough. He grasped Seokjin’s elbows pulling him up so he was sitting instead of laying face down on the dirt.

“Are you alright?” Namjoon asked, kneeling next to him, and Seokjin felt heat travel to his face and his chest tightening. He had an urge to flee and forget that had happened. Namjoon didn’t give him the chance though. He took his hands in his, turning them over and inspecting the damage. Dirt was clinging on the flesh and Namjoon blew on them to make some it go away. “We need to clean this.” He pulled out a water bottle from his backpack and poured water on his hands. It did sting a little but Seokjin was used to much worse than this.

Thin lines were etched on his palm, none of them bleeding. His hands had taken most of the burnt of the fall. The pride he had been piecing back together hurt more than his body did.

“We should go back,” Namjoon said, letting his hands go. Seokjin mourned the loss then reprimanded himself for it. “Maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea.”

“I’m fine,” he said. He didn’t like the frown on Namjoon’s face. “We don’t have to go back. I don’t want to go back.” He cleared his throat. His face, neck and ears felt impossibly hot.

Namjoon regarded him with careful eyes. “Are you sure? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Really, I’m fine,” he repeated. He put one hand on the ground to steady himself and get back on his feet. It didn’t work very well because as soon as Namjoon saw him moving he was helping him up supporting most of his weight. “It wasn’t painful, more embarrassing than anything else,” Seokjin muttered. Despite the low tone, Namjoon heard him and his face smoothed. “Let’s go. We will never get to that place you want before nightfall at this rate.”

Namjoon chuckled shaking his head. “If you say so.” Seokjin expected him to start walking but instead he laced their fingers together. “Is this okay? I don’t want you falling again. If you trip again I’ll keep you up or at least we’ll fall together.”

Seokjin huffed out a laugh, lightheaded. Namjoon wasn’t distant but he wasn’t open with his affection like Jimin or Jungkook or even you and feeling his hand in his had ignited something inside him he was struggling to bury.

They held hands all the way to the secret destination. Seokjin tripped a couple more times, the rocks and the roots were still there and Namjoon was too distracting, but he kept his balance. Namjoon held on his hand tighter whenever he lost his footing and he allowed himself to consider it for a moment before banishing the idea.

The walk wasn’t too long and as the trees thinned out a little, a few large rocks emerged from the ground. They had climbed higher than the level of the house, the forest and the lake stretching under them. On the side the Castle peeked between the trees and the road leading to the city.

Namjoon helped him up the rock while he complained for the sake of it. They sat down to rest and Namjoon offered him the bottle of water he had used before, plenty of water was left inside. Seokjin insisted they shared it, he had already used half of it on him anyway.

“You like being outside so much, you have walked through most of the forest. You go on walks every day. Why don’t you go out with Y/N? Or around the neighborhood?” he asked. Namjoon wasn’t someone who could be contained in a house, he needed to be outside, and the forest looked too small for him.

Namjoon crossed his hands over his bent knee. “Being in the forest is easier. I can’t explain it but it’s familiar territory. Outside the forest, outside the house, that’s different. I know the streets of Los Angeles, I’ve spent more time on them than I would have liked. And now things are different but those streets are the same. I don’t think I’m ready to go back there alone.”

Seokjin’s heart constricted at the reminder of what the three hybrids he held so dearly had been through. He was spoiled, he couldn’t have survived a life in the streets. But if he was with them… If he was with them maybe it would would have been worth it.

It was a dangerous world for lone hybrids, people were eager to take advantage of them and hybrid services were always lurking in large cities like Los Angeles. Going outside alone could be an invitation for harassment from a few sick people who thought they were entitled to hybrids’ lives because humans created them, who thought they were lesser. Seokjin hadn’t been allowed to be alone outside, his owners believed it was indecent and disrespectful for hybrids to walk alone or stay alone.

“Do you want to go outside in the city?” Namjoon asked.

Seokjin hugged his knees. “I wouldn’t know where to go or what to do. I’ve never been out alone.”

Namjoon nodded. “That’s alright. It was nice being out for Spring Cleaning, I saw the city in a different light.”

Seokjin smiled, for him it hadn’t been only the city he had seen in a different light. “I would like to go out one day.”

“I would like that too,” Namjoon said softly.

But Seokjin didn’t think of going alone. He thought of being with Namjoon holding his hand so they wouldn’t lose each other or an excited Jungkook hopping around with Jimin chasing him.

Namjoon’s phone beeped with a message and he pulled it out of his backpack to read it. A smile spread on his face at whatever he was seeing. Seokjin wanted to lean closer and look at what was making him smile but he held himself back. There were only three people it could be from.

“Jungkook is playing her assistant,” Namjoon said, turning the screen so Seokjin could take a look at the photo. Jungkook was looking to the side, probably at someone talking to him, carrying two folders and a few loose papers. Seokjin’s heart softened at the sight, Jungkook looked content there. Excited and a little confused.

Seokjin took the phone in his hands. “I’m sure he insisted on carrying them for her. Doesn’t she have an assistant?”

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah, Will. But I’m not sure he’s that kind of assistant.”

“Maybe she should keep Jungkook on set, he could carry anything she wanted,” he joked. Their bunny could pick up all of them without getting tired, Seokjin had been his victim enough times to know that.

Jungkook had been doing better, his messages were more frequent and he talked more on the phone. He had been doing better but Seokjin was missing him a lot. But he couldn’t be selfish with this, going away had been good for him and if it hurt a little that he needed to be away from them, Seokjin didn’t utter a word. He had heard him sniffling at night, covering his mouth to muffle the sounds. Seokjin didn’t know how to comfort him so he just held him tighter.

Namjoon sighed, taking his phone back and hiding it in the backpack. He sighed. “Jimin is hiding away again. He barely spoke to me before locking himself in the cinema room. I don’t understand what is going on between them. Jungkook had to travel to the other side of the States to get away. I can’t get a word about what happened from either of them. Jungkook says he did something horrible to him and Jimin doesn’t want to say anything about it. And every time Jungkook pulls back from him I can see how much it hurts them both and I can’t do anything about it.”

“They don’t want us to do anything about it but they need us next to them,” Seokjin said, looking ahead at the sun slowly descending in the sky.

Namjoon let the silence stretch before speaking, “I’m grateful you’re with us, that you chose to stay. I don’t like to think about how it would have been without you.”

Seokjin turned his head away. “I didn’t do anything special. I am not that important.”

A hand touched his cheek, leading him gently until he was face to face with Namjoon looking into his hazel, almost golden, eyes. “Listen to me when I say this; you are important to us. You are pack and your place is with us here. I’ll be honest, I was weary at first but you fit right in like you were always meant to be with us. You belong with us and we’ll never let you go or get tired of you. You give so much without even realizing it.” His thumb rubbed small circles on his skin leaving burning trails behind. A heavy cloud had covered everything around him and all he could see was hazel eyes. “All I ask you is to let us take care of you, too.”

And before his doubts could stop him he surged forward. Namjoon caught him in his arms, cradling the oldest’s neck as he hid his face in his neck breathing in his scent. Time was meaningless there.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were taking a short break. John had delivered your second cup of coffee for the day and a smoothie for Jungkook who disliked the bitter taste of coffee with passion. It was a mostly practical day that didn’t require a lot of moving around. You had been meeting up with people since the crack of dawn and discussing the best ways to cover up the disaster in a way that wouldn’t turn the public against the show or the studios. So far, you had been holding off any reporters from including the overlooked safety measures when publishing the news about the collapsed sets.

After being inside all day, you had decided to take a stroll around the block. Jungkook was walking next to you sipping his smoothie. He was wearing a simple black chocker with a silver charm.

He was telling you about a video he had seen on YouTube when your phone started ringing. Your nickname for Taylor was displayed across the screen with a photo of her pulling out a tray of cookies from the over.

“Hey, Tay,” you said.

“I called at the right time, didn’t I?”

“Just the perfect time, I have around twenty minutes before I have to go back. Work has been kicking my ass.”

Taylor laughed. “I’m sure you’ve been kicking its ass too. And better.”

You had told her around what time you would be taking your break. You hadn’t talked on the phone since coming to Virginia and you had missed her voice.

You stopped at a bench and Jungkook pulled out his phone. You felt a little bad for talking on the phone when it was the two of you but you had really missed Taylor and it wouldn’t take long anyway. She had been busy with Astrid, getting to know her better and helping her adapt to the new environment. When you had visited the hybrid had looked enamored with Taylor, you knew your friend would be amazing at taking care of a hybrid.

The conversation soon turned to you but you didn’t have much to share. Work was the same regardless the disaster but Taylor was more interested in other things.

“It has been almost a year since you and Jacob broke up. Don’t you have your sight on anyone? Any flirts? It isn’t like you lost the one and only,” she said.

Jacob had been far from the one and only. And when she asked, your mind went to dangerous places.

“Just because you found your man doesn’t mean we are all that lucky,” you said. “And how am I supposed to find anyone? I’m too busy.” From the corner of your eye you saw Jungkook turning to look at you with an unreadable expression.

Taylor continued, “Aren’t there any cute boys on set? At work? There has to be someone. Don’t bury yourself in work and forget to live. I’m not saying you need a man to be happy or complete, but don’t you miss going on dates? Getting to know someone like that?”

The answer came to you unbidden but it wasn’t something you were ready to say. “Maybe after the TV show, for now I really have to focus. After that is done and I don’t have to worry about anymore earthquakes, I’ll see where I’ll end up.”

You knew Taylor cared for you and she worried about how deep you threw yourself into work. Maybe there was also a small part that was still uncertain about the way you and Jacob had broken off things and the way you had avoided the topic like the plague for the first months. Like you and Jacob had never happened. But looking at boys and dating had been the last thing on your mind.

Ending the call with Taylor promising to text her when you got off work, you patted the small of Jungkook’s back. It was time to walk back. The smoothie was half-finished, the way it had been before, like he hadn’t taken a sip since sitting down.

You asked him if there was something wrong but he replied that everything was alright. It didn’t look like that was the case. He stayed close to you all day, more clingy than he had been the whole time you had been in Virginia, wary of the men who talked to you.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The blue sky and fluffy clouds reflected on the lake, a huge mirror creating another sky on its surface, a more vibrant but precise copy. No boats cut through the water, it was like there was a part of the sky that had made its home on the ground. Trees extended on every side of the lake, so many of them one next to the other with no end in sight.

The grass tickled Jimin’s palms swaying in the gentle wind. He breathed in the fresh morning.

“One day we’ll go on a boat ride.” Jungkook was sitting next to him, his long bangs falling at the sides of his face. “We’ll see every part of the lake, not just this. We’ll go everywhere.”

Flowers bloomed all around them, white and blue petunias, chrysanthemums and lilies. Jimin wanted to cut the most beautiful one and tuck it behind Jungkook’s ear. He turned to tell him but hands were holding the back of his neck and lips devouring his. He gripped Jungkook’s arms to steady himself from the force of the kiss. The sweet aroma of the flowers filled him up, engulfing every part of his being, the deepest crevices and the smallest of cracks.

Jungkook pushed him back so he was laying on the grass and Jimin let him, too drunk off the flowers and soft lips. Touches on his cheeks and his sides, caresses under his shirt. He was burning.

It didn’t take long for the panic to set in. With weak arms, he pushed Jungkook away. The air wouldn’t reach his lungs. The scent of the flowers turned stale and bitter.

“We can’t,” he tried to say but his voice wasn’t coming out right, sticking in his throat and refusing to flow.

Jungkook pulled back. His eyes were darker than before. “Is this it? Am I too common for his highness? You didn’t have any reservations about the panther hybrid, did you? Are you attracted to power, Jiminie? Or do you open your legs only for him?”

There were sharp blades piercing Jimin’s chest. How did he know? Who had told him? No one was supposed to know.

Two figures were hiding between the trees in the darkness the day couldn’t chase away. Your hands were crossed in front of your chest and Yoongi was standing right behind you.

Jimin took a step back colliding with the fountain at the entrance of the Castle. The house was looming over him, ominous and tall as if it could touch the sky. His clothes were torn, dirt and blood staining them. They were the clothes he had been wearing the day you had found them.

“I’m sorry but you can’t stay here anymore,” you said. You knew what he had done, you knew his dirty secret and he was paying for it again. He would be paying for it his whole life. A pain so powerful he felt like he was dying bloomed in his chest as rivers of tears rolled down his cheeks. His knees were weak. He couldn’t stand.

He searched in the faces of his pack, of the people he loved so much he thought his heart would burst. Nothing but sneers and gazes of pity. Whore, they whispered. Slut. Worthless.

Jimin crumbled to his knees. He was dying. He was sure he was dying. Spasms wrecked his body as he sobbed. He had nowhere to go, he had no one but them. He couldn’t live without them.

And when he thought it was over, that it was the last breath he was taking. He opened his eyes. His chest was heaving, his heart beating like a wild animal scratching at the bars of its cage. He was in their room, the glass wall looking out at the forest. Only the moonlight fought the darkness.

The sheets were restricting him and pushing him down, tangled around his body. Frantic movements born out of desperation took over his body and he stumbled over the edge of the bed, falling hard on the floor with the sheets wrapped around his legs.

And it overflowed.

The sobs and tears. He pulled at his hair and scratched his skin. They couldn’t know. No, they could never know. You would never look at him the same way. He would lose the only home he has ever known.

He wanted to scream. Scream until his lungs were empty and his body stopped shaking. Scream until he didn’t feel worthless and used like an old toy forgotten in a corner of the attic.

There were arms around him, prying his hands away from his hair and skin. He tried to pull away but they only held tighter until he gave in and sunk into their warmth. Blood was rushing to his ears and he only made out his name falling from the other person’s lips. He rocked in his arms, cursing himself and the world. Weak. He was so weak.

Fucking pathetic.

He gripped the hands holding him. He focused on the voice speaking although he couldn’t understand what it was saying. He choked on the bile in his throat, his body shaking with his sobs.

“Jiminie, breath. Just breath,” the voice said and Jimin tried to listen to it. He did. But it felt like he hadn’t been able to breath for a while. “Just like this. Breath with me. That’s right, like this. Breath. You’re doing so well, Minie.”

Spent, Jimin fell on the chest behind him, shaky breaths leaving his lips. One of the hands rubbed his stomach over his nightshirt.

“There. You’re alright. You’re alright.”

Jimin swallowed with difficulty down his scratchy throat. “Joonie?”

“I’m here. I’m here, Minie,” the other said. Jimin didn’t have the energy to look at him, laying his head on the older’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

His breathing stuttered. Another tear escaping from his eyes, he thought he’d run out of them. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” Namjoon’s voice was unsteady and it hurt Jimin knowing he had been the cause of it. “You’re alright. I’m always here for you but I can’t protect you from your head.”

Jimin’s tail wrapped around one of Namjoon’s arms as Jimin sniffled. “I don’t want to be alone. Please, please don’t let me go. Don’t make me leave.”

“Never. I’ll never leave you. We’ll never leave you. I’d do anything in this world to keep you safe.” Namjoon caressed his arm, moving upwards and pressing his fingers against Jimin’s left scent gland. Jimin’s whole body trembled, shivers overtaking him. Namjoon rubbed his nose against the other side of his neck, leaving kisses behind. Purring, Jimin arched his neck.

“I love you,” Jimin whispered, unable to stop the tears from falling.

Namjoon kissed over his scent gland and Jimin felt it everywhere. “I love you, Minie. So much.”

#bts #bts hybrid au #btscreatorscorner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fanfic #jikook #sope #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff

2K notes · View notes

mindofharry · 3 years

Note

dad!harry content pls 🤲🤲

Y’ALL MAY I HATE ME FOR THIS ONE! A BLURB FILLED WITH JUST ANGST, ANGST AND MORE ANGST!

Harry was freshly out of one direction, when he met Y/N and her 6 year old daughter, adelaide. Harry was running in the park and Y/N was trying to keep her daughter occupied until her dad was coming to pick her up. She had lost the keys to her apartment, and she waiting for the landlord to ring her back. Of course, adelaide is only 6, she needs her toys and her stories. So Y/N is trying her best to keep her entertained.

Harry takes a notice in them.

More specifically Y/N. She’s beautiful, radiant even. She lights up this whole park and her voice is so soft and gentle. Harry couldn’t leave without talking to her - and it was like adelaide could hear his thoughts. She fell right in front of the popstar and let out a scream. Harry being the person that he is, picked her up and walked her back over to her mom.

Y/N was a state. But when she saw harry styles bringing her child back to her, laughing might she add, she had a pretty good feeling about it.

Harry and Y/N recite the story everyday, thanking adelaide for bring them together. Adelaide hates herself for bringing harry styles in their life. Although she loves harry almost as much as her biological father, harry doesn’t seem to love her. Not as much as he used to anyways.

Adelaide loved harry so much when she was younger. Practically in love with him herself, her mother used to tease and say she had a crush on harry. she used to deny it, but they do have a video of adelaide trying to marry harry. As adelaide got older, Y/N and harry moved on with their lives. Got married, bought a house, had more kids. At first, adelaide was excited. Harry was super cool, having him as he step dad? Even cooler. But when the first baby came, everything changed. Her brother, mica was born in the summer, so she could visit him any time. Harry wasn’t as nice to her as he used to be - adelaide just thought it was tiredness.

But now, she knows.

Harry likes mica more than he likes adelaide.

And she’s kind of accepted now, that harry likes his biological kids more than her. Well, she doesn’t blame him really. He’s not her dad, she’s not his daughter. She gets it. She’s not his family, not his little princess anymore. She still as her dad, who she lives with on the weekend. So she makes the most of her visits with him. It still would be nice to have some kind of relationship with harry, but she’s not pushing it anymore.

“Is harry coming to my piano recital?” Adelaide asked while playing with mica. Y/N, her mother, was sat on the sofa in front her, nursing the new baby girl she had given birth to two weeks ago: jane. Y/N felt unimaginably bad. She knew that harry was lacking with adelaide, but she’s just putting it up to have the new baby and him being super busy with work now - the dismissing part is what gets adelaide. Her mother just keeps making excuses for that man.

“Honey, you know he’d come if he could. He’s a busy man” Her mother said, rubbing janes back.

Adelaide nodded and sighed, smiling down at her brother. She just hoped harry didn’t get bored of these two - they didn’t deserve that.

“Will you be there?” Adelaide questioned, Y/N grinned and nodded. “Of course, i’ll be there. Haven’t missed a recital before have i?” She asked and adelaide shook her head.

Adelaide went home that night with a weird feeling in her stomach. Like her mother was lying to her. She needed someone to be there, adelaide is extremely shy and finds it hard to perform without her mom or dad there. When she says them in the audience, she feels good almost like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders.

She just hoped her mother would keep this promise.

Friday night rolled around quickly enough. Adelaide was confident with her piece and she played it over and over again in her room and on face time to her dad, who is absolutely obsessed with adelaide playing music. He doesn’t know where she gets it from, but there’s no denying she’s pretty fucking talented.

When she went downstairs in her dress and heels (she had to dress formal as there would be scouts from different colleges watching her and the other students perform), her mother, harry and the two babies were around the table. They were laughing, mica giggling in his play chair and jane in harrys lap. They were doing a puzzle. It’s such a stupid thing to be upset over, but why wasn’t she included? Why isn’t she ever included when harrys around? She feels small and so utterly stupid around him, and Y/N just dismisses that. She doesn’t know what she did wrong to make harry act like this. she really doesn’t know.

“Oh, hey honey!” Y/N said making everyone look up. mica squealed and put his hands up in the air. Y/N giggled and caressed his cheek. “You love your big sis, don’t ya?” She said in a baby voice making mica even more giddy.

“Why are you so dressed up?” Y/N questioned.

It was like someone slapped adelaide across the face. Her mother had forgotten? Her own mother had forgotten one of the most important recitals to date? Adelaide was about to correct her mom, give her the benefit of the doubt with baby brain and such, but before she could harry was handing the babies off to Y/N and walking adelaide into the hallway closing the kitchen door behind her.

She was startled, but kept a straight face.

“Your moms tired, adelaide. She needs a break. She’s just going to skip this one real quick. It’s not like it’s anything too important, right?” Harry said and adelaide tried to speak but nothing came out, her eyes filled with tears and her ears were ringing. How dare he. How dare he speak to her like that, in that tone and dismiss everything she’s worked towards.

Music has been her saviour, her hero. And this recital is super important, college scouts coming to see her? This is the most important moment in her life to date.

“You know what” Adelaide started but she stopped, moving around harry and opening up the kitchen door again. Harry sighed, obviously frustrated.

“Adelaide, don’t” He said sternly and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed together, wondering what was happening. She lay jane down in the pram beside her, and gave mica his blocks on the floor. Adelaide stood there watching Y/N and then turned her head to look at harry.

They were happy.

Happy without her.

“Adelaide” Her mother called her placing a hand on her shoulder, Adelaide pulled back out of her mother’s grip and shook her head.

“You didn’t remember” She whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. Harry cursed under his breath. He couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t listen - it was a simple request, was it not? Harry knew Y/N was tired, she needed some rest. And going out to some recital wasn’t going to help that. And anyways, there would be plenty more in the future. He doesn’t know why adelaide is so upset.

He let the anger get the better of him. He didn’t think about anything that would happen afterwards, or how it would make adelaide feel. Harry just blurted it out, out of frustration and anger.

“God, adelaide you ruin everything!”

Silence.

Who knew quiet could give you a headache?

The deafening sound was unbearable, it felt like everyone was watching her, watching her as adelaide crumbled. She was doing being the bigger man, the better person, she was done making excuses, letting her mother dismiss her feelings, letting a man tell her what to do and dismissing her skills and dreams. She was done being that person.

“Oh, shut up harry!” Adelaide yelled, startling both harry and Y/N.

“You ruined everything for me the minute you walked into my life. You told me you loved me as if i was your own daughter and then you just forget about me!” She cried, her hands flying up to her hair. Y/N tried to get close to her, but adelaide refused shaking her head and putting her hand up to stop her mother.

“And you! You would always make excuses and dismiss my feelings when i would talk to you about it. He’s at work, or he didn’t mean to forget you, he’s been busy, or with the new baby and all everything is a bit jumbled” Adelaide mocked, her mom let out a sob.

“That’s enough” Harry demanded and adelaide laughed, with no humour evident at all.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do” She said.

“I’m done trying with you, harry. I’m done trying to get you to like me, to look at me, to even just notice me. i’m done” Adelaide said, harrys heart broke in that moment, not realising the pain he caused her.

“Well, you got what you wanted” Adelaide said and harry tried to get to her, to hug her, to apologise.

She wouldn’t budge.

“You got me out of your life for good”

#harry styles #dad harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot

240 notes · View notes

pedrosbrat · 3 years

Text

Sorrow You Are My Light {Pero Tovar x Max Phillips x F!Reader}

CHAPTER I : Insomnia

AU - Vampire Hunters

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Language, alcohol, yearning, violence (fight) , mention of murder, sword, blood …

Summary: You and Pero were united by fate in your youth due to a tragic event. You will seek revenge from the creature that caused your common suffering all your life without success... Until you cross paths with Max Philips, forcing you to form an alliance with an enemy to destroy a common foe...

Little Comment : Hi everyone, it’s my first series, I hope you will like it (if you see any mistakes let me know and I will correct it) - 1 chapter will be published every week, every Saturday⚔️ Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

1440- Transylvania

You have been travelling on horseback for a little more than two days now, with a weather changing from very hot to very rainy, and usually it doesn't bother you, at least not really, because Pero has the decency to take breaks, it has always been like that. But for the first time in decades of travelling together, he has refused to take any breaks, because he says you are close to the goal.

You can understand it, and you feel it too, but you would still like to be able to rest, not feeling your legs or even feeling your buttocks... You don't even know if you don't feel them anymore because of the total absence of sensation from sitting on your horse for this long, or if the pain you felt yesterday has taken over and has become a friend, and the only company you feel at this moment.

Because despite his presence, Pero is far too absorbed in the mission. This is nothing new, in fact, he has always been like this, only usually he has the good sense to admit that sleep is important for a good fight, as well as a somewhat adequate physical form...

"If we are attacked by a vampire now Pero I won't be able to fight". You say as you catch up to him slightly at a gallop. "Stop complaining," he says, slightly grumpier than his natural temperament, which is bound to be an effect of lack of sleep. "I'm not complaining, I'm just right! You know very well that the lack of rest will eventually kill us, if it is not the horses that die long before us! You say, slightly annoyed by his behaviour.

He stopped short, and turned to face you, grimacing, probably aching and exhausted, unconsciously proving your point: "If he runs away, he'll kill more people! You seem to forget what this thing is capable of!" "Forget?!" you say, widening your eyes, increasingly annoyed.

Vampires: demonic beings that have occupied the lands of your country since your childhood. At first, in your youth, their presence was only a myth, which some people described as mad swore they had seen, but as time went on, the world realised that it was all real. These decaying beings, who have no chance of finding the light again, their gaze completely absorbed in the darkness, surrounded by veins resembling the shade of smoke enveloping the sky and covering all traces of the sun. They are the shadows that will hide the light of all normal life since your youth... Since that night sixteen years ago...

You know that Pero can be stubborn, but he is not so deeply stubborn that he tries to pretend to anyone who doesn't know him, although he hides it quite well, he is a gentle man and a good man... Except when he really decides otherwise, as he has done for the last forty-eight hours. So you don't try to argue or have a simple debate with him on the subject, because you know very well what he's talking about and you don't want to talk about it... You've already had enough nightmares since you were a child, so you don't need that.

You gallop alone towards the big city, from where you are not so far now, determined to make a big turn, to let your horse rest, and to rest at the same time in a real bed, and not stones under a sheet for a pillow or an old tavern of the village where you were hunting.

It doesn't matter if he follows you or not, you're far too tired and suffering to care at the moment, and being a very good tracker, you know you'll be able to find him if only a few hours separate you from each other, and at least you'll be able to fight effectively if something happens.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The city is not as jovial as it usually is. You don't know why, of course, but there's a sort of silent restlessness that mingles with an almost empty square, leaving a black shadow over all those little houses, like a feeling deep inside you that you can see floating over the city.

"Anything interesting in the sky Paloma?"

You turn, coming out of the thoughts that had completely absorbed you, to find that Pero is at your side, handing you a piece of cheese, which he must have bought at the entrance of the city, and that you grab without hesitation the rumbling belly for any substitute of food... His way of apologizing and telling you that you are right, even if he will never admit it out loud...

Pero will never admit it, but he doesn't like to see you turning your back on him. He likes your presence, even if he doesn't express it, he likes to see you smiling, annoying him, lecturing him. He likes the way you've been waddling around on your horse for the last few days, and he knows it's only because of the pain he's putting you through, and that he shouldn't like to see that, he feels a little bad about it at times.... But you are so beautiful... And that ass, God only knows how many times he's dreamed of it bouncing off him...

"Nothing special, just a bad feeling" you say, taking a bite of the end of your feeble dish, "...I don't really believe in feelings you know, but for once I have to give it to you..." he says, kicking the sides of his horse to start galloping "No we should let the king know we're back, maybe he'll explain what's going on.

You nod and follow him, speeding up in your turn, not missing the crosses on the front of each house, as well as some silver objects in front of the windows, which normally would have been looted by the small thieves of the city, but even they don't seem to want to touch them... You start to understand what is going on but don't go forward, hoping that the bad luck hasn't come to your place of living once again, where you and Tovar have decided to stay for more than two years now.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The throne room which is usually decorated with berries on every table, and bright silk draperies falling from the chandeliers to the ceiling, adorning the sides of the windows are not present, leaving the room in a dullness and sadness that the king and queen usually do not like. But they don't seem to mind, in fact in this room where all the lords are gorging themselves and filling up, they think it is much more agitated than the atmosphere outside. An almost incomprehensible hubbub envelops the room, leaving the king before you, not uttering a word, eyes fixed on you, nodding towards a guard at the back of the room, leading to the inner corridors of the castle, a neutral look on his face, leaving his wife and lords to shout complaints and fears into every ear.

He stands up curtly as the others in the room don't take the decency to stop talking as they usually would, leaving the king to walk out the back door, with you on his heels.

"Where were you?!" He says before you can even close the door to the large hallway, "On the trail of one of them my king" Pero says, bowing his head slightly. "And?" Said the king as he placed his index finger and thumb on his nose, as if trying to relieve a headache. "We had a trail... But we got away from it because of me" you say as you look the king in the eye, not flinching, assuming that a disaster may be looming over the city because of you.

The king doesn't answer and starts pacing in front of you before continuing silently, in a calm and gentle manner that must have always been endowed with "It's nothing... I think you might have guessed it when you returned to the city, but one of them is attacking an area near here..." "And no one was AVAILABLE to stop it?... Dios mío..." says pero a little annoyed that everyone is waiting on you two. "Oh, there were many volunteers... But none came back."

You turn your gaze to Tovar understanding without him actually saying it, what the king is asking you. He nods and you do the same before turning to the king, "Where? Where did you send them?" you say, already beginning to think you're going to regret it, "The Singing Mountain... There was... If you had seen what happened there...".

He couldn't finish his sentence and squinted hard, as if to chase away painful memories buried behind his eyelids. "We've seen it all our lives," Pero said before bowing and walking out to cross the throne room. You do the same, "It will be dark soon, we can't leave now, it would be too dangerous. But at dawn we'll get started. You don't share any contact with him, out of royal respect, and simply turn on your heels to join Pero, already far away, probably thinking of a plan for tomorrow.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

Your little house is on the outskirts of the village, a little out of the way, not that you don't like the presence of other people, but you are simply used to living like this: just the two of you.

You had already tried to live in separate houses in the village when you arrived two years ago, but every night was cut short by panicked screams and the search for comforting warmth next to you, visions and nightmares that you hadn't had in years, memories that were buried in the depths of your mind, every moment and every night that you spent in Pero's arms.

And you know that it was the same for him, even if he never mentioned it. He didn't have to. The simple fact that he would leave his house at one end of town in the middle of the night to join you under the sheets without saying anything and just let you snuggle up to him as you have done since you were children. So, you drifted away from the villagers, refusing to attach yourself to anyone else, only needing each other, sleeping together to hunt and seek comfort from the demons that plague you both when night falls. And sometimes even sharing each other's presence you feel that you are missing something... It's weird, and you don't know what it is. You don't talk about it... But you both feel it as well...

After setting up silver dust, under foliage all around your home and bringing back some stew that an old lady gave you in the village, thanking you for protecting them, and drinking a large pint of beer that Pero had left out in the house, you both finish your well-deserved meal in silence, savouring every mouthful of stew with a deliciousness like you've never tasted before... Or maybe you're just so hungry that everything would seem like a delicacy right now.

The same goes for the bed, having obviously finished before Pero who always takes a second bite and calls you "paloma", which according to what he told you simply means that you don't eat much for someone who is always crying out for food, like a little bird. You quickly head for your room so that you can have a nice bath without being disturbed by his lack of patience who you know would be there asking you every thirty seconds if you were almost finished, wanting to take a bath as well. So you were able to enjoy it fully until the water cooled, letting your muscles relax from the tumultuous journey and the stress dissolve for a short moment you cherished.

"I heard people talking about this mountain when we first arrived..." says Pero from the bathroom, waking you from your near sleep, now lying on the bed "Mmmh..." you reply far too tired to utter a word. Eyes still closed, you sit up slightly, knowing that he won't stop there. "The villagers always said that the devil lived in his heart... I didn't really pay attention to it, since there was never a murder... At least until now.”

You open your eyes hearing his voice much closer than it was a few seconds ago, and the reason being that he is standing by the bed, with only a sheet around his hips, placing his weapons beside him as he always does before going to bed. And for your part you try to look away as you always do before going to bed. At least when you sleep in a bed with him. At first it was quite simple and automatic not to look at him when you were younger and when he is only "dressed" like that... But lately it has become quite difficult... It has become quite difficult to avoid the vision of his broad shoulders and that torso getting thinner and thinner towards his waist, that aqualine nose that you imagine between your legs, before placing kisses on it as on his perfect lips and this goddamn perfect little line on it... And that scar on his beautiful obsidian black puppy-dog eyes, even if you're almost sure he doesn't like it, that scar on his face...That scar gives him a crazy charm... And everytime it become impossible to avoid to look at the droplets falling from his deep chocolate curls, sliding down that nape of his neck that you wish you could mark with your lips, to end up around his pure silver cross, shining on his golden and bronze skin...

It's become so hard to ignore this man who's practically become a god under your hungry eyes, as hard as it is to ignore the coming arousal that you feel between your legs as you watch him walk around in his armor or the mere sight of the veins and muscles in his neck give you unholy thoughts...

You turn around and help yourself to your sheets, crossing your legs to try and forget what you'd like him to do to you in that room and bed right now, thinking about how you probably wouldn't have the energy for it, and you fall asleep quicker than you thought you would, already with your mind bent on what you might find on that mountain tomorrow...

Pero watches your body rise and fall slightly with every breath you take and exhale, as he has been doing every night for the past few years... Since he was old enough to understand that you were no longer just a friend to him, that he was no longer indifferent to your curves, that he would watch you come out of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye and bend over the bed to admire your buttocks that he always imagined grabbing tightly in his hands... But he never did and was content to watch you fall asleep with your back to him, now that he can no longer see you come out with a simple sheet around you, your hair wet and your skin steaming from the good bath he would have liked to share with you... He is only content to fall asleep following your breaths, wanting deep down, much more of his Paloma...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

You have galloped and walked all day to get to this cursed place, making you arrive around mid-day, when the sun begins its descent towards the west.

The forest is not dancing as usual, and the birds, being the reason why this mountain is called the singing mountain by their chirping, have seemingly disappeared singing no more from this cursed place under a river now red with blood. A putrid, foul smell that you can't miss is present on the scene. No bodies. Lots of blood.

"I've never seen this..."

You don't respond to his remark, but you know exactly what he is talking about. A river turned red with blood, accompanied by the smell of death, yet showing no sign of a body near the water or even in the forest you've just passed through.

Vampires kill, and abandon the corpse, having no interest in keeping the body, or if they really want a use for it, they transform the person, but in this case if, the smell of decomposing corpse and the river of blood should not be present at the scene.

"I don't like this Pero...".

He doesn't answer and just grunts before pulling out his sword and pushing you back slightly. You do the same and pull out your sword, never having doubted his ability to sense the presence of another being, other than the two of you. "It's not dark enough for it to be one," you say, watching carefully around you. "The king would never send his men out in the middle of the night," he says, passing you some silver powder. "How..."

You don't finish your sentence and freeze. Your hands tighten on the hilt of your sword, and you look into the shadows of the forest at the glowing yellow eye sockets. A man you can't make out is watching you without moving. Pero notices this too and pushes you behind him, instinctively as he does every time, even though he knows you can defend yourself, he never misses an opportunity to throw himself between you and the danger... And you will do the same for him when the opportunity arises.

"Come here!" he shouted with a smile, taunting this bloodsucking bastard, who for his part did not move a muscle. He's watching both you, and you're getting more and more worried, not understanding why he's not attacking you, as they all do. This is not a usual behaviour from them... What is going on here...

Your question evaporates as he evaporates, not approaching you, or attacking you. You tug lightly on Pero's arm, asking him to return to the horse. He didn't insist and followed you, sword in hand, running and climbing on the horses as fast as he could.

"What was that?!" you shouted at him at a gallop not far from him, who stopped dead in his tracks a few paces away from you "Pero what..." "I don't know!" he says, a growing frustration in his eyes that you know only too well, a look he gets when he is about to do something impulsive. "Pero you're not going back!" "He didn't attack us..." "That doesn't mean he won't next time! What's wrong with you?!" You say completely dumbfounded by your best friend, willing to risk his life to prove a point.

FUCK PERO!

You follow him in spite of yourself, knowing that you couldn't forgive yourself for leaving him to die alone in those woods, whether it was his choice or not.

A million thoughts go through your head as Pero is hit by something. You jump off your horse and swing your sword at a man in your path, a man who did not flinch at the shock of a galloping horse. You throw a sword at him which he quickly avoids and disappears again, but you know this kind of technique well, you have fought them all your life. You grab a dagger in your other hand and stand back-to-back with pero who has just straightened up.

"I told you we should have left," you say, more than a little frustrated by events that could have been avoided. "This is not the time." He says as he begins to fight the creature in front of you, moving far too quickly for you to anticipate any movement.

He's faster. Smarter than anything you've encountered before, and despite Pero's ability to inflict some cuts with his pure silver sword, the vampire doesn't give in. But it doesn't kill us for all that... A sentence that goes through your head thinking that it could kill you both in a few seconds if it really wanted to... No, this thing is looking for something...

You don't take any more chances and grab your powder and throw it at the thing, which is screaming in pain, looking at you with reddened eyes, sharp fangs and black veins around its eyes like you've never seen before... "PERO THE HORSES!". He thinks for half a second about killing this thing here and now, but sees the powder starting to dissipate and prefers not to risk both of you getting killed here and now... Not to risk YOUR death here and now which would ultimately be his fault...

You gallop off without looking back, not understanding what you just saw.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"PERO WHAT DID YOU DO THERE?!" you say as you slam the door of the house and drop your weapons on the floor "You could have gotten us both killed! You saw what that thing did!" "It didn't kill us... Why?" he says as he sits down on one of the chairs calmly, too calm for what just happened "Is that really the only thing that bothers you about what just happened Pero?!" you say as you bang on the table.

He straightens up curtly and approaches you with a dark look in his eyes, "Aren't you even asking yourself that question? Don't you want to know why he left us alive? Why didn't he kill us or just jump down our throats and kill us like they all do? ¡Miénteme! LIE TO ME?! TRY LYING TO ME!" He says, banging on the table in turn.

You don't respond, knowing he's right, but you can't help it, impulsive behaviour like that could have killed you both. "I shouldn't have gone back there I know that Paloma... But I don't understand..." he says more calmly trying to apologize in his own way. You take him in your arms, understanding that he acted in incomprehension and panic "I also wonder Pero but don't ever do that again... He was smarter... Faster... And seems to control himself in front of living people... We never had to deal with that" you say holding him tighter, also needing a little comfort, adrenaline gradually coming down.

"She's right!"

You flinch and Pero pulls his sword straight out pushing you behind him, hearing a voice coming from your kitchen. Your eyes widen as you realise that the vampire you fought a few hours ago is the man in the room...

"Your powder has no effect on me, cuties... Should you have tried the wooden stakes?" he says, leaning slowly against one of the walls in front of you. "The wooden stakes are too big, a risk. You have to get too close and we're not stupid enough for that," Pero says dryly.

Those features... A protruding jaw, puppy dog eyes that dominate a fierce rage and that aquiline nose... You turn to Pero and move from him to this man, noticing that your friend, has similar features with this creature in front of you even if his hair is longer than pero, but he doesn't seem to really care or even notice it, it's actually the least of his concerns "Why are we still alive? "He says, putting his weapon on the table behind him, understanding that this creature does not intend to kill you, that if it really wanted to, it would not have bothered to let you go and then follow you and interrupt you... Or would have simply killed you in this forest.

He took a step closer but changed his mind when he saw that Pero was keeping a hand on one of his weapons. "Because I'm not the one you're looking for" says the vampire. Pero looked at you wide-eyed and started to laugh, a dark laugh, far from being amused by the situation. "Do you hear that? Now they're coming to our house to haggle," he said, jostling you slightly, still not making you smile.

You know that side of Pero. That unstable side that loses control of itself and doesn't know how to deal with the information and emotions it receives, which are far too numerous to process quickly enough for events that are far too unfamiliar to its eyes. And you don't blame him because you yourself don't know how to deal with it all. "I'm not happy about talking to you..." you say, trying not to play on each other's nerves. "...But you haven't killed us yet, so I'll give you a minute to explain what you want from us."

He stares at you for a few seconds, examining you from head to toe, not missing the look of disgust and hatred on your face. "You're looking for my creator... And I need you to kill him" he said, staring into your eyes, a teasing smile on his face, very sure of himself, yet very serious about the words he just said "Vampires are normally very attached to their creator, I think you're setting us up" you said, crossing your arms "She can't understand that if I wanted you dead you'd have been dead long ago!

He disappeared for a few seconds and found himself next to you, making you jump up and grab tovar's sword behind you to point it at him. He stared at the blade and ran his finger over it, causing smoke to billow from his skin, like at the end of a fire. "I'm not one of the little vampires you usually fight, which makes me... superior to what you're used to..." Tovar rolled his eyes and stepped in front of you, again, instinctively offering his body as a barrier to protect you, letting the man finish, always having a thought of skewering him at any moment "... I'm not dependent on him... At least not completely. But I don't serve him like all those vermin you hunt every day, who don't know how to control themselves or even think for themselves."

He loosens his last words with a more than visible disgust, arranging his clothes and slowly walking around the table without taking his eyes off you. "I don't depend on him. I'm not attached to him in any way... At least not emotionally... Physically it's something else: I can't kill him, not with my own hands." he says, staring deeply into the wood of the table, as if he could see his own reflection there.

"And you need us for that?!" Pero laughed a dark laugh like you've never heard, now less and less amused by the situation, knowing that he could launch himself at the thing in front of you at any moment. You grab him by the arm before he does something stupid and pull him away from the vampire "We should do it Pero." He widened his eyes and reached up to your face, grabbing your cheeks, as if to check that you hadn't been bewitched. You clapped his hands and told him you were fine before continuing, "If he leads us to his master..." "HE'S NOT MY MASTER!" he shouts from across the room letting you know that he can hear anything you say.

You look at Pero and let him know you'll explain the rest later by miming dust between your fingers, as you've done since you were little, before continuing "When he leads us to his MASTER, we can at least find out where he is and kill him! That's what we've wanted for weeks, Pero."

He's not thrilled. He realizes the danger you're going to face and knows that you've already faced a lot of such danger in your life... But he's not excited. He doesn't know if he can trust the information this thing has just given him, and if he should trust it at all. He doesn't want to have to trust it, and he can see in your eyes that you don't want to either... But he also understands that you have no choice after the king's request. So he lets his gaze shift from yours to the vampire's. "Okay. We leave tomorrow morning," he says, stepping around you and approaching the vampire, a more stern look on his face than he usually wears "... But if you were foolish enough to betray us, know this..." "... That you'll kill me?" he cuts Tovar off with a laugh and moves closer to him "And I'll let you do beautiful."

You chuckle and cross your arms and squint your eyes, amused "We already don't trust you..." "I know that sweetheart" "...BUT that's no reason to lie to us" you say, raising your voice, slightly annoyed by his condescending air.

He tries to get around Tovar, who won't let him pass, and shakes his head to let him know he's definitely not going to approach you. "Believe me..." he said as he put his gaze into yours, a serious, not amused gaze "... If I tell you I'd let you do it it's simply that I'd rather it be you than him."

He nodded to you, then to Tovar, and walked towards the front door.

"Oh, and I'd rather be Max Phillips than 'that thing'," he said as he closed the door behind him, leaving you and Tovar in a state of anxiety and nervousness the likes of which you hadn't had in a long time, leaving you both that night alive to the slightest background noise, the slightest shadow passing through the thin draperies of your windows...

•

Chapter 2

TAG LIST : @jessie-writes-things @absurdthirst @wardenparker @aisibaby @xcartxffs @owljumper @underwaterwonderscapes @artemiseamoon

(Join my Taglist HERE )

69 notes · View notes

vina-writes · 4 years

Text

The Pink Paradox

Written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Metamorphosis!

Rating: T

Length: 1.6k

Summary: Draco Malfoy has pink hair.

Notes: Thank you so much @fw00shy for betaing!! Also just hire me for all your graphic design needs because hot damn I am proud of myself

(i)

Draco Malfoy has pink hair.

That’s not entirely correct when one gets down to the facts. Draco Malfoy has blond hair— a light, airy blond, the color of sunlight on snow. Harry Potter knows this because he’s spent many an adolescent winter watching Malfoy walk the grounds of a frozen Hogwarts and noticing it. The fact that he’s observed Malfoy that carefully is neither here nor there, although Ron would say it’s there (there being the Janus Thickey Ward). Harry’s Malfoy-stalking tendencies occupy their own corner of his mind however, and certainly don’t apply to the here and now.

Because here and now Malfoy has pink hair, and that’s not something unique to Harry’s observations. There’s not a witch or wizard alive who wouldn’t notice that head of bubblegum bobbing between the Auror cubicles.

It’s far too early for a Monday morning (nearing noon), and while their coworkers have been diligently ridding the Wizarding World of crime, Harry and Ron are tossing Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into each other's mouths and gossiping over Lavender Brown’s pregnancy cravings. They were, that is, until Harry caught sight of Malfoy's pink hair.

“Kneazle got your tongue?” Ron asks after Harry fails to finish his sentence for the fifth time. Ron can make fun of him if he wants— his chair is facing away from Malfoy and that rosy fringe. The fact that Harry has never passed up a chance to watch Draco in all their years of training and employment (with or without pink hair) is irrelevant. The pink is distracting, and it’s more so on Malfoy.

“Malfoy,” Harry repeats to himself quietly, just to feel the familiar shape in his mouth. It’s lacking the venom and suspicion it should have on principle.

Ron turns unpleasantly green at that. “Malfoy’s got your tongue?” he asks.

“What?” Harry finally looks away from Malfoy. “No. Ew. Of course not.” He says it far too blandly, like a child denying their love of sweets, and Ron gives him a Look. Harry tries (unsuccessfully) to change the subject. “What’s he doing with the— why did he— what’s… erm.”

Ron regards him like he’s lost his mind. He seems to think Harry is confused about Malfoy’s business in the DMLE, when he’s usually with Hermione down in Mysteries. While that is out of the ordinary, it’s not nearly as pressing of an issue as Malfoy's pink hair.

“He’s consulting,” Ron explains slowly, “for the Finley case?” Then, when Harry only stares back blankly— “Harry. Can you even read?”

“Occasionally.”

“Tacky romance novels don't count.”

“Oh. Then, no, not really.”

“It was in our missive just last week. They’ve pulled in the Unspeakables. I was hoping they’d send ‘Mione, since she and the Ferret work together, but no such luck.”

“Oh.” Harry turns back to watch Malfoy shake Robards’ hand. Robards' grip is strong, and his thick fingers nearly engulf Malfoy’s delicate wrist. Harry doesn’t like that.

“Are you worried he’s going to cause trouble?” Ron asks. His voice sounds different, and when Harry glances at him again he’s got both feet slung over the armrest of his chair. Robards will skin him alive if he sees.

“No!” Harry says too quickly. He coughs. “Just wondering about the— er, how long has he had…?”

Ron doesn’t seem inclined to help him out.

“For fuck’s sake, Ron, when did he go and do—” Harry waves his hands frantically “—that?”

“Do you mean the hair, mate?”

“Yes, the bloody hair!” Harry’s had his fair share of existential crises in his life. He’s well acquainted with the feeling, and this one is going near the top of the list.

Ron, the bastard, shrugs. Shrugs! Like a pink-haired Malfoy is not only a normal occurrence, but is even expected.

“I didn’t notice it at first, to be honest,” he says, and Harry throws him a look of such vicious resentment that the potted Dragon Snap in the corner stops smoking and curls its leaves over its head. Ron just gives him a shit-eating grin in return.

Discouraged by his apparently un-threatening aura, Harry glances away in time to see Malfoy get a hearty pat on the shoulder (he doesn’t like that, either) and turn towards— towards them.

“Er, Ron?” Harry asks. “Who was assigned to the Finley case?” He knows the answer before he gets it, but still can’t look away from the cutting figure Malfoy makes as he saunters towards them in swirling black robes.

“That would be us,” Ron says cheerfully. “Buckle up and tuck in, mate. Your hard-on is showing.”

Harry is not hard, not even a little, but his panicked struggle to tug the mercilessly short Auror robes over his lap leaves him wrinkled and guilty-looking when Malfoy reaches them.

“Gentlemen,” Malfoy says cooly, and Harry thinks his cheeks must be the color of Malfoy’s hair.

“Harry’s hot for your hair,” Ron says. Harry chokes. “He’s also not read the case file, so I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t come looking for me, I’ll be taking an extended lunch. Looking forward to working with you.”

He throws them both a saucy wink and leaves with all the smugness of a man who’s done his yearly good deed. Harry’s going to murder him before the day is done.

Silence descends over their cubicle. Malfoy eyes Ron’s chair, but wisely chooses to remain standing. Harry notices belatedly that his robes are trimmed in silver, the same shade at his eyes.

“Potter.”

“Malfoy,” Harry acknowledges with a polite nod. The stillness around them is most certainly plummeting towards awkward.

“I heard you like my—”

“Have you read the—”

They both speak at the same time. Malfoy blinks, startled. When he doesn’t finish his sentence, Harry tries again.

“Have you not been debriefed on—”

“I noticed you changed your—”

They wisely decide to shut up. There’s a used staple on the corner of Harry’s desk, and he reaches over to fiddle with it just for something to do.

“Staples,” Malfoy says out of the blue. He looks like he regrets his volume, and it occurs to Harry that he probably feels just as uncomfortable. This is the first time they’ve spoken beyond polite greetings in four years, and neither is sure what to expect. It makes Harry feel better, somehow, to know that he’s not the only one feeling utterly wrongfooted.

“Yes,” Harry says. “Staples?”

Malfoy swallows. His neck is a long expanse of smooth skin, and Harry vaguely wonders what it tastes like. “We might make use of them on the case. Staples, I mean. Have you any more?”

Harry frowns, his discomfort dissipating. “Yeah, in the supply closet. But we just use Sticking Charms— don’t you?”

“Yes,” Malfoy says quickly. “We do. But we could try staples from the supply closet.”

It’s Harry’s turn to deploy the Look. Malfoy frowns at him like he doesn't get it, but Harry’s not really in the mood for deduction.

“So,” Harry says instead, “Auror work. Are you looking forward to it?”

There’s a shift in Malfoy’s stance, and his grey eyes skim over the lines of Harry’s body. “Parts of it,” he says. His tone is a little off. Husky.

“Sore throat?” Harry asks in what he hopes is a sympathetic manner.

“Sometimes,” Malfoy says cryptically. Harry’s not having the greatest time puzzling out his strange behavior and responses— they leave him floundering for something else to say.

“Are you going to tell me what’s in that fancy file or do I have to read it?” Harry finally asks, jerking his chin towards the papers tucked under Malfoy’s arm. He sincerely hopes Malfoy will volunteer to summarize for him. It’s because Harry’s glasses are giving him a headache and not at all because he likes the sound of Malfoy’s voice.

Malfoy’s cheeks flush a little. Harry wonders if he’s coming down with something, even as he struggles not to think of the color as attractive. “Protocol dictates that you read case information yourself,” Malfoy says, “but I suppose I wouldn’t mind speeding things along so we can get started. Maybe… over coffee? Or lunch?”

Harry tries not to let his dismay show on his face. “We have to work through lunch?” he asks. It sounds pathetic even to his own ears.

“Oh my fucking Merlin, he’s asking you out!” Cho shouts over the cubicle wall. Harry and Malfoy both jump.

“No, he’s not!” Harry shouts back, cheeks flaming.

“Yes, I am,” Malfoy says. Harry drops the used staple.

“You are?”

“Am I?”

“I don’t bloody know!”

“Well,” Malfoy starts, but seems to realize he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. “Well— you like my hair.”

“And that’s enough reason to ask me out for coffee?”

Harry really has no idea why he’s arguing. This is Malfoy— pink-haired, blushing Malfoy— handing himself over on a silver-trimmed platter, and he mentally slaps himself for putting up any sort of resistance.

“I like your hair,” Malfoy admits. He seems to regret saying it, and tries to make up for his embarrassment by adopting a suave position leaning against Harry’s desk. He misses and stumbles slightly before righting himself.

“Don’t worry, Malfoy,” Cho calls again. “He’s been wetting himself over you for years, he’s bound to say yes.”

“Well, he’s not saying it,” Malfoy mutters.

“Yes I am.”

“You— you are?”

“Am I?”

Malfoy stops and stares at him. Opens his mouth, frowns a little. There’s a wonderful feeling in Harry’s chest.

“I’m just fucking with you,” Harry says over a smile. “Let’s go.”

Malfoy orders a strawberry milkshake at lunch. Harry doesn’t get dessert, but he still feels very… pink.

Read on Ao3

#drarry #prompt #drarrymicrofic #it was for the prompt so ill tag it as micro lol #vina writes

132 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

if something’s wrong you can count on me

special thanks to @trkstrnd for very kindly allowing me to take inspiration from and adapt one of their ideas!

@911lonestarangstweek day 2: Physical whump + “Does it hurt badly?”

five times carlos takes care of tk when he’s injured, and one time tk takes care of carlos

ao3 | 3.5k | 5+1 things

Getting TK to rest after bursting his stitches is an uphill battle, one Carlos only wins half the time. He’s currently losing, watching TK attempt to scrape some lunch together whilst he himself has practically been exiled to the couch.

Carlos isn’t blind; he sees the intermittent winces, hears the occasional pained mutter, and he wants nothing more than to go over and help, to kiss away the lines of TK’s face. But they’re still so new, and TK is still so skittish, so he doesn’t want to do anything that will push him away even more.

Still, he can’t help but worry, and a particularly sharp gasp has him half-rising from his seat. “TK?”

“I’m fine.”

It’s clearly a lie. TK’s paler than he was a second ago and he has a white-knuckled grip around the knife in his hand, which only starts to relax when he realises that Carlos is staring.

“You should be resting,” Carlos says, making his way over. “I can finish that.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“TK, it’s okay, please just sit down.” He reaches out to grab TK’s good shoulder, intending to force him to the couch if necessary, but TK jerks away the moment he makes contact. His hand - thankfully not the one holding the knife - flails in a wide arc, knocking the half-made sandwich to the floor.

Carlos is already bending to clear it up when TK makes a noise like a wounded animal and drops to the floor. In any other circumstance, Carlos might be tempted to leave him to it, but TK’s hands are visibly trembling and his breath is coming in sharp pants as he mutters quiet curses to himself. He takes TK’s hands in his own, holding on tighter when he tries to pull away.

“TK!” he calls, keeping his voice as steady as possible. “TK, you need to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself. Come on, just follow my breathing, that’s it.”

It takes a long time, but eventually TK’s body loses some of its tension and he slumps back against the cabinets, closing his eyes. Carlos is surprised to see a tear slipping down his cheek, but TK wipes it away as quickly as it appears. His breathing is still carefully measured and he raises a hand to his chest, gently rubbing just over his wound.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks, fear spiking. “It is your stitches, did they burst again? Do you need anything? Can I -”

“I’m fine,” TK interrupts, and Carlos would be more inclined to believe him if his expression wasn’t still tight with pain. “I just get a bit out of breath sometimes. Punctured lung, remember?”

Carlos grimaces. He does remember, all too well. “Which is exactly why you should be resting, especially after the solar storm.”

“I know,” TK sighs. “I hate being so useless all the time.”

“You’re not useless.”

TK cracks his eyes open, levelling Carlos with an unimpressed stare. “I couldn’t even make a fucking sandwich, Carlos. I’m useless.”

“You’re healing,” Carlos corrects. He leans over and places his hand over the one TK has on his chest, gripping it gently. “You know as well as I do that these things take time. You just have to remember that you have plenty of people who want to help you, including me, if you’ll let us.”

It takes a long moment, but eventually TK allows Carlos to help him stand up, rolling his eyes when he insists on helping him to the couch. “You’re so annoying,” he complains, though there’s no heat behind the words.

“Better get used to it,” Carlos replies, easing TK down and dropping a kiss on his nose. “I’m not going anywhere.”

ii.

When Carlos gets into bed and wraps his arms around TK like he always does, the last thing he expects to hear is a pained yelp from the other side of the bed. He immediately sits up, any tiredness he may have had completely gone, and flicks on the lamp, eyes widening at the sight that greets him.

TK is still fully dressed, but Carlos can still spy the mottled bruising creeping under his shirt. He gently pushes the hem up, gasping at the discolouration covering TK’s entire right side, and looks up at his boyfriend in horror.

“Don’t be mad,” TK says quickly, eyes pleading as they meet Carlos’s.

“I’m not - Why would I be mad?” Carlos asks, shaking his head. He waves his hands over TK’s side, not wanting to touch it and risk causing him any more hurt. “What the hell happened?”

“Floor collapsed under me,” TK explains, shrugging with his left shoulder. “And, before you say anything, no, I don’t need to go to the hospital. Tommy checked me out, it’s just a few bruises, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t just a few bruises, TK!” Carlos pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Did you at least ice it?”

TK shrugs again. “At the station,” he says. “When I got back here, I was too tired, and it hurt too much to take my clothes off, so I just got into bed.”

“Por Dios,” Carlos mutters to himself. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then pulls himself out of bed, frowning down at his accident-prone boyfriend. “Stay there.”

TK, naturally, doesn’t listen, attempting to push himself upright. “Where are you going?”

“Lie down. You’ll see.”

Carlos is only gone for two minutes; still, by the time he walks back in, ice packs and ointment in hand, TK is sitting up against the headboard, eyes closed in obvious pain. He rolls his eyes, but can’t suppress the exasperated smile that crosses his face as he rounds to TK’s side of the bed. He deposits the items on the bedside table then shakes TK’s good shoulder.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Come on. Let’s get you sorted.”

TK peels his eyes open, pursing his lips when he catches sight of the ice packs. “Carlos, I’m -”

“If you say you’re fine, so help me, TK.”

TK glares, but doesn’t finish his sentence, which is something at least. Carlos helps him shift until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, then eases him upright, wincing at the pained grunt TK lets out. When he doesn’t seem about to fall over, Carlos lets go, his hands moving to the hem of TK’s shirt, carefully sliding it off his body. He does the same with his sweats, only then allowing TK to collapse back down on the bed.

“Thank you,” TK says quietly.

“Of course.” Carlos leans over and grabs a pillow, positioning it to support TK as he encourages him to lie down again. He goes without complaint this time, smiling tiredly up at Carlos.

“Can we go back to sleep now?”

“No,” Carlos says, grinning at TK’s pout. He picks up the ice pack and ointment, moving to the other side of the bed and sliding in next to TK, sitting cross-legged at his back. He squeezes some of the ointment onto the worst of the bruises, then takes a deep breath before reaching to rub it in.

Carlos keeps his touch light, but TK still tenses as soon as he makes contact, eyes squeezing shut, breathing turning heavy. “Sorry.”

TK shakes his head. “It’s okay. You can keep going.”

Carlos goes as quickly as he can, grimacing every time he hits a particularly sore spot, sending another wave of pain through TK’s body. By the time he’s finished, TK’s teeth look liable to crack from the force with which he’s gritting them, but he hasn’t uttered a word of complaint.

“Almost there,” Carlos murmurs, cracking the ice packs. He lays them down across the bruising, and TK immediately relaxes, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” TK says, sleep obviously pulling at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Carlos kisses him, then slides down in the bed and flicks off the light. “Get some rest.”

iii.

TK is asleep on the couch and Carlos is trying to catch up on the cleaning he’s neglected over the last couple of days when there’s a sudden cry from across the room. He looks up in time to see TK jerk upright, just barely managing to keep himself from falling to the floor.

“TK!” He rushes to his boyfriend’s side, hands hovering uncertainly as TK groans, head falling into his hands. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” TK grits out, though the tightness in his voice and expression says otherwise.

“I don’t think -”

“Carlos, please.” TK squints up at him, eyes watering and pleading with him. “Just, give me a minute.”

Carlos hesitates, but one more desperate look from TK has him nodding, straightening up and backing away. He goes back to his cleaning, but keeps one eye on his boyfriend the whole time, wishing there was something he could do to help. It’s been like this ever since he brought TK home after the kidnapping, the crippling headaches apparently not enough; he’s also been having nightmares that ruin what little sleep he manages to get.

(carlos has nightmares, too, but tk doesn’t need to know about those)

The last thing Carlos wants to do is crowd TK - he knows from past experience that he doesn’t appreciate the hovering - but every time he catches sight of the stitches, another bolt of fear flashes through him and the desire to keep TK close strengthens. He’d do anything if it meant his boyfriend didn’t have to go through any more pain.

When TK has begun to lie back against the pillows, still breathing carefully through his nose, Carlos fills a glass with water and takes it over. He places the glass on the coffee table and settles himself by TK’s legs, rubbing his side gently.

“Bad dream?” he asks quietly. At TK’s reluctant nod, he winces in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” TK mumbles. His eyes flutter closed, but Carlos knows by the way his face is scrunched up that he probably won’t be getting any more sleep. He wants to ask if TK wants to talk about the dream, but the answer will be no. It always is, TK usually just saying that Carlos already knows what happened and there’s no point talking about it. Which is obviously untrue, but Carlos doesn’t want to force the issue, not while TK’s still physically healing.

“How’s the head?” he tries instead. “Does it hurt badly?”

TK hums. “It’s not great,” he admits, which is TK-speak for I’m in agony. “I don’t think moving so quickly did it any favours.”

“I can get you some Tylenol, if you want?”

TK hesitates, but eventually nods, which is testament to how shitty he must be feeling. Carlos immediately goes to grab the medicine, shaking a couple of pills into his hand before heading back into the front room.

“Here.” He squats down in front of TK and helps him into a seated position, ignoring his boyfriend’s protests.

“You’re starting to act like my dad,” TK jokes, swallowing down the pills.

Carlos laughs. “We’ve been swapping tips. Why else do you think he gave me his number?”

TK groans. “Great. My dad and my boyfriend ganging up on me - just what I need.” He glares as best as he’s able, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

“We love you really.”

TK sniffs and allows Carlos to help him to lie down, his eyes closing as soon as he’s settled. Carlos stands to get back to his chores, but he doesn’t miss TK’s mumbled “Love you too,” that follows him as he goes.

iv.

He only leaves the kitchen for two minutes to grab something from upstairs, but two minutes is all it takes for him to hear a sharp yell of pain, followed by a loud clatter and muffled cursing. Carlos rushes down the stairs, instantly zeroing in on his boyfriend, who appears to be frozen, staring in shock at his hands.

Carlos frowns. Nothing appears to be amiss; the tray of cookies is maybe slightly to the left of where he left it, but other than that, everything seems fine.

Except for TK.

“Babe?” he calls. “Something wrong?”

TK startles, an almost guilty look on his face as he turns to Carlos. His hands drop, hiding behind his back in a way that has Carlos’s eyes narrowing in suspicion. He crosses the room quickly, gently pulling at TK’s wrists until he succeeds in revealing his hands, which have clear burns on them.

“Shit!” He practically drags TK to the sink, forcing his hands under the cold tap. “You should have done this straight away,” he scolds. “You of all people ought to know that, Mr Firefighter-Turned-Paramedic.”

“I know,” TK grumbles. He gives Carlos a sideways look, raising his eyebrows. “You can let go of me, you know.”

Carlos does, flushing slightly, then leans back against the counter, shaking his head at his boyfriend. “How did that even happen?”

The guilty look comes back on TK’s face and he studiously avoids Carlos’s gaze. “You’ll laugh at me.”

“I won’t,” Carlos says, though he’s already struggling to fulfil that promise. Now he knows that TK isn’t too injured, he can start to relax a little, and TK’s expression is doing little to quell his amusement at the situation.

TK sighs heavily, hanging his head. “I was just going to move the tray to make room for the second batch,” he explains quietly - almost too quiet for Carlos to hear. “Except I may have, ah, forgotten that it would still be hot. So.”

Carlos manages to keep a straight face for all of two seconds before he bursts out laughing, which is only fuelled by the indignant look on TK’s face.

“You promised!” he accuses, glaring.

“Sorry, love,” Carlos says, grinning. “At least you didn’t burn the food this time.”

The answering face full of water he receives is worth it.

Carlos should have known the call had gone too well to be true.

They’re just wrapping everything up when there’s a sudden commotion over by the ambulance, and he looks over to see Nancy shielding a patient while TK and Tommy attempt to hold another man back. He catches Mitchell’s attention and they sprint over, but they don’t get there before the guy breaks free, lashing out with his fist.

TK’s head snaps back and he staggers, blood instantly flowing from his nose. Carlos wants to go to him, but he knows he has to focus on his job; besides which, he’d probably just get in the way. He and Mitchell manage to subdue the guy before he can do any more harm, and Carlos hands him off to his partner, subtly inclining his head towards TK. She nods and leads the guy to their cruiser.

Carlos turns to Tommy, who is crouching down next to where TK’s sitting on the sidewalk. “What was that?” he asks, trying to divert his worry for now - not that he succeeds.

She scowls in the direction Mitchell took the attacker. “He blamed our patient for the accident,” she says. “Decided he would try and give him a couple more bruises, not that he needs them.”

Carlos looks over at the patient being tended to by Nancy. All things considered, he doesn’t look too bad, but he’s already started to bruise, and he’s sporting more than a few cuts. Carlos sighs, shaking his head.

“And TK?”

TK opens his mouth to respond, but Tommy answers before he can. “Your boy’s got himself a broken nose, by the looks of it. I don’t think it’s too bad, but I’m taking him to the hospital as a precaution anyway, plus it might need surgery. But he’ll be fine.”

He can’t help the relieved sigh that escapes him at the news. “Good. Thanks, Tommy. My shift is almost done; I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can.”

“You guys realise I’m right here, don’t you?” TK complains, his voice coming out thick and nasally. “I might have a broken nose, but my ears work just fine.”

Carlos chuckles, sharing a fond smile with Tommy. “Glad to hear it, babe,” he comments drily. He leans down to kiss the top of TK’s head. “I’ll see you soon, keep me updated.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He doesn’t know how it happens.

Just that, one second he’s facing down a suspect; the next, he’s flat on his back, a searing pain tearing through his side. Carlos sucks in a ragged breath, a harsh cough ripping from his throat. Mitchell is above him, her eyes wide and panicked as she speaks into her radio, but Carlos can’t hear what she’s saying, which would probably be more concerning if he could put thoughts together right now.

His eyes feel heavy and they start to close when the pain suddenly intensifies and they fly open again, Carlos gasping for air.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep on me, Reyes,” Mitchell growls, her voice sounding very far away. “Paramedics are here, they’re going to fix you up, you’re - Oh, shit.”

Carlos doesn’t need to wonder for long what caused her to break off; TK’s face soon replaces Mitchell’s, attempting to smile even as his eyes fill with tears. There’s a hand running through his hair, and Carlos leans into the touch, letting it soothe him. He starts to drift again, but he tries to force himself to stay awake.

“Hey, babe,” TK says wetly. “We’ve got you now, you’ve just gotta keep those pretty eyes open for me, can you do that?”

“Think...so…” Carlos manages, another round of coughing overwhelming him. TK holds him through it, his hand on the back of his head to prevent it from hitting the tarmac.

“That’s good.” TK turns to the side, then he’s back, securing an oxygen mask over Carlos’s face. He’s obviously trying to put on a brave face, but, even as out of it as he is, Carlos doesn’t miss the way his hands are shaking. He clumsily reaches up, almost slapping TK’s face in his drowsiness, but it’s worth it to see TK smile as he grips onto his hand. “You’re doing so good, baby, you’re going to be just fine.”

Carlos almost believes it, too.

Almost, because at that moment, the pain returns tenfold and he involuntarily arches off the ground, the air suddenly feeling very thin. Distantly, he can hear yelling, but the darkness is creeping in on him and, this time, he can’t do anything to fight it.

The next time Carlos wakes, it’s to harsh lights that threaten a headache and the feeling of another hand in his own. He groans, trying to shift away from the glare of the fluorescents, which is a decision he immediately regrets as pain flares in his side.

There’s movement next to the bed, and then gentle hands are on his face, stroking softly as Carlos breathes through the hurt.

“That’s it,” a quiet voice - TK’s, he realises - says. “You’re okay, I’m here, it’s okay.”

Carlos manages to squint his eyes open again and TK comes into view. He smiles tremulously. “Hi baby.”

“Hey,” Carlos rasps. “What happened?”

TK bites his lip, pulling back slightly. It’s then that Carlos notices his boyfriend is still in his uniform, and he frowns. “TK?”

“You were shot,” TK explains after a long moment, gingerly sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “I don’t know if you remember, but we were the responding crew and we - we almost lost you, Carlos.” He blinks, Carlos’s heart aching as tears slip down TK’s cheeks. He takes a shaky breath, then smiles down at him, a weak and forced thing. “But, you’re okay. We got you back, and according to the doctors, the surgery went well. You’ll be back on your feet in no time, I promise.”

Carlos swallows, a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

TK shakes his head. “You didn’t ask to get shot, Carlos.”

“I’m sorry you were the ones to respond. That can’t have been easy for you.”

“It wasn’t. But…” TK sighs. “I think I prefer it than having to find out later. At least, this way, I got to be by your side the whole time, and I got to see you would be okay with my own eyes.” He grabs Carlos’s hand and lifts it to his lips, closing his eyes. A few more tears escape, and Carlos longs to wipe them away. “Just, please try and refrain from getting hurt again,” TK continues, eyes opening. “I’m not sure if I can take it.”

Carlos sends him an unimpressed look. “Bold words coming from you.”

TK stares at him, affronted, but it only lasts for a brief moment before he’s laughing. It’s a wet sound, filled with emotion, but Carlos thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. He has no doubt there’ll be plenty more injuries in their future, on both of their parts, but as long as they have each other, Carlos knows that they’ll get through it.

83 notes · View notes

purple-fireflies · 3 years

Text

try to slip past his defense (without granting innocence)

A/N: Soy Luna Grey’s Anatomy au -- some plot devices will be the same, others may differ. (This is just an excerpt, I'll post the full chapter on ao3 & tumblr when I'm done with it!)

Other notes:

The title is from The Fray’s “How To Save A Life” which is basically the show’s anthem song (that and chasing cars)

Sometimes, certain dialogue may be verbatim from the show (this is only for medical-related plot devices, ie meeting patients, assigning lab reports, establishing exposition, etc) so I’m stating here right now that that specific dialogue belongs to Grey’s Anatomy, and the characters belong to Soy Luna, but everything else belongs to me

Juliana never had the last name given in the show, so for story’s sake, it’s Bahiense.

She’s referred to as “The Nazi” but that’s not meant to offend anyone at all, it was the nickname given in the show, so I’m transferring it here.

In Soy Luna, Ámbar is one year older than Luna, but here she’s the same age as her

In Grey’s Anatomy, there are only 5 people in each group of interns, but for plot’s sake, there are 7 each

In the show, Benicio’s name was never mentioned, so for writing purposes, his last name is going to be Calisto

Luna sits up quickly—bad idea.

She winces at the light coming in through the window and groans at her headache.

And someone stirs next to her.

Exactly how much did she drink?

Enough so she doesn’t remember the name of the smirky boy staring at her, pulling on his boxers.

She is never drinking again.

And he needs to leave.

“You are?” He asks, grinning the grin that probably got Luna into this mess.

“Humiliated on so many levels,” She mutters, “And I’m late, as well. So if you could just, I dunno, leave, that would be perfect,”

“Or we could pick up where we left off?” He asks, with a grin that tells Luna he isn’t used to being rejected.

“No, seriously. I’m late. Which I shouldn’t be on my first day of work, so?”

Take the hint.

“Wait, so you live here?”

Jesus Christ, she’s going to be late.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it was my aunt’s house, but I’m selling it so technically, not for long.” She rushes out.

“I’m sorry,” He replies, actual emotion in his eyes.

“My aunt is still ali—you know, we don’t have to do the thing,”

“We can do whatever you want,”

Really?

“No, the thing. Where you pretend you care or ask me nice questions or whatever. Listen. I’m going to go upstairs and shower, and when I get back, you’re not going to be here, uh…”

What was his name?

He laughs softly, “Matteo.”

“Luna,” She replies, shaking his hand.

“Bye, Luna,” He says winking at her.

She smiles in response and jerks her head towards the door.

“Bye, Matteo,”

And that’s the last she has to see of him.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

“Each of you comes here hopeful. Wanting in on the game. A month ago you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you,” The chief, Tamara Rios, says as Luna stumbles into the room, causing everyone to stare at her.

Great job, Valente.

Luna walks around the room. She sees Ámbar, avoiding her gaze as if it was poisonous. She sees another girl, a brunette, looking around the room with wide eyes. She sees Simón, looking back at her, and resists waving at him as a kindergartner would. She walks around the OR a little more and sees two girls so close they might as well be stuck together, one a blonde and the other a redhead. She bumps into another boy, who just huffs softly and brushes her off.

Rude.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

The resident takes 3 more interns, leaving Luna with the brunette she saw at the orientation.

“Only 6 women out of 20,” She says, sighing, as if mad at the statistic itself.

“And I think one of them’s a model. As if that would’ve helped with the whole respect thing,” The redhead interjects.

Luna and Ámbar share a look.

Luna turns to the brunette.

“You’re Nina, right?” She says, smiling.

Nina nods, “Which resident did you get assigned to? I got Bahiense.”

“The Nazi? Me too,” Luna replies.

The guy who bumped into her says, “You got the Nazi? So did I. At least we’ll be tortured together,” He says, trying to lean into Luna’s space.

Luna and Nina exchange a quick look saying, God, can you believe him?

A doctor comes up and calls out “Smith, Valente, Ponce, Simonetti, Medina, Sánchez, Álvarez,”

Ámbar walks up to the guy and asks, “Bahiense?”

He points down the hall.

The seven look down to see who he’s pointing at. It’s a woman slightly shorter than them, using a cane to stand up, ordering some other resident around.

The guy who bumped into her says, “I thought the Nazi would be a guy,”

Sexist much?

“I thought the Nazi would be...you know, the Nazi,” Luna mutters.

“Guys seriously? Maybe it’s just professional jealousy. You know, maybe she’s just brilliant and they’re so jealous so they call her the Nazi. Maybe she’s nice.” The redhead says, and Luna sees her nametag saying Jimena Medina.

The blonde next to her, Yamila Sánchez, Luna supposes, nods.

Which means the only one left that she doesn’t know would be...Luna cranes her neck to see his nametag.

Ramiro Ponce. Who is currently staring wistfully at Yamila.

Please.

“Let me guess, you still have hope left in your heart,” Ámbar says to Jimena, rolling her eyes as if it’s what she was born to do.

Jimena shoots Ámbar a dirty look (wow, Luna wishes her luck with that can of worms) and proceeds to try to shake Dr. Bahiense’s hand when she walks over.

Dr. Bahiense looks at her hand as if it’s infectious.

Jimena, undeterred, continues to say, “Right, well. I’m Jimena Medina, but you can call me Jim if it’s easier,”

Yamila, who seemed to jump out of thin air, says, “And you can call me Yam,”

Bahiense looks so unimpressed Luna thinks that if contempt alone was enough to murder someone, Bahiense would be a serial killer.

Luna shares a quick look with Simón, who gives her a reassuring nod.

Bahiense looks them all up and down, evidently annoyed with being stuck with their group (ouch).

"I have five rules. Memorize them. Rule number one, don't bother sucking up, I already hate you, that's not gonna change,” She starts, then moves to a bench, filled with different objects, “Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule number two. Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours,”

Everyone rushes to grab their pagers, studying them before Bahiense starts talking again.

“You’re interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain, you run labs, write orders, work every second night till you drop, and don't complain!”

Bahiense opens what Luna supposes is an on-call room, “On-call rooms. Attendings hog them, sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three, if I'm sleeping, don't wake me, unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there, not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woken me for no good reason, we clear?”

Luna rushes to nod, writing furiously on her notepad, and then goes, oh.

She raises her hand.

Dr. Bahiense looks extremely pissed at Luna for having the audacity to have a question.

“Yes?”

“You said five rules. Those were only four.” Luna says, trying not to wilt against Dr. Bahiense’s gaze.

“Rule number five. When I move, you move,” She says after her pager beeps.

That’s some TV show shit right there.

They break into a run and watch as Dr. Bahiense runs down a couple of doctors.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

The helicopter—yes, a helicopter—lands, and a doctor pulls out a teenager on a stretcher.

This is way too much for Luna on her first day.

“What do we got?” Bahiense asks, and Luna hears Nina correct the grammar under her breath.

As the paramedic puts the girl on the stretcher (while she’s seizing) he says, “Katie Bryce, fifteen-year-old female, new-onset seizures, intermittent for the past week, ID lost en route, started grand mal seizing as we descended,”

Bahiense stops, leaning on her cane for a second, and then it’s all business.

“All right. Yam, put her on the side, 10 milligrams diazepam,” Bahiense groans when Yam does it incorrectly, “No, no, the white lead is on the right, righty whitey, smoke over fire, a large-bore I.V. don't let the blood haemolyse, let's go!”

Yam injects the diazepam and Katie stops seizing.

Luna releases the breath that she wasn’t aware she was holding.

Another doctor, in dark blue scrubs, another doctor comes up in stark contrast to what she and the other interns are wearing. Luna catches his name very quickly. Gastón Perida.

Nina sucks in a breath as he walks past them, Luna realizes with a start.

“So I heard we got a wet fish on dry land?” Dr. Perida says, and Luna catches how Nina stares at him with intent.

Dr. Bahiense, her sudden brashness gone, replaced with respect as she says, “Absolutely Dr. Perida,”

Dr. Perida nods, his eyes brushing over the intern group, stopping at Nina, and he then continues.

“All right, Dr. Bahiense, I’m gonna shotgun her,”

“That means every test in the book, CT, CBC, chem. seven, a tox screen, Nina and Ámbar, you're on labs, Ramiro and Yam, patient workups, Luna, get Katie for a CT, she's your responsibility now,”

Wonderful. Her first day and she gets the really hard patient.

“What about me and Simón?” Jim asks.

Bahiense looks so tired when she stares at Jim, “Right, you two, uh. You get to do rectal exams. Okay?”

Jim and Simón have faces that say no, not okay.

Luna makes a face gloating at Simón and he just glares at her in return.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Ámbar peeks into the OR where Dr. Bahiense is. Bahiense comes out and looks at her expectantly.

“Um, Katie Bryce's labs came out clear, there's nothing in the results that explain her seizures,” She says, hoping to catch Dr. Bahiense to ask her what she really wants to ask her.

“And…?”

“ I heard every year the attending on-call picks the best intern and, and lets them perform a procedure, during the first shift?” Ámbar asks, glaring back at Dr. Bahiense when she tries to stare her down.

Ámbar Smith does not get stared down.

“Go away. Now.” Dr. Bahiense says, and Ámbar groans internally.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Yam sighs at yet another ill-tried joke Ramiro attempts.

Flirty in med school and flirty now.

Why should she even bother?

“We have one more patient to work up,” She mumbles and he nods, walking slower to keep up with her pace.

She places her stethoscope and hears for a heartbeat. “Everything seems to be in order,”

“So he’ll be fine?” The woman next to him—presumably his wife—asks.

“If you don’t count that my bacon days are over, sure,” The patient replies.

Yam shares a smirk with Ramiro.

“You'll have surgery tomorrow with Dr. Perida, I hear he's good, and after that, you can have all of the bacon-flavored soy product you can eat,” Ramiro interjects, speaking easily with the patients.

“Please, kill me now,” the patient jokes.

“Wish I could, but I took the Hippocratic Oath for a reason,” Yam replies absently, going over and signing his charts.

She blushes at the weird looks she gets and rolls her eyes at Ramiro’s never-ending smirk.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Katie. Won’t. Stop. Talking. Which isn’t helping Luna find her way through these halls.

Did she just miss the last turn?

“You’re lost,” the kid says, grumbling.

What do you think I’m trying to fix right now? Luna thinks to herself and just about stops herself from saying.

“I’m not lost.” Luna insists, then remembers she’s a doctor, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m missing my pageant. How do you think I feel?”

“Right. You’re missing your pageant.”

This poor girl is in the hospital with seizures and the only thing that she can think about is her pageant.

Luna feels sorry for her.

“The Spokane Teen Miss? I was in the top ten after the first two rounds. This is my year. I could've won,”

Luna absently hums and realizes that they’re going the wrong way. Again.

She turns around and pushes Katie back the same way.

“You are so lost. What are you, new?”

Luna chokes back a laugh. Yeah, something like that.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Yam watches Ramiro try to give their patient a central line. It’s not working.

And it’s visibly hurting the patient.

She groans and pushes past him, about to put the line in when Dr. Perida waltzes into their room and raises his eyebrows.

“Out.” He says, his nice demeanor replaced with annoyance.

Do all of the residents and attendings just hate interns on principle?

Yam glares at Ramiro and pulls him out, watching from the window as Perida puts the line in perfectly.

“Bet you used to mess up a lot when you started out,” Ramiro tries to joke with Perida.

Yam just winces and nods at Dr. Perida as she leaves.

Ramiro at least has the decency to look sheepish.

This is going to be a long shift.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna sits, taking Katie’s patient history and generally listening to her incessant babbling.

“I twisted my ankle. I do rhythmic gymnastics, which is like, really cool. Nobody else does it. And I tripped over my ribbon, and I didn't get stuck with someone this clueless. And that was like, a nurse,” Katie says.

Luna bites back a retort.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Simón groans at the plate of food in front of him. The number of rectal exams he and Jim had to do was enough to take the appetite away from anyone.

“This shift is 80 hours long, you have to eat, Simón,” Ámbar mutters, her gaze hardening after leaving Simón’s eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Eat.” Ámbar insists, pushing Simón’s plate towards him.

“You try eating after performing 17 rectal exams. The Nazi hates me. I want to puke.” Simón says, his face contorting.

“Just don’t puke near me,” Ámbar mutters.

“The Nazi’s just a resident. Attendings hate me,” Ramiro replies.

“Did you know Luna is inbred?” Nina asks, and all heads whip to her immediately.

Partly because no one expected the shy ingenue to say anything.

And partly because Luna being inbred is very surprising.

Simón hurries to say “It’s not uncommon to be the kid of a doctor,”

“I mean royally inbred. Her mother is Lili Benson.”

“Shut up. The Lili Benson?” Jim asks.

Nina nods.

“Who’s Lili Benson?” Ramiro asks.

“The Benson method? Where’d you go to med school, Antarctica?” Yam says incredulously.

No one notices how Simón and Ámbar tense up as Yam continues talking. “She was one of the biggest women surgeons. She practically invented th—”

“She won the Harper Avery. Twice.” Jim says, rolling her eyes at Ramiro.

“So I didn’t know one thing.”

“I would kill to have Lili Benson as my mother. Scratch that, I’d kill to be Lili Benson.” Nina says, her eyes alight.

“Katie Bryce is a pain in the ass. I swear if it wouldn’t get me fired, I’d strangle her with my bare hands.” Luna says, walking over to their table, sitting next to Nina.

She seems to miss the wistful glance Simón throws her way.

She does seem to notice the way everyone’s staring at her.

“What?”

Nina opens her mouth to say something but stops immediately when Dr. Perida walks over.

“Good afternoon interns. It's posted, but I thought I'd share the good news personally. As you know, the honor of performing the first surgery is reserved for the intern that shows the most promise. As I'm running the OR today, I get to make that choice,” Dr. Perida says, and Luna feels a rush of hope.

Or. Felt. Seeing as Dr. Perida is clapping Ramiro on his back (it was kind of worth it to see him choke a little on his salad) and saying, “Ramiro Ponce. You’ll be scrubbing in on an appendectomy this afternoon. Congrats.”

Luna deflates.

She wanted that surgery.

She wanted it really badly.

“Me?” Ramiro asks, not quite believing it. Or maybe he’s just wilting under Yam’s intense glare.

“Enjoy.” Dr. Perida says, nodding to everyone.

Luna doesn’t fail to notice that he’s staring at Nina while he says that.

Nina doesn’t fail to notice either, if the blush on her cheeks has anything to say about it.

Ramiro looks like he’s still in shock.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

“I’ve seen his file. Ramiro Ponce barely even made the cut to get into the program. He’s not your guy.” Juliana says to Gastón, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, he’s my guy alright,” Gastón responds, absently checking the labs.

Juliana sighs, “Every year you pick your guy, and every year your guy suffers most.”

Gastón smiles. Everyone who knows him knows his easy nature, his inclination to being on the side of less serious.

Unless of course, it has to do with work.

“Terrorize one, and the rest fall in line, Bahiense.”

“I get it. I respect it. But Ramiro? Ponce is a puppy. A cute little puppy that is waiting to be killed. He can’t take the pressure. Think about it, Perida.” Juliana says, walking away.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna watches as Katie’s parents stumble into Katie’s room.

The look of pure worry and fear on their faces makes Luna warm to them immediately.

A couple of hours ago, their kid was supposed to go on stage and wear a sash and be a kid.

Now they’re scared that their kid could be dying.

“Katie?” The mom asks, trying to hold her hand.

Luna falters, not wanting to break their little window.

“They gave her a sedative for the CT scan, so she’s just a tad groggy,” Luna says, standing up.

“Will she be okay?”

“Does she need surgery?” The parents ask at the same time.

Their urging faces make Luna wish she had an answer.

“Uh. You know, I’m not her doctor, I am a doctor, just not hers. Anyway, I’m not Katie’s doctor. I’ll go find him.” Luna rambles.

Luna finds Bahiense, “Katie’s parents have questions. Should I get Dr. Perida to answer them?”

“What? No. Perida’s off the case. The case is the new neuro attending’s case, Dr. Balsano. He’s over there.” Bahiense says, pointing to…

Oh god.

Please.

Not today.

This is not happening.

Matteo turns and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes clicking in recognition.

This is not happening.

Luna is not dealing with this.

She turns away from his gaze and walks away. What is she going to do?

She walks towards the stairwell and gets grabbed in.

She stumbles and Matteo catches her, running a hand through his hair, which Luna grudgingly admits looks not bad.

No. Luna. Stop it. Luna. No.

“Dr. Balsano. Did you need anything?” Luna asks, trying to not look at flustered as she is.

Matteo looks positively ecstatic at this turn of events. “Dr. Balsano? This morning it was Matteo. Now it’s Dr. Balsano.”

Luna dearly wants to slap that smirk off of his face.

“Dr. Balsano, we should pretend this never happened,”

“What never happened? You sleeping with me last night or kicking me out this morning because I don’t know about you, but both are memories I’d dearly love to keep.”

This guy really can’t take a hint.

“No. No. No. This is not happening. There are no memories of anything. I’m not the girl in the bar and you’re not the guy in the bar. I am your intern, Dr. Balsano.”

“I see how it is. You took advantage of me last night and now you want to forget about it.” He says, smirking incessantly.

“I most certainly did not,”

“I was drunk and vulnerable. Not to mention, insanely good-looking,”

“You’re not that good-looking,” Luna says, while her traitorous brain says Liar over and over.

“Sure I’m not. But last night, I was wearing my red shirt and I was extremely good-looking and you took advantage,”

He’s not entirely wrong about the red shirt.

“I didn—”

“Want to take advantage again? Say, Friday night?”

He’s smiling again, only this time it’s a smile, not a smirk.

Maybe Luna wouldn’t have said no if he wasn’t an attending.

“No. You’re an attending. I’m your intern. And I would seriously appreciate it if you stopped looking at me like that,” Luna says, glaring at him. It doesn’t seem to deter him.

“Like what?” He asks innocently as if he has no idea what he’s doing right now.

“Like you’ve slept with me,”

Matteo smirks.

“Dr. Balsano. Have you ever considered the fact that this is inappropriate?” Luna breathes.

He doesn’t say anything.

Luna sighs and leaves, the door slamming behind her.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

“Open. Identify. Irrigate. Close.” Jim instructs, and Yam sighs.

“Jim, I think he’d know,”

“He looks like he’s going to puke,” Jim shoots back.

Yam looks at Ramiro and says, “We have to go to the gallery now. Don’t screw it up.”

They walk up and take a seat behind Luna and Nina.

The intern above them says, “He’s going to faint. He’s a fainter.”

Yam fights back a if you only knew.

“Nah, I’m guessing code brown. Right in his pants,” another intern snickers.

Yam and Jim share a look.

Sure, she’s not a huge fan of Ramiro but he helped her a lot in med school. He helped Jim a lot in med school.

This is just savage.

“He’s going to sweat himself unsterile,”

“10 bucks he’s messing up the McBird,” someone says.

Oh god, they’re betting on Ramiro.

“20 says he cries,” Ámbar says, and sends an apologetic look at Luna.

“I’ll put 20 on him melting down completely,”

“50 says he pulls the whole thing off.” Yam hears herself say.

Luna grins at her, “That’s one of us down there. The first one of us. Where the hell is your loyalty?”

Yam breathes out.

The entire gallery, while it was buzzing before, is now silent.

“75 he can’t even ID the appendix,” Ámbar says again.

This time it’s Simón shooting her the look.

“I’ll take that action,” someone says.

Eric, Yam realizes.

The idiot from their bio class.

Nina elbows Luna when Dr. Perida says, “Okay, Ponce, let’s see what you can do,”

Jim breathes in quickly and Yam also holds her breath.

Do it right do it right please do it right.

“Here it comes,” Simón says.

“Scalpel,” Ramiro says and the nurse hands it to him, echoing the word.

Ramiro takes it and everyone cheers.

Perida motions for them to shut up as Nina says, “God, he’s quite a bit of trouble,”

Ramiro gets ready to cut as Perida instructs, “More pressure.”

Ramiro manages to do it without any mishaps and then proceeds to say, “Pickups.”

The scrub nurse echoes the command and hands him the instrument.

They go on for a little bit, and Yam thinks he might actually pull it off.

Until it goes downhill after Ramiro takes out the appendix.

Perida mutters an angry remark as all the interns in the gallery call him Double O’7.

Jim shares a worried look with Yam and asks Luna, “What does 007 mean?”

Luna sends them an apologetic look.

“License to Kill.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

The cool air rushes into the basement that Bahiense’s interns have settled into.

The majority of them pile onto the gurney as Nina goes to the vending machine looking for some chocolate.

Luna winces at the whine that Ramiro makes as he walks into their “hideout”.

“They’re calling me 007 aren’t they?”

Luna groans and shoves Simón’s head off of Ámbar’s lap so she can fall asleep in it.

She’s too tired to deal with any human interaction that requires her to, you know, have any sort of emotional security.

“No one’s calling you 007,” Jim and Yam lie (but they do it in unison so like, props).

Ramiro shoots Yam an annoyed look, “I was on an elevator and Eric whispered 007,”

Ámbar pushes Luna’s head off of her lap and glares at Ramiro, “How many times do we have to go through with this? 5, 10, 15? Please tell me soon or I’m going to rim your head off.”

Ramiro sits on the gurney and groans “Eric whispered 007 in the elevator and everyone laughed,”

Luna picks her head up from where she’s trying (unsuccessfully) to fall asleep and actually feels sorry for the guy for a second but the aching limbs and pounding migraine make it kind of hard to console the poor guy.

“They weren’t laughing at you,” Jim says.

“You sure?”

“Would we lie to you?” Jim asks.

“Yes,” Ramiro, Ámbar, Simon and Luna say.

“007 is a state of mind,” Nina yells from the vending machine and throws a packet of chips at Luna as she walks back.

“Says the girl who finished first at freaking Stanford,” Simón yells at her.

Nina just rolls her eyes in response.

Just as Luna finally feels the call of sleep, her pager beeps.

She just wanted 5 minutes.

“It’s 911. Damn. I gotta go,” and Luna takes off at a sprint.

“I should’ve gone into geriatrics. No one cares if you kill an old person.” Ramiro continues after Luna leaves.

“Yes. Yes, they do care if you kill an old person. Plus. Surgery is hot. Geriatrics is… Well, it’s for freaks who live in the basement with their mom,” Simón replies.

“I have got to move out of my mom’s,” Ramiro mutters.

Nina and Ámbar share a grin.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna’s out of breath by the time she gets to Katie’s room.

She really has to go to the gym more.

“Finally,” Katie mutters.

Luna looks around, seeing if anything’s wrong.

Oh god, please tell me she has a good reason for this. She has a good reason. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Are you alright?” The nurse paged me 911.”

“Ha, it took me forever to get her to even pick up the phone. I had to go full Hulk.”

“Wait. So there’s nothing wrong? Nothing medically wrong?”

“I’m bored.” Katie shrugs.

Luna likes to think she’s a nice person. A little absentminded at times, but a nice person nonetheless.

Katie, however, is really testing the whole “do no harm” thing.

“I am not your babysitter. I am not your cruise director. You can’t just page me for anything.”

“Don’t be so overdramatic. My pageant is supposed to be on cable, but it’s like this hospital lives in the ’90s. I can’t find anything. If someone who’s not me gets the crown, I should at least get to see it.”

Luna takes a deep breath. She’s a teenager. You were also stupid as a teenager.

“Okay. This is a hospital. There are sick people here. Go to sleep and stop wasting my time.”

“I can’t sleep, my head’s all full.”

“Those are called thoughts. Run with them.” Luna says in a fit of anger.

She’s been working for almost 24 hours and she just wanted 2 minutes of rest.

But maybe she shouldn’t have snapped at a patient.

But that’s a lesson for another day.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna and Nina are in the ER when they hear a loud voice.

“4B has post-op pneumonia. Let’s get her started on antibiotics, okay?” An intern says to a nurse.

Someone didn’t tell the newbie not to piss off the nurses.

“Are you sure it’s the right diagnosis?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know. I’m only an intern. But here’s an idea. You go and spend 4 years in med school and then talk to me. She’s got shortness of breath and fever. It’s post-op pneumonia. Start antibiotics.” He sneers.

Luna rolls her eyes.

The same guy walks over to her and Nina, “God, I hate nurses. I’m Benicio. I’m with Jeremy. You guys are with the Nazi, right?”

“You know it doesn’t have to be pneumonia, right? It could be splinting. Or she could have aPE.”

He sneers again (does it ever leave his face?), “As I said, I hate nurses.” and walks away.

“Well, he’s an absolute idiot,” Nina says, shooting daggers towards Benicios across the room.

Luna’s about to respond, but her pager beeps again.

“Dammit, Katie.”

This time she walks.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

#soy luna #soy luna fic #lutteo #soy luna grey's au #simbar #yamiro #gastina #hope you guys enjoy it!

18 notes · View notes